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Ryan and Delmore out on a date, part 3

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Now they’re out of the water, standing on the seashore admiring the majesty of the mesmerizing landscape surrounding them, her head on his shoulder, his arm holding her by the waist, waiting there to dry out, because they’ve no towels, obviously. Their silence was satisfying… Fulfilling. No words were needed. The crash of waves against the sand, the choking calls of seagulls, the soft-blowing wing, the smell of the whole place altogether… All of these components combined together produced a relaxing melody and it was enough for both of them.

The date has reached its final phase. Best part saved for last. Why you might wonder, would a pizza, coke and video games be the best part? Isn’t it clear enough? YES. That’s it. Of course, he asked her before about what a perfect date would be for her. He spent days planning for this day, so it would be nothing but flawlessly PERFECT.

Yes, he checked the weather forecast. Yes, he chose which safer route to take to his destinations according to thorough research and statistics. Yes, he consulted his female friends on which movie theater to take her and which beach would provide more privacy. And yes, he placed an order on the pizza, a day before the date, to be delivered at exactly 8 p.m to his: place. There was no room for glitches or chance. NONE. Willpower at its finest and purest moments.

He still has an hour to head back to his apartment which was enough. They kept quiet on the way, but if they could hear each other’s thoughts, they wouldn’t be disappointed at all. A wide grin was lighting up his face, as to a shy smile was beaming on hers. He put on some music to go with the mood -Chase Coy_If the mood fell down tonight- one of his favorite songs. She leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes and savored the idyllic, dulcet tones of the acoustic guitar.

He threw a glance at her and boy… Could he ever get tired of looking at her beatific face, looking so halcyon? The only thing that was lacking, he thought, was the golden halo on top of her head.

It’s 7:48 now and they’re at his place. It was a nice loft with hipster decoration, well, you couldn’t actually tell whether it was hipster or Gothic or a mixture or a completely new genre. Let’s go with either Hipthic or Gopster, whatever sounds best to you, I don’t care. The first thing that you’d see upon opening the door is a spacious living room that has what it looks like a multi-dark-colors sofa, a painted-navy-blue, round, wooden coffee table right in front of the sofa resting over a distressed, woolen, purple rug and a 42 inch plasma TV that he uses on occasion. A DVD player and various consoles and DVDs are arranged inside a wide wooden shelf right under the TV.

On the left would be the kitchen area. It was clean and organized. Shelves stocked with all the kitchen tools needed. A big 2 sided fridge stands tall in the middle, between a set of wooden cabinets, filled with lots of water bottles, veggies, and fruit, all sorts of meat except pork and no alcohol. There’s also whole wheat pasta and other healthy stuff. Women love a guy who takes care of himself and Ryan’s very good at that. In the very middle, lies a, what looks like, DIY-ed counter with Italian marble counter-top with swivel bar stools scattered around it. There’s, also, this specific thing that would catch anyone’s attention which is the steel serving cart resting next to an Elodie, grey sideboard at the end of the area. He does like his little trinkets, except this one is not that little.

At the far end of the opposite side, you’d lay eyes on a steel, pinned-to-the-floor black latter, serving as stairs, leading upward to his bedroom, where the magic happens. Never mind the last bit, I’ve always wanted to say that.

It only takes you one peek from the edge of the latter to figure out around 80% of Ryan’s bedroom. A king-sized custom-made bed with comfy pillows and clean sheets right at the center of the vast space, a big desk on the far side of the room with scattered papers all over it. You could see the bottle of ink and feather dipped in it. Elegant decorations were hanging on the wall either from DIY-ed, impressive-looking shelves, like trophies, diplomas, certificates, rare video games collectibles, superhero figurines and keychains, etc.. Oh yes, he’s quite the video-games/superhero fanatic alright. He watched all of the Marvel and DC animated and cinematic movies, TV series and cartoons with no exception. His favorite TV series being DareDevil, his favorite cinematic movie being Deadpool, his favorite animated movie Batman: the killing joke and his favorite cartoon is young justice.

Stick to the brick walls, were a couple of superhero posters, most of them being Deadpool’s, his forever favorite. By the way, Deadpool isn’t really a superhero, he was first listed as a villain but then upgraded to the anti-hero list, just like the Punisher and other characters. With nail support, there was this particular intriguing portray of several gloomy scratched faces hanging over the bed sending blue vibes, as if there was a tormented soul behind them. If there was one word best to describe it, it would be « melancholic ».

