Agony twisted itself incarnate within the barbed blade, piercing robe, skin, flesh and bone. Unnatural and shrill the scream ripped from her soul to rise high into the blackened sky. The crumbling stone slid away under her feet and the ground's unforgiving surface caught her within its rigid grip. Red melted with black and white skin became stained scarlet.
She awoke long after the sun had conquered the night and blinked wearily into its blinding rays. Slowly, she rose to her feet, deeply aware of the pain within her chest. Where the sword had struck now there was but a scar, but the memory of the dreadful wound still lingered.
Her staff appeared beside her and she gripped it tightly. Hand against her chest, she sighed and in a roar of green flames she teleported herself away from the cliff and its rocky bottom.
Once within her keep high in the Forbidden Mountain, she regally lowered herself into her throne-like seat.
"Ignorant mortals..." she chuckled, ignoring the pain within her chest that flared to life again while she spoke. Each breath, though measured and shallow, was laboured and she noticed with disdain that the energy required to teleport had left her faintly weak.
Had Prince Philip really thought a sword of truth made by a single good fairy would slay her? Honestly she had viewed him as more intuitive than that. Still, she leaned back, he had escaped her clutches and freed his precious princess from her curse. Perhaps it was herself that she had overestimated.
Within her stormy eyes she could all but see the laughing joined courts of Kings Stephen and Hubert. Princess Aurora and Prince Philip were no doubt bonded in marital bliss and what fear she had happily fed on for 16 years, was now conquered by the joy and peace.
Diablo, her beautiful black raven, was now stone upon the rail of her tower and her assorted fools had melted back into the forests and caves once they had learned she had "died". They had no doubt feared King Stephen would attack the Forbidden Mountain, and the loyalty they held to their irritable Mistress was cut upon her passing. It was for the best, she thought, after all, she did not need them. They had, over the many years, far more times drove her nearly mad rather than proved helpful. But she would miss her raven; miss his meaningful smirks and mischievous glinting eyes.
Affection linked one only to eventual suffering... eventual heart-ache. She sniffed softly, shivering in the cold darkness of the room. Never before had it seemed so pitifully empty. Void of life and depicting exactly what the truth of shadow truly was. A vacuum of endless failure.
Overcome by the weakness in her chest and the solitude's pain, Maleficent fell asleep within the chair, her staff clattering from her limp fingers and her horned headdress resting serenely back against the black throne.
Hours later,the Mistress of Evil, stiffly, from the seated slumber, rose from her seat and began to pace the lifted stone surface. Her styled tattered purple, black and red robes fanned out to glide behind her lithe form and she lifted pale fingers to her chest once again.
Blood-red lips pursed in patient frustration as she gazed from the large windows. The darkness that extended from her home no longer tainted the kingdom's capital. It pained her almost as much as her healing chest; to realize how diminished her death had made her long crafted image of depravity.
Razing a village or two came to her sharp mind, flashing in brilliant flame-glory before her pale gold eyes. No Princesses to be awoken from a delightful death... no Princes to crush her delicate dreams. Then again, logically the after-effects of a burning village would hardly equal the euphoria she had felt upon cursing young Aurora. Fate truly hated her...
Irately hitting her svelte hand against the nearest wall, she cursed thunderously in the darkest tongue she knew, pouring forth her vexation in elegant oratory for the stark crumbling walls to hear. Somehow it felt as though she was being mocked... and cruelly so. The very frost of King Stephen's kingdom had held her malicious name and founding, but now she found that perhaps it had all been wasted. Long years of constant siege with the kingdom were now at an end.
Were she a lesser being, she may have cried bitter tears. Truly pity had reached into Death's immortal soul and given her life, despite the Truthful wound. The knowledge that perhaps pity had saved her was as yet another fatal blow to the powerful fairy, as she leaned heavily against the wall, breathing heavily from her verbal attack against it.
She heard the soft snap of the flourished black banners against the walls and blinked wearily as sleep reached forth its hands to claim her. Blearily, she found her limps weighed heavily and she was unable to climb to her feet. Rather she sunk lower until she lay on the floor, her pale cheek saved from the cold floor by a fold of her cloak. Dreams of black filled her vision and she knew no more.
"Someone forgot to awaken the true sleeping beauty..." A masculine voice chuckled, only a short distance from her ear. Blinking, Maleficent opened her eyes to see a large man towering over her, his grey arms folded over his tunic styled attire. Blue flames danced wildly upon his head where most preferred hair and a small skull held his robe together just under his right shoulder.
Her eyes widened considerably as she struggled to rise to her feet. The man smiled cheekily, showing off sharp long teeth that complemented his glowing yellow eyes and long chin amazingly well.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice sharp and firm, despite her position on the floor. She hated having to look up at him; having to bend her spinning head back to meet his roguish eyes.
He snickered, amused at her tone of voice.
"Hades, Lord of the Underworld and Resident God of the Dead." Grandly finishing with an exuberant sweep of his arms, he winked at her. "Kinda makes you want to get to know me doesn't it?"
As a matter of fact it only increased the growing discomfort within her chest. So, Death's pity had in fact not been merciful, if this disgusting being had been sent to take her soul. The very thought sent shivers of revulsion up and down her spine and gave her additional energy to slowly climb to her feet.
"Not at all." she hissed, carefully skirting around him as she made her way to her throne and the staff lying on the floor by it.
"Whoa! Not so fast, babe." Hades rushed to block her from her staff and gave her what he hoped was a winning grin. "I didn't come here to cart you back to the underworld." She raised an eyebrow at his "assurance" finding it odd that he seemed to know what she was thinking. But then again, he had claimed to be a god...
The moment of awkward silence passed as Hades awaited her answer, only to have her glare intensify until he finally backed away in defeat. "You should bottle that... the Fates would give their eye for a glare like that." he muttered, crossly.
Maleficent ignored him, picking up her staff and using it to help balance herself, moved as quickly as possible to get away from the supposed God of the Dead.
"Can't you just hear me out?" he called after her, popping in a smoky fashion in front of her.
"I neither desire to 'hear you' nor 'see you'..." she smirked, rolling her eyes at his shock.
"But, come on!" he growled, grabbing his flame hair. "Just- Ah! Okay, fine."
She continued to walk, but he followed, nearly pitiful in his creature manners.
"I need your help."
Possibly due to the fact this was the last thing she expected to come from his broad lips, Maleficent