Hey readers, Nadalada here with a whole new story. I just love Greek mythology and I just finished reading The Lightning Thief, so the plot bunny invaded my brain pretty quickly. I warn you now that there will be NO Percy Jackson characters in this story! I am only using Medusa and the story will be set in the Percy Jackson-verse, so there might be things you recognize. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson… duh
Every living being has feelings. That's what I believed. Whether they hid them, or pushed them away, or ignored them, they were still there. I liked to think of my birth as proof of that. My mother was a monster, or so they tell me. I have never met her, nor did I have any desire to. She was Medusa. Maybe I should back things up and explain a bit.
Let's start with the basic "Everything you know about Greek Myths are true". Well, I guess there are some stories that were written by idealists who wanted to believe they knew everything. But authors like Homer really knew what was going on. My mom, Medusa, in all her ugly, snakey, turn-people- to-stone-with-a-glance glory had been tired of living in isolation and wanted to explore the modern world. So she donned some clothes that made her look like a Middle Eastern women and a pair of shades, then went out into an unsuspecting world.
She opened a small statue shop in New York, the most diverse city she could find, and started a new life. About half of the people who entered that shop came out again. Mother would always turn the pretty ones to stone, creating her merchandise, and then sell those statues to the not as desirable customers. A good business woman indeed.
Now we're getting to the part of the story where the whole "Every living being has feelings" comes into play. One day, my very mortal Dad went into Mom's shop looking for a small statue for the living room. Now my Dad was a very good looking man; dark shiny hair, muscular arms, dark sunglasses covering glazed over green eyes. Medusa whipped off those shades of hers in a second, intent on gaining a pretty new statue. I imagine she was pretty astonished when her power didn't work.
I've been told she stripped to nothing and started marching towards my Dad, trying to turn him to stone with all her might. She even took off his glasses, thinking they were some sort of magical item to deflect her power. But all she found under those glasses were glassy green eyes staring straight through her and a smile on the man's face. My Dad was blind. Man couldn't see a thing, and therefore was unaffected by my Mom's ugliness. The great and terrible Medusa was instantly smitten.
You see, Mom was pretty lonely and would often smash statues of lovers due to her insane jealousy. For her to meet a kind man like my Dad who had no idea how ugly she had become because of Athena, was some sort of miracle. At least, that's what Dad told me. Many forget that Medusa was once an extremely beautiful mortal girl, whose looks had even attracted gods. She had experience with the ways of men.
It had probably helped that my Dad was also a pretty lonely individual whose blindness was considered a huge turnoff by the women he had met. The two had what could be considered one of the weirdest one-night stands in the world. I mean a famous mythological creature, and a kind, but naïve blind man getting it on in the backroom of a shop filled with statues made from actual people, is fricken crazy weird. Of course my Daddy dearest didn't really have a problem telling me all this… in detail. Overly-honest bastard.
My dad left the next day, well was kicked out was more like it. I guess Medusa had just used my Dad as an outlet for letting out her sexual-frustrations. Ew. He honestly hadn't expected to hear from her again, but as fate would have it, he did. One night a basket containing yours truly showed up on his doorstep along with a letter telling him her true identity and a request. The "I am Medusa, the gorgon from Greek mythology" really floored Dad. He didn't know if he could believe her or not, but in the end, the memories of hissing slithery things toughing him, rough, almost scaly skin, and too sharp teeth, won out. As a man with a wild imagination and hopes too high, he accepted her story as fact, shuddered, and moved on. Did I mention he was a very strange man?
The request was simply to name the healthy looking young baby girl after her. Dad was a little less accepting of that, but bowed to the fact that she might just kill him if he didn't, and named me Medusa. Then, seconds later, came up with the nickname Maddy.
Dad raised me the best an independent blind man could, but there was always that gap he couldn't fill, the one where a Mom was supposed to be. I never went to look for my mother, though when I was 12 she sent me a short letter telling me where she was; some place called Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium. She had said in the letter she wanted to explain to me my origins and powers. I never went. I didn't really care about my origins and I had never displayed any "powers". No, what she thought was power was a curse to me.
