A Scion: Hero story. I'd really appreciate reviews. Also, English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any glaring mistakes. If you feel like correcting me, go ahead, just be nice about it ;)
Chapter 1:
With shaking hands Sophia pushed another clip of ammunition into the gun – a Swiss Sig Sauer that had already been used in three hold-ups in as many states and would see its last use today – and tried to keep her breathing under control.
This was supposed to be an easy job. Connor employed a pair of bodyguards who guarded both his office and the entrance to the building when he was working late, but somebody had been sloppy on their background check. One of them had a son of three, the other had a severe gambling problem with debts to match, and that had been the end of that. The plan had been to get in through the fire exit, walk into his office and put a bullet into Connor's brain.
Well, to be fair, up to that point everything had been dandy.
The sound of clumsy steps brought her to her feet again. Taking a deep breath Sophia abandoned her cover to make the most of her range advantage and brought Connor into the cross hairs of her gun. He was almost unrecognizable. The tiny hole in his forehead was the least of it. Two more bullets had shattered his right cheekbone and his chest was a virtual sieve. His expression had changed however. A few minutes ago, in his office, he had seemed to be confused more than anything else when she had put bullet after bullet into his chest. Only when he had touched the back of his head and his fingers had come back red and gray he had seemed to comprehend what was happening. At that point Sophia had already retreated into the corridor.
Now his face was contorted into a bloody mask of rage. The sight of him made her emit a high-pitched whining noise, but the plopping sound of her silenced gun drowned it out as she emptied another round into Connor. By rights he should be dead, but apart from the impact force the bullets didn't even slow him down.
Almost hypnotized Sophia stepped back, frantically counting the bullets. This was her last magazine.
Suddenly her foot got entangled with something - an abandoned mop and bucket, of all things – and before she could do something to regain her balance she was flat on her back, down to her last bullet.
Connor threw himself onto her, in the obscene mockery of an embrace, and the muzzle of her gun connected firmly with his abdomen. His stomach exploded when she pulled the trigger, but he didn't seem to notice. His hands closed around her throat and slowly started to squeezed the life out of her.
"Hold it." It wasn't a very loud voice, but it commanded obedience nevertheless. Connor froze instinctively and turned his ruined face to stare at the newcomer. Grasping for the opportunity Sophia wiggled herself out of his grip and tried to make a run for it.
"You too, girl", the voice added calmly, and without really knowing why she stood and turned to face a portly man in his fifties, dressed to the nines and although his mouth and eyes were framed by stern lines his dark hair was unmarred by silver lines. There was something vaguely familiar about him, although Sophia was certain she had never seen him before. Also, he was unarmed and alone.
"Who ah heou?" Connor demanded to know in a slurry voice and made a threatening step towards the man.
For a few seconds the other regarded him thoughtfully, then waved a hand dismissively. "Sit and be quiet."
Judging by what was left of his expression Connor was just as surprised as Sophia when his legs folded under him.
"Come, child. We have to talk." Apparently oblivious of the gun she was still holding he took her by the elbow, led her to a comfortably cushioned sofa and sat her down.
Trying to ignore the dead man's murderous glare, Sophia gave him a nervous stare. After a second's consideration she pulled the gun's safety switch and slipped it into her jacket. "Now... now what?" she murmured, trying to meet the man's eyes but failing miserably.
"Now we'll do the introductions", he told her flatly and leaned back, his arms comfortably spread over the backrest. "You are Sophia Bontate, daughter of Maria Bontate – you are her spitting image, actually – twenty four years old and killer-for-hire in service of your uncle Salvatore Abatino." He paused for a few seconds to let her digest that. "I am your father."
Sophia frowned. "No, you're not."
He ignored that. "My name is Hades. Does that sound familiar?"
"As in 'Lord of the Dead, hi, how ya doing'?"
He turned to look at her, really look at her, and when those dark eyes met hers she flinched. "We will pretend you did not just say that" he told her calmly.
"Sounds great, sounds great", she said hastily. "So, uh, that old Greek God of the Underworld, yes?"
"Yes. If you know the stories you should also know that my kind sometimes joins with mortals – which can result in children."
Suddenly Sophia felt a chill, deep, deep in her bones. "Okay. Okay, I see where this is going. But, even if you're really – you know..." Actually, considering that Connor was still glaring at her, even though he now contained the better part of two magazines of bullets, it was almost impossible not to believe him. But as for the father part, why would he even think- Hang on...