There were also nature paintings, forests to be exact. Oh, he loves forests. He loves the tall trees, the damp soil, the petrichor, the cloudy weather, the high cliffs, etc… A spacious shack in the middle of nowhere is one of his wild dreams where he could go on living a simple life with a partner. All of his dreams requires the presence of a partner, a female partner. Whose better to be there for you in ups and downs other than your significant other?

And he’s contemplating her right now, his eyes never letting her out of sight, drinking her in, absorbing her presence, savoring her company.

The ringing doorbell disconnected their unparalleled tray of thoughts. Pizza’s here. Fun time. She excused herself as she headed to the restroom, the one next to his bedroom. The delivery guy was offered a generous tip for being on time. He grabbed the pizza and proceeded to the living room to set the place.

There wasn’t much to do. He was 99% prepared. He just laid the pizza on the table, brought the cans of coke out of the fridge, turned on his PS4 and chose a combat game « Tekken 7 ». This is going to get competitive. He didn’t have to wait long until she emerged out of the restroom. But before she took a seat next to him, she headed to the stereo set, on the far side of the living room right beside his serving cart. Delmore examined the CDs and grabbed what she was looking for. Demi Lovato’s latest album.

You’d wonder how the hell did it get there since if you had to pick the odd CD out of the whole collection, it would definitely be Demi Lovato’s CD. That type of music is light years away from his preferable taste. A Demi Lovato album CD resting in the middle of all Three Days Grace’s albums, some of Nickelback’s albums, some of Breaking Benjamin’s albums, some of Steel Panther’s albums. In case you don’t know who Steel Panther are and you’re a conservative person, I beg of you to please not listen to them. There were also several burner CDs with an assemblage of tracks – « assemblage » here is a fancy synonym of the word « collection » from a French descend – he selected specifically for his own liking that includes some of Anberlin, Chase Coy, Veil Of Maya, Plini, Frank Sinatra, Eminem, Metallica, Motorhead, Megadeath, Rev Theory, Aurora, SYML, Yellowcard, Simple Plan and the list goes on and on… So yeah, now you know why the Demi Lovato CD wins the award of « how the hell did you end up here with the other CDs » award, and the answer to that question is obvious. Yes, that’s it. Oh no, he didn’t develop a crush on Demi Lovato. Gosh no! The other explanation! Demi Lovato is Delmore’s favorite musician and she loves her songs, so our friend Ryan went out to the CD store down the corner next to the pastry shop from which he always buys a piece of fruit tart and a mocha each morning on his way to work.

Maybe by now you’re thinking ‘What a hopeless, desperate dumb*ss! He’s doing all of this for nothing. When she sees that he’s done all of what he has so far, she’d consider him as an obsessed stalker and he’ll drive her away’ while some of you might go ‘AWWWWWE OMG that’s so adorable! I wish someone would do something like that for me for once!’

No matter where you stand upon the matter, the fact that can’t be ignored is that he’s putting some extraordinary effort into the whole thing. He’s stepping out of his comfort zone just for the mere sake of impressing her. Some say that’s more than enough, others disagree. So far, so good for him.

So, she put the CD in the stereo system and clicked play. Immediately after the first song started blasting, she began to dance, jumping all over the place, hair like and electric fan twirling from side to side, up and down while he was sitting on his sofa, in a comfortable seated position, yet again contemplating her. He was staring at her in complete awe and admiration, you can read his feelings just by looking at his eyes. That moment, they were so expressive. He was staring at her like a guy would stare at his beloved one when she’s doing something, not paying much attention to him, and he’d just sit there and watch her with this « I must’ve done something right to deserve her in my life » look on his face. You know what I’m talking about. There’s a picture of Barack Obama doing just that to his wife circulating on Facebook. And another one of a scene from the movie Tangled with the caption ‘I wish someone would look at me like that’. She was dancing, bare feet, carefree and not giving a damn about worries. She stopped, turned her head to the side taking a good look at Ryan, and strode towards him playfully, asking for his hand to dance.

« Come on. Dance with me. Let’s have fun! »

« No, I… I don’t dance. »

« Don’t ask me, I don’t dance, don’t ask me, I don’t dance… Madame with you » and she broke off laughing while he was staring at her flabbergasted.