Being half Gorgon had not come without a price. Yeah, I was a very human looking and very pretty young girl most of the time, but there were times, times where I turned into the gorgon I half was. Whenever I lost control of my temper my skin would turn scaly, wings would sprout from my back, my hair would turn into snakes, who I discovered had their own minds like real snakes, except I could talk to them. I would become the ugly hag that my mother was, and I hated it. I had never turned anyone into stone but I just knew that if I ever encountered someone who wasn't blind when I was out of control, they would be a goner.
Really, it was like being Dr. Jekall and Mr. Hyde or the Hulk, which you think would be awesome, but like I said before it really wasn't. Dad and I were both terrified that I would accidently kill someone someday, so I took online courses instead of going to school, Dad doing his best to help me. I almost never left the house, my outside knowledge coming from long talks with Dad, the News, various TV shows and Movies, books, and my favourite, the Internet.
A sad life I had, but it only got worse. We're back in the present and my little history lesson is over. I'm 16 now, I have some control over my "powers", I've still never met my mom, I leave the house more often, and my best friend, my Dad, is dead. He wasn't murdered or anything dramatic like that, no, he was just walking along outside with his seeing stick, as he liked to call it, in hand when some kid had stolen said seeing stick, probably thinking it was funny. Without it my dad hadn't known where he was going and had started bumping into people.
New Yorkers weren't nice or friendly people and they started to shove him out of their way, not knowing he wouldn't be able to catch himself and get out of their way. They had pushed him, unintentionally, right into traffic. New York traffic waited for no one and after seconds of being on the road, he was hit by a large truck. The paramedics say he died instantly.
When I saw it on the news, which was how I already knew the whole story, I lost control completely, and now here I was 3 days later still sitting in the middle of the now torn up living room floor, in shock. I just don't know what to do. I had depended on my dad for so much and now he was gone. I felt my eyes start to sting, my vision blurring with tears. Sobs started racking my body, sending me even closer to the floor. I curled up in the fetal position, wishing a big black hole would just swallow me up. Do people go to heaven when they die? No, Greek myth were real, that meant they go to The Underworld, or is that only for bad people? I let out a wordless cry of frustration. I wish I had paid more attention to what Dad had tried to teach me about Geek myths instead of being an insolent brat and ignoring him just to spite the mother I didn't know.
"Why? Why! Why do terrible thing happen to good people? Can you stupid Gods answer that?"
The only response to my ragged cry was a clap of thunder overhead, but I could really care less about a freak storm right now. No amount of death in books or on TV could have ever prepared me for the amount of pure pain I was feeling now. The wonderful numbness that I had gained when I went into shock was fading fast and I just couldn't deal with it.
How I could go from recounting a brief history of my life in my head, to being an emotional mess on the floor, I didn't know. I could only blame my less emotional, more bloodthirsty gorgon side. I guess I could always be bi-polar as well. Great, I'm doing it again.
I shook my head and focused on the picture of Dad's bloodied corpse that would forever be burned into my mind. New York reporters were ruthless when it came to getting a juicy story like this one, and had been sure to show the footage live so no one could stop them. My head started pounding, an almost reassuring sign that I was still sobbing and mourning Dad's death. I had no bigger fear then becoming as cold-hearted as an actual gorgon. Dad never would have wanted that. Another ragged cry escaped my lips.
But then again, Dad wouldn't want to see me lying on the floor attempting to drown myself with tears. I got up shakily, and took a step forward. My legs couldn't support me and I ended up on my knees. Holding my aching head in on hand and using the other to push myself up, I staggered over to the overturned couch.
I leaned against the couch leg for support for a little while, trying desperately to pull myself together.
"I can do this. I can have a normal life like Dad wanted for me. I'll do it; I'll do it for you Dad."
My broken whisper went unheard in the empty house.
So this OC is kind of completely different then I have ever written before. If you haven't already figured it out, I'll tell you now that because of her two personalities she will be prone to major mood swings. So a pregnant woman without the baby I hope you like it so far and PLEASE review!