The retelling of a Greek tragedy.

First Act

-Who is there?- The woman stated, with a firm and mighty voice.
-It is I, Pericles, and I mean no harm.- The man replied, his head down and his arms raised above his neck.
The temple was dark, it always is, mortals do not dare to be held witnesses of what lies inside. The place was pristine, the marble cleaned, shiny, the gold and silver shapen by the hand of a God. Alas, it was in vain, as the shadows engulfed every single part of such an astonishing temple.
The man took a few steps forward, scanning the place with his feet. He was sweating, nervous. The woman stared at him, sword in hand; she would not let that happen again.
-My dear, I have received word of a beautiful woman taking refuge in this temple.- The man said, almost short of breath.
-That is true. That must be me.- The woman replied, watching the man so no move would go unnoticed. The man was wearing what once was a white robe, now covered in dirt, coal dust, and even blood.
The man had his eyes covered.
-I am, as I said, Pericles, and I extend my hand in peace so I can give you the warmth and comfort of a real home.- The man transformed his voice, of that of a humble servant to that of a loving, caring husband, or maybe, father.
The woman frowned in disgust, yet alas, stood up. Her skin, now a scaly armor after all these years, made her movements look artificial. She appeared to be not human anymore. She walked slowly towards him, and when she got at his arms reach, she held his face by the cheeks. The man raised his head and lowered his arms. He did not smile, but the joy of that moment could be felt in the air.
-My love... I humbly reject your proposition.- The woman said, stabbing the man in the gut and swiftly taking out the sword, now covered in blood and organs.
The man screamed in terror and pain, fell to the ground and started wheezing like a pig in the slaughterhouse.
-You bastard, I saw the dagger hanging from your belt. You will pay for this. You will pay... dearly.
The man, still shouting, covered his head with his robe, making him exposed. He tried to cover his eyes. The woman, seeing this opportunity, grabbed the man from down below and cut it out in one quick yet gruesome swing. The noises which came from the man's mouth could no longer be described by words created by humanity.
Then, the woman uncovered her head. Her hair raised, slithering and sniffing the place with their little tongues. There were dozens. Hundreds. Even thousands of snakes, serpents, cobras, all of different shapes and colors. They locked their black eyes in the man and hissed at him. Then, the woman reached for the man's head. He tried to resist, but his wounds were too deep. Too fatal.
She grabbed his robe and tore it apart, leaving his face covered only by his hands. The man was crying like a little child who was about to get punished unnecessarily harshly by his mother. That is not the case.
-You will be a fine collection. I will name you... The Fool.- The woman said, as she grabbed the man's arms and pulled them away from his face. The man stared at the woman's blackened eyes and screamed one last time. A few seconds later, the screaming ceased. The flesh was no more. It was all but stone.
The woman grabbed the man by the shoulders and made him stand. His terrified face, now stuck in time, perpetually reliving his last memory, was something you could only see in those nightmares caused by the worst demons. The woman thought it looked cute in her collection.
So she dragged the man and put in place along with the others, equally terrified, sometimes stoic, sometimes innocent, people who dared enter her place.
She sighed, wrapped her head with a silk piece of cloth and walked back to her bed, expecting a good night of sleep and a majestic meal the morning after.