« Hello! I’m quoting Frank Sinatra… His song… I don’t dance? I saw the name on one of your CD burners »

Waw… Do you have any idea what she just did right there? She just copied one of his signature moves. What move that is you ask? Let me break down one of Ryan’s funny signature moves that always works when he tries to make a girl laugh: so they’d be in the middle of a conversation and she stops with a word or a sentence that’s the title or a part of the lyrics of a song and he just starts singing that song. Very silly, yet effective. And with that move, her score to just went up from perfect to too perfect, a couple of points and she’d reach godess level to him and he’d build her a temple and start a new religion after her. Just kidding!

« Never mind » She continued rolling her eyes « Come on you scardy cat. I’ll teach you »

« No seriously, I’m fine over here. I’m good with just watching you do your thing. It’s quite pleasant actually. You’re… Very good » He said, partially blushing, shifting uncomfortably in his place.

And that’s when she goes down on one knee, bows her head down, offers her hand out and says:

« Would your majesty please honor me with a dance? »

He couldn’t help himself but crack a chuckle and then nodded, taking her hand and replied in a flawless British accent:

« Why of course my lovely lady. How could I ever deny you a quest? »

So they danced and danced until their feet could no longer bare it, and their throats went dry.

« I need a drink » declared Delmore.

« Help yourself to a soda, but don’t you dare steal a slice of pizza behind my back » Replied Ryan teasing « I think it’s about time that you and I get to see who’s the better gamer in this room »

He went back to the sofa, took his place and motioned her to take her place next to him. She sat down, brought a knee to her chest and took a concentration position, he handed her a joystick then smirked at her with a devious naughty idea of his own.

He looked at her sideways all smugly and such and she eyed him questioningly and he finally said:

– How about we make this interesting?

– What do you mean? She replied, a little bit suspicious.

– Well… He paused for a second, for dramatic effects. He was enjoying his wicked thought a little more than he should, not thinking about the probability that it could backfire at him. But he was on consequences-be-damned mode.

– Each time, He carried on, one of us lose, he has to get rid of a piece of clothing.

She grimaced a defying expression and responded:

– You’re ON. Get ready to strip.

Oh was he so determined to win! They set a gaming marathon composed of several two-player games including Tekken 7, Need for speed most wanted, PES 2017, NBA 2k17, Mortal Combat X, Street Fighter 5 and Rocket League. Each game, 3 matches. And be sure that with those hardcore gamers, bragging would become their middle name. Since Tekken and PES 2017 were his corn and bread, he had such a rush kicking her butt causing her to lose her top and trousers, her sandals were already off before his bold preposition.

It was at this point where the table turned. Being distracted by her exposed enticing body parts and eagerness to see the rest of what remains covered, caused by his treacherous hormones. That worked well at her advantage as she came out victorious at both Street Fighter and Mortal Combat. To her astonishment, she noticed that he was wearing an extra layer of undergarments.

– YOU TRICKED ME! She blurted out. You set this up you… You Bastard! She accused as she punched him on the shoulder. And indeed he did. He was able to put on the extra layer of clothes right after paying the pizza guy.

Acting all innocently, with a secret chuckle, he replied:

– No I didn’t. I was wearing them the whole time!

– No you weren’t. I saw what you were wearing at the beach. That undershirt and those shorts weren’t on the pile of clothes when we… Oups… She blushed as she stopped herself right there remembering the beach incident. I don’t think any of them would ever forget that. Not for a very, very long time.

During a situation like this, Ryan was presented with 2 options: either take the opportunity while the memory is evoked to revisit it sofa style or distract themselves from his thoughts by confessing that she’s right and that the trap was all planned. So, he burst out laughing:

– Alright, alright you got me. But it’s not against the rules. He said that with a wink.

– I am so going to get you for this. She said back, narrowing her eyes at him but failing to fully contain a faint smile.

– How about raising the stakes? Ryan asked cocking his head to one side.

– What do you have in mind Mr.Sinister? Boy, did he love that comic book reference! Is there any chance that she could possess any imperfections at all? He thought.

– I suggest, Ryan replied, for each match won, the winner gets to put on a piece of clothing back. However… He, suddenly went silent, his wicked grin growing wider making him look like the Grinch on Christmas eve after a bad deed. He was enjoying his little game, having fun being in control over the events. After a few moments he continued, The loser has to take off two.

