The retelling of a Greek tragedy.

Second Act, part 2

The sunset let the night in, the stars began appearing and it was getting colder with each passing minute. The wind was blowing fiercely, breaking branches and making the leaves fall from the trees. Medusa's wrath had not settled down, and within her heart burnt a fire enough to make the one and only Apollo jealous.
She waited, as a predator stalks its prey, grinding her sword so she can tear apart the bastard's flesh without making even the slightest effort. He did not deserve such a privilege.
Eventually, he arrived. It was a short man, bulky, fat and well-built. Likely a blacksmith. He was wearing a blackened apron and was, of course, covering his eyes.
-I have come, like you asked, priestess.- He said while stumbling upon the temple. His movements were rough as if he was wearing a rusty armor.- Please, tell me what I have to do for me to get offspring.
-Come closer, dear. I want to see your face.- Medusa said, suppressing the anger she felt and making her voice sound like a lover's voice. She did not let go of her sword.
The husband moved forward confidently, expecting answers and a solution. He was carrying a sack, containing the meat and wine Medusa had asked for. Medusa grabbed the sack gently, tapping the husband's hand lightly. The husband turned pale. Medusa opened the wine and took a sip. Sadly, her expectations were not met. The wine was soft in strength and dull in taste, while the meat was rancid enough to notice only by watching it.
Medusa could feel her snakes rumbling under her coverings, expectant, anxious for a nice meal. Medusa did not bother to calm them.
-Take off your clothes.- Medusa ordered. The man complied stubbornly.- I see where the problem is.
-I will do whatever is required. I just want a child.- The man said, his head down, now his face red out of embarrassment.
Medusa took a good look at his bare body. He had scars here and there, most likely animal attacks, as swords use to leave more refined marks on the body. He was as fat as he looked with his clothes on, and certainly poorly endowed. Such an excuse of a man had taken over one of the fairest, if not the fairest, woman Medusa has ever met, and just imagining such vile creature striking her made her get engulfed in rage. She did not hesitate.
With a swift swing, she cut the man's leg, making him fall to the ground. He let go of a painful scream, desperation filled the room, but the anger she felt was greater.
-What are you doing? You monster! You are a monster!- The husband shouted at the top of his lungs, crawling away from her. Alas, it was in vain.
-Maybe I am. What about you?- An evil grin covered her face, making her look like the madwoman she became every time she took the life of a new victim. But this was no victim, not for her at least.- You are not a monster. Of course not, that would be such an impressive title for you. You are dirt. Less than dirt. You are the scum of the Earth, repudiated by Gods, humans and Demons alike.- She grabbed the husband from the neck and made him turned towards her. The husband had his eyes covered.
Medusa took of her coverings and let her snakes hiss at the husband. The husband began crying, pleading for mercy and asking for the Gods to help him. But no God arrived.
The snakes crawled over his skin and began biting him. Drops of blood began dripping from the husband's arms, chest, neck. No wound was fatal, just painful beyond what mortal kind can testify. The crying became whining, the whining became screaming, and slowly, the husband began laughing hysterically.
-This is a dream. This is but a dream.- The husband said, his voice now a tangled mess, the result of a broken mind.- You are not real.
-Oh dear, I am as real as the earth you walk over.- Medusa laughed at such a pathetic display.
The husband gathered his forces and hurled himself towards Medusa, trying to land a single punch on her. Medusa was not impressed, easily dodging the attack and as lighting tears apart the sky, so did her sword rip his hand. It landed a few meters away from them. Blood poured out of the wound, covering both. Medusa stared at him, as he grabbed his arm and desperately screamed for help. No one came.
-Please... please... I will do anything. Please, don't kill me.- The man began crying once again. Little did he know, his last tear was about to fall.
-Too late for that. May your departure to the Underworld be as painful and horrid as these last moments of your were.- Medusa got close to him. The smell of blood and iron was exhilarating, making her doze off and feel joy like she never felt. Killing had become a pass time for her, with each victim becoming easier and quicker. This time, though, it was different.- And say hi to Charon for me.
She reached for the man's face and yanked his eyes coverings. The man stared at Medusa's eyes. Her eyes, red from anger, made the process slow, as painful as she could. She let the husband know how his skin became the marble she would use to decor her temple. She let the husband notice how his veins and nerves were becoming stone. She let the husband know his end was near and there nothing could be done about it. The husband tried to move her apart, but his wounded arm could not respond, while his healthy arm was already becoming stone.
Medusa decided where the petrification would go first, and so, she began with the limbs, slowly working its way towards the chest and the face.
-The Gods are going to punish you for all the atrocities you have committed, you beast.- The husband managed to say, his despair gone and only rage in his voice.
-So be it. I am your punisher now, and may the Gods forgive me for how much... I am enjoying... watching you suffer.
The man changed his face one last time, his physique falling into madness once again. He became stone in that instant, his face now forever petrified at that moment. Medusa was glad, she did not want him to end up with a stoic, heroic grin on his face. She liked it when her victims fall for the fear they had for her.
She grabbed the newly made statue and dragged it to the back of the temple, along with the others. She left it there, to rot and stain as if nothing happened. She cleaned the place and disposed of the husband's clothes and body parts, humming and singing while she did it.
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. Maybe she could get Apollonia to join her.