I've always been a fan of Greek myth. You can learn alot from it. I modeled this story off of one of my friends.
Hell followed close at his heels as he tore through the Siberian forest. For three nights he had fled across the frozen wasteland from a beast that made the very gods tremble with fear. According to legend, the creature was eternally confined within the gates of the underworld, an offspring of fiery Tartarus and death itself. Trained by the dark Furies of justice, it was loosed every five hundred to do the underworld's bidding. It sought out the infidels, the insolent, and the traitors. Of course, the legend was assumed to be just that, a legend, for the simple reason that there were no survivors to tell the tale. But if there were never any survivors, where did the stories come from?
These thoughts raced through his mind as he weaved through the towering pines, kicking up dirt under his heels. He was a young man, more brawn than tall, with walnut brown skin, a chiseled jaw line, and deep black eyes that seemed to spark with zeal. At one time, he was favored among gods and mortals alike, a hero of unfathomable power, but his pride became his downfall. The Greek Pantheon swore that he would pay for his insolence against the lord of the dead. They grew soft, though, and forgetful, forgiving him for being just like any other mortal. But the wrath of Hades was insatiable.
He sprinted for a dark rift in the icy ground, towing a pale-skinned woman behind him. She was soft and petite with bright blue eyes and luscious black hair that billowed in the wind. Swiftly, he yanked her into the ravine and crouched against the wall. She began to protest, but he slapped a hand over her mouth and pressed her close to him, listening for the beast. The wood was quiet for a moment and still, save the sinless snow that drifted at an angle to the ground.
Then he heard it. The creature from hell. It snuffled not far away, searching for his scent on the frozen ground. He tensed, ready to flee again. It stopped right behind them, seemingly oblivious to their presence. The woman trembled under his firm grip and he could almost see the terror radiating off of her. He closed his dark eyes and prayed to whatever gods that were willing to have mercy on his soul.
But the gods were merciless.
He sensed the creature tense an instant before it lunged. Shoving the woman away, he braced himself for the impact and the foul beast collided with him head on. It had six brawny limbs with huge, clawed paws, making it stand at least eight feet off the ground. It's massive, black-skinned body rippled with sheer muscle and its head was easily the size of his entire being. He didn't shy away as he shoved his feet into the ground and raised his arms, catching it by the muzzle and prying the huge jaws open. They held their positions at a stand off, neither willing to give nor push any farther. The man trembled under its weight, blood streaming from his hands as the teeth ripped through the skin. He would have remained that way until the end of time or the creature surrender and withdrew, for his pride could scarcely let him admit defeat, but he remembered as the wind brushed savagely past him that he was not alone in quest for survival.
Unwilling to let himself be lost to his greed for power, he gave up his brute opposition and grabbed the beast by the neck, constricting it like the Python squeezed the life out of men. It resisted violently, thrashing and gnawing at his shoulder, but he refused to release his hold. He finally felt a sickening snap under him and the beast fell limp. Grunting, he tossed the body away and leapt out of the ravine, in the direction the woman had gone. She couldn't have gotten too far.
The night darkened as he jogged through the trees, which rose out of the gloom like ghosts of a war long past. He tried to shake off the ominous feeling of being watched; he feared nothing. Death itself could prance at his heels and he would know no difference. Mankind was a lot of spineless deserters who had nothing to show for themselves but their mortality, while he emerged as a lion among insects. He refused to accept the fact that he was mortal himself and counted himself among the gods, which Hades would never forgive him for. The son of Zeus had fended off his death for many years, so Hades would take a step forward and force his humanity upon him.
He found the woman a ways away, crouching behind a massive tree with her arms wrapped around her. He smiled at her, entertained, and said in a suave voice, "Your fear amuses me. Have you no faith?"
"But Perry," she whispered. "The beast—"
"Is no more," he replied, his grin widening. "I dispatched him. He will pursue us no longer." When she didn't show signs of moving, he knelt down and picked her up in his arms. "Trust me. Have I ever given you a reason not to?"
Her expression lightened and she rested her head on his shoulder. Before he could speak again, she stiffened suddenly and grasped his shirt with her slender fingers. "What's wrong, love?" he asked, oblivious to what she saw behind him.
He sensed the aura of death before she could answer and leapt away as the beast lunged for them. It skidded to a halt twenty feet away and turned to face them, crouching as a low growl escaped its lips. Perry watched it warily, not letting his surprise show on his face. It was the same beast he had just slew, watching him with vivid, undying eyes.
"Perry, it's—"
He silenced her. The beast's snarl swelled, rattling the bitter winter air. Tension built between the two, like a flood behind a dam, and threatened to break as it drowned out the night. Perry's eyes never left the black creature just as its gaze never strayed away from him. The woman trembled in his arms, but he paid her no heed. The challenge was all that existed and he would not let his enemy survive again. His pride devoured him whole.
It lunged and he tossed the woman away in an effort to free his arms. He braced his legs as they collided and he beat the beast across the face before cracking its body against a tree. It fell to the ground, but didn't stay for long before diving at him again. The vicious battle continued and the woman found it was more like watching two monsters than a beast and a man. Wounds went unnoticed as the night drove on endlessly. She lingered behind one of the trees, a pale hand over her thin lips, and shivered there in the constant snowfall.
She loved him. She knew that, but he just wouldn't let his pride go. It had consumed him and he was so blind, fighting this beast like he could never die. He didn't even seem to notice how much he was bleeding or how his movements were slowing down or how each time the creature snapped at him it came closer to hitting its mark. She couldn't watch this anymore. She couldn't watch him die to his own foolishness.