– Hmmm… She replied thoughtfully, you have a deal. And they shook on it.

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Chapter 5 : Medea, A fractured halo.

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The heat was unbearable to say the least, a suffocating hand squeezing the very air from my lungs. As if eternal damnation wasn’t torture enough for the inhabitants of this cursed realm.

Tartarus wasn’t for the weak. Or at least, that’s what I gathered from the looks of it. Down here, the whispers of Asphodel and Elysieum were a cruel joke. Every instinct in my body was begging me to turn and flee, until a flicker of movement in the distance snagged my attention, making me halt in my steps. 

Someone was watching me. 

“Mermerus?” a woman’s voice echoed through the abyss, “Mermerus, is that you?”

Words died on my tongue. Though a silver of desperation lingered in her voice, everything about the approaching figure sent chills skittering down my spine. Crimson red robes, the color of spilled blood, clung to her form, a stark contrast to her pale skin. Her untamed black hair almost covered the entirety of her back. Something about her seemed disturbingly primordial. This was no benevolent spirit, no sorrowful soul. This woman was a true creature of darkness, someone who had not simply adapted to Tartarus but seemed to thrive in its haunting embrace.

As she drew closer, I could see the disappointment in her eyes slowly settle in. For I wasn’t Mermerus, nor did I know of this person she despondently wanted me to be.

Mere inches separated us now. She towered over me then reached out her hand to cup my face. Her touch wasn’t one of comfort, but far from it.

“You do look remarkably like him.” She murmured, the softness in her voice a fleeting mirage.

“Who is he?” I managed to let out as she turned around and started to make her way back.

“My child.”

“And where is he now?” I dared to ask.

The sound of her footsteps abruptly stopped. In the deafening silence, she turned, a cruel smile twisting her lips.

“Dead.”  She said, her voice devoid of emotion, “I killed him.”

A minute passed, or maybe an eternity I’m not certain. Those last three words hung in the air between us, words that felt more like a boast than a regretful confession. 

“Oh please, spare me the shock, I’m sick of it, Who are you boy? Did Aphrodite send you to further taunt me? Sending a boy who looks like my dead child is a wicked move I must admit.” 

“No, my lady.“ I gulped, “Forgive me but I don’t even know who you are.”

A notorious laugh escaped her lips. “Gods and their twisted games.“ she spat, a flicker of something akin to boredom flashing in her eyes. “Fine then, I am Medea, Grand-daughter of the sun. Daughter of the sea, Niece to supreme sorceress Circe. Witch.” She took a step closer, forcing me to crane my neck to meet her gaze. “ A mere thread separates the bumbling foolishness of mortals and the cruel whims of the gods » she hissed, the last word dripping with venom. “ And I walk that thread fueled by powers you, child, can faintly comprehend.”

Ignoring the termance in my voice, I managed to ask “How did you end up here then? amidst this…torment?”

“Why don’t I show you?” she whispered, her voice laced with dark amusement.

Before I could protest, she reached out for my hand. She muttered something in a tongue I couldn’t quite decipher, a strange incantation. The world began to wrap and twist, the great sleep, the great forgetting, darkness, then light.

The world solidified again, I was no longer in Tartarus. My body didn’t feel like mine, Stagnant powers lurked within me, Realization dawned on me.

 

I wasn’t looking at Medea anymore, I was Medea.

 

Everything was a blur, experiencing one’s memories through their eyes was nothing short of disorienting. The visions got slightly clearer; A Flash of a golden fleece, the triumphant glint in a pair of unfamiliar eyes. A love so intense it burned. Sacrifices made, yet promises shattered, betrayal, passion morphed into a cage of raging fury, lust for revenge, bloody hands. The smell of death, A chilling satisfaction, A hollow victory, Then back to darkness. 

My eyes fluttered open. I stretched my hands, relieved to feel my own body again.

“How did you do that? Doesn’t being in Tartarus stop you from casting any spells?” I breathe out, still dizzy from the lingering magic.

Medea arched an eyebrow as if I had just asked her the most nonsensical question ever.

“I am a witch, boy. Forever bound to earth. I am tied to the four elements. Tartarus is filled with one of them in all its forms, Fire. My power comes from within. Although this cursed place has tamed it, it could never quench its flames.”