"Holy flippin'- You did my mom!"
Her self-proclaimed father raised an eyebrow and even Connor gave a disparaging snort. To her vast annoyance Sophia felt herself blush. Trying to save whatever dignity was left to her she added: "I suppose you already did a divine paternity test or something?"
"Or something, yes", the old god told her gravely. "Suffice to say that my divine ichor – blood – runs through your veins and you are mine in the eyes of the fate. Which is why I bothered to save your life from that corpse over there."
"Lovely", Sophia muttered. "So, if you didn't to this..." She pointed vaguely at Connor. "... what's the matter with him?"
Hades sighed deeply. It sounded like the wind whispering in an old cave. "The Gods are at war. Not just those of my Pantheon, but also the old ones from Egypt, the young Loa and many others. For the Titans are rising, seeking to destroy both us and the realm of mortals. The Underworld is in disarray as well; souls escape or - like it happened with him - aren't collected in time."
"Oh." Somehow this didn't sound like an appropriate response to such a world-shattering revelation, so she added: "Is it serious? I mean, could it bring about the apocalypse or something?"
"Yes", he stated flatly. "And the Overworld is not the only battlefield. Lots of collateral damage wrecks this realm as well, and the Titans release their vile spawn into the world to open up another front and tie our forces here. Which is why we need every soldier we can get."
"Ah...."
He gave her a stern look. "Yes, that means you as well."
"Just checking", she muttered. "So you want me to shoot zombies?"
A faint smile played around his lips. "Those walking dead will be the least of your troubles, dear. Which is why I give you this." A sleek golden necklace slid out of his sleeve and with the deft motions of an old-fashioned gentleman he fastened it around her neck."
Confused, Sophia took up the little pendant. It took her a few seconds to recognize it for a gilded half-eaten fig. Hades noticed her confused frown and without looking at her he muttered: "I trust you are familiar with the legend of Persephone?"
She vaguely remembered the story of a girl who spent half of every year in the underworld. It had something to do with a half-eaten apple or something like that. Then the penny dropped. "This is the actual... Wow! I mean, uh... Thank you?"
"Use it wisely. It represents – and thus it is – a tiny fraction of the Underworld. You can use it to summon souls that you hold a strong spiritual connection to."
"Wait, what kind of connection? What souls?"
"Souls such as him", Hades said and pointed at the other man in the room, who was by now kneeling in a steadily growing puddle of his own blood. "You killed him, after all. That creates a strong bond that allows you to summon him at will. And make him serve you."
"What?" asked Sophia.
"Hwaf?" asked Connor.
"As an adviser, for example. I understand he is very versed in illegal matters in this country, I am sure his knowledge will come in handy. For souls without that connection you will of course need an amplifier, made of memories or blood."
"Will they bring their bodies with them, too?" Sophia asked, horrified.
"Of course not", Hades said with a dark smile. "Watch this." He waved a hand at Connor, who very unceremoniously dropped to the floor. In his place an ethereal and slightly transparent version of him remained, lacking the bullet holes but still sporting a very annoyed scowl.
"He'll stay here for an hour or two, until the ferryman comes around to collecting him. To summon him again you have to sacrifice a pair of black and white mammals, you know the deal", he explained.
Sophia didn't know the deal, but she planned to do some research on the subject. "Uh huh. So... so now what?"
"Now I want you to go down south. There are two more Scions down there – children to other gods than I. On your own you wouldn't last a week." He rose. "Don't embarrass me, little Scion. And give your lovely mother my regards." Without haste he made for the elevator – the one Sophia had disabled earlier. The doors opened instantly and for a second the scents of a very cold river filled the room. Then the doors closed again and he was gone.
With a deep sigh Sophia closed her eyes and leaned back. "This is a terrible night", she sighed.
"You want to talk about terrible nights?" Connor asked her. The ghost or shade or whatever stood up and tried to make a few steps on his insubstantial legs. "You just shot me, woman."
"Listen, buddy, you're a drug kingpin and a small-time arms dealer who thought it was a smart idea to cheat your clients. You are so not allowed to complain." She rubbed her temple. "Boy, Uncle Sal is going to hate this."
"Shouldn't you worry more about that God that knocked up your mother?"
"Hey, can it", she snapped. "Anyway, he may be a god and he may be my father, but Uncle Sal still runs people through a wood chipper."
"I'm so very much not sorry."
"Oh, shut up."