It came at him again and his legs gave out beneath him, sending him stumbling into the snow. He grabbed a nearby branch and thrust it at the beast's face, unwilling to show his weakness. He would not admit that he was outmatched or that the world was right about his mortality. He was the son of Zeus, brother of Heracles, child of infallible strength. The whole world knew this. What would they think of him if they saw him fall to the likes of this beast, a creature that wasn't even supposed to exist?
He couldn't stand anymore, his legs unwilling to work and leaving him defenseless. The creature loomed mere inches away from him, its massive maw opening for the last attack, and Perry suddenly found himself staring truth in the face. It was an amusing thing, really, to find that after so many years of resisting Hades and his grasp that death was as real to him as it was to every other man. Death had lingered over his head for years, its malicious clawed hand arced back for the kill, and only now on the brink could he see it. If he hadn't been so devastated by this knowledge, he would have laughed. How ironic, to see death when it is already too late to go back. He no longer had the will to fight, only to kneel and watch as his blood would make the virgin snows unclean.
It dove for his head. He closed his eyes and prepared himself for the oncoming darkness. Time stood still there on the edge. The snow kissed his bloody skin. The night held its breath. A snarl. A tear.
A scream.
Perry opened his eyes when death did not take hold. Where was the darkness he was certain would come? The beast had withdrawn, blood dripping from its muzzle and a mystified look in its eyes. It seemed confused as to what had happened and what it should do next. Then Perry looked at the ground and saw what perplexed it. The woman was there in front of him, sprawled on the ground, her body mangled and shredded. She had leapt in front of him at the last minute and taken the blow herself.
Perry blinked, pulling himself from his daze, and took the woman in his arms. She breathed harshly, her blood pooling in the snow. "Why?" he breathed, stroking her face with a trembling finger. "Why?"
She looked up at him, her distant eyes at peace, and smiled weakly. "Because…I couldn't…watch you die…"
"But it was my price to pay," he said desperately. "My death. You don't deserve this."
"Maybe not, but…" She coughed and blood splashed on the front of his shirt. "But I love you. You deserved…a second…chance…"
"No," he whispered, holding her closer. "No. Please, no. I can't lose you. Not for my mistakes." Tears streamed down his face, but she found the strength to wipe them away.
"Don't mourn for me." Her words were scarcely a vapor in the wind. "I want this…" Her arms went slack. Her eyes became empty. Dead.
"Nicole! No. Please, no!" There was no reply. She was already gone. He sobbed for her, all sense of pride long, long gone. There was nothing left to be proud of. It had been taken from him, like the night robs the sun of its shine.
Something shifted in front of him and he looked up, realizing the beast was still standing there. Fight had gone from its eyes, too, as it studied the dead woman's corpse. Its despairing howl shattered the silence and suddenly, it was gone. Perry couldn't understand. It had come for him. Why didn't it finish the job? Thinking about it, though, it made sense. It was a creature of justice, but the death of the woman was not just. She had been innocent. It had sinned and no longer knew what to do.
Laying the woman in the blood-stained snow, he stood and looked around. Rage surged through him. "HADES!" There was no reply, just the wind shrieking in his ears. Grabbing his head, he screamed, "You coward, come out and face me!"
"Why the devil are you screaming?" a calm voice asked.
Perry turned on his heels to face the black robed god of death. "You!" he shouted. "You killed her!"
"There you go again, pointing fingers." Hades yawned, clearly bored, and brushed snow from his shoulder. "Your arrogance is what killed her. If you had kept your big mouth shut, I never would have sent the beast after you."
"LIAR!"
"Gods. I swear, you're worse than Narcissus," Hades said, ignoring Perry's rage. "And that mortal was arrogant."
"Shut up!" Perry screamed. "Just shut up!"
"You yelling at me isn't going to bring her back. I was actually going to give you a chance, but if you want me to shut up then…" Hades turned to leave.
"Wait," Perry called, all anger gone from his voice. "You can…bring her back?"
Hades smirked and faced him. "Of course, silly boy. I'm the lord of the dead, and frankly this was no where near her time to join me in my underworld. So yes, I will bring her back."
Perry eyed him warily. "At what price?"
Hades eyes flickered with eagerness. "Your soul."
He wasn't really surprised. It was, in fact, his life Hades had wanted in the first place. Though, giving up his soul would mean kneeling before the lord of the dead. Perry never knelt for anyone. It went against every fiber of his being. His pride had never allowed him to show respect for the immortals. But…the woman had paid the price for his pride the first time. How could he let her death be in vain? If there was a chance…
"Well," Hades began, shaking Perry from his thoughts. "What's it going to be? I don't have all night."
"I will do it." Perry sighed. "Take my soul. Bring her back. Do what you what you will with me."
"How generous of you," Hades replied, uninterested.
Closing his eyes, he knelt before the god of the underworld, humbled in his weakness. Time stood still there on the edge. The snow kissed his bloody skin. The night held its breath.
Hades touched Perry's head with a cold, bony hand. "Don't you feel special. You're back where you began. The edge of time, where all other mortal life begins."
Perry ignored him, cringing as his soul blazed beneath his skin. Hades pulled back, taking his soul as well. Perry knew he was exactly where he was supposed to be. He did get a second chance and used it like he should have. He used it for renewal, to cleanse him of his pride. His humility would bring back the life of the innocent. This is what he had truly wanted. As his soul passed on to the other side, he felt the woman reemerge to life.
He may die, but in his humility, his name truly would be passed on through the ages. The selfless son of Zeus.
So, there you go. I really like what I did with this. See, my friend is really cocky, so it suited him well.
Please review.