She looked at the soldier in front of her with enchanting emerald eyes. photo by Alexandru Zdrobau
Oh my, the sacred has become condemned.
“All monsters are human,¹” she whispered, lifting her emerald eyes to face the soldiers in front of her.
The young men had entered the temple to pray and were surprised to find an eight-year-old girl amongst corpses and scattered gold roses. The ivory columns that had protected her were stained by the blood of lost souls and the wreck of bane.
None of them understood what had happened before their arrival, but they all knew too well the feared mistress death was. Each soldier grabbed their swords and turned to study their surroundings, believing they could avoid the same ill-fate. Poor devils! As if the monster would come from one of the columns’ fissures.
The girl stared at them with fear, and their commander, that man of grey hair and righteous expression, walked toward her. “Come on. This is no place for a child,” he said, moving his hand for her to approach him.
“All monsters are human,” she repeated with blind faith, shaking her head and digging her nails into the dark skin of her arms. The scarlet elixir of life spilled out.
He took a step toward her carefully, as if he was approaching a scared animal that would run away if he made the wrong move. He could see the trails her tears had left on her dirty cheeks. He moved closer, but the temple trembled and the girl’s breath hitched.
Her emerald eyes closed and her mind flashed fragments of her vision of paradise: a beautiful scarlet lipstick, a white dress, an endless sea, an old myth, a goddess, and a temple in her honor.
The girl opened her eyes to meet the gentle soldier in front of her. All would be over soon; she knew it.
“All monsters are human,” the girl stated when the man was within arms reach and the sound of painful moans filled his ears. It was too late. She shuddered and the tears fell. The soldier turned his back to her and screamed, “Run, child! Run!” He was surprised to find a wall of flying swords in front of him. The little girl hid behind him, clutching his side with desperation.
“I don’t want to run,” someone whispered in his ear and the girl’s hard grip was replaced by soft hands on his chin. They made him turn to face a woman of stunning beauty with enchanting emerald eyes. She smiled, like a hunter ready to kill her prey. Oh, what a fool he had been!
His expression soon turned into horror. His heart regretted the pity he had felt for the little girl. Beauty had never been so disturbing.
The woman tilted her head to the side. The flying swords that had killed his comrades pierced his body. She kissed his lips as he screamed. “Poor little thing,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” Clapping her hands like a spoiled child, she celebrated that her favorite lipstick was finally in her hands.
“I’ve tasted blood and it is sweet,” her chanting echoed in the temple as she dipped her fingers in the man’s blood. What better tone for the goddess of beauty and passion than that of the elixir of life.
Humans were foolish indeed.
If only they knew Aphrodite was not Ares’ lover just for being beautiful…
Her invincible warrior, the god of war, soon came to kiss her.
He loved the taste of her lips.
Even if he had to sacrifice the lives of his men to savor it.