The frustration in her eyes mirrored the confusion churning within me. The visions… hazy fragments that have left me reeling. “I felt them…” I stammered, meeting her gaze, “Your emotions, your rage, as if they were mine.” The weight of a story demanding to be told hung in the air. “Tell me Lady Medea, what has happened to you?”

 

A sigh followed by, then she began to unravel her past before me.

 

“Colchis was my home. Magic flowed through my veins, a birthright passed down from my ancestors. Then came Jason, a Greek hero with eyes that shimmered like the Aegean sea and a smile that promised forever. How foolish I was. For him, I defied my own blood. I won him the golden fleece, a prize named by his uncle in order to reclaim his throne. Looking back now, I realize what a waist of muscles Jason was. Without my magic and my wits, he could’ve never returned to his lands victorious AND unharmed. I vowed to protect him. I fled my home to be by his side. Bloody sacrifices on the altar of his empty ambitions. I was promised by Aphrodite an everlasting love as beautiful as dawn breaking over mount olympus if I aid him in his ‘heroic’ quest. I forgot however that while Jason was the goddess’s chosen, I was nothing but her pawn. A mere puppet that will grant her ephemeral glory once hit by Cupid’s bows. But promises made by the gods are fickle. A lesson I had yet to learn at that age.” 

Medea’s fists clenched, turning her knuckles white. She glared into the distance, as if she was reliving the past.

 

“Another woman caught Jason’s eye upon our arrival to Greece. A princess named Glauce with royal blood and a kingdom to rule over. He cast me aside, leaving me and our children within a blink of an eye . Foolish, foolish man. He had underestimated me, like the rest of them. My grief turned into rage. Revenge became the ultimate goal, a burning ember demanding to burn all it touched. Killing him was never an option. I needed him to feel an ounce of the agony I have felt while breathing still. So I did what had to be done. I took from him what he grew to value most, his new fiancé, her father’s money, and our own offspring. And if I had to, I would do it all over again.”

 

A look of serenity washed over Medea’s eyes. She unclenched her fists, her shoulders relaxed. I waited in silence for her to finish her story.

 

“Heaven and Hell became mere words to me. I fled Corinth, cloaked in the golden chariot my grand-father Helios sent me, leaving Jason a broken shell of the man I once loved. People may call me a villain, a mad woman, the devil incarnate for some, but I call myself a hero. I was the one who won the golden fleece. I have defied dragons and armies, navigated foreign waters alongside Jason’s crew and secured his throne all by myself. I deserved the recognition. I have spent my whole life diluting myself to make it easier to be loved. I have dimmed my magic, a witch masquerading as a human for an oath of eternal happiness. I was more than content with working in the shadows and letting Jason take credit for my mastery if only it meant he would be with me. And what do I get in return? Betrayal. Tragedy is a condition to existence, and I have chosen madness as my defense against it. For the dog that weeps after it kills is no better than the dog that doesn’t. My guilt will not purify me. And I accepted that long ago. Let them fear my wrath, let them whisper of my madness. Let them blindly pretend that all of their favorite heroes haven’t bathed their hands in blood too. But of course, blood doesn’t taint a man’s heroism. When a man seeks vengeance, it’s a mark of strength. When a woman does the same, she’s branded a monster.”

 

She tipped her chin upward, as if addressing the very gods who have betrayed her.

 

“I am no longer a pawn of fates. I am Medea, I am my own person and I shall spend my remaining days here in Tartarus, my new found home, where I truly belong.”

 

I stood there, transfixed. Words failed to decipher what I felt at that moment. Medea eyed me up and down one last time. 

“It’s truly incredible how much you look like Mermerus.” she softly whispered,  “Be careful boy. Don’t trust anyone but yourself down here.”

 

My mind grew heavy with questions left unanswered. I watched as Medea disappeared in the swirling sulfurous mist just as she had emerged from it moments prior.  As I started to make my way back towards the gates, I realized that by simply accepting her fate, this scorned woman has already defied the gods. I may not call her a hero, as she demanded to be called, but she definitely wasn’t a villain either. The very line between good and evil blurred before me. I left Tartarus with a heavy heart and a newfound perspective.

 

 

Written by : Fatma Ben Romdhane.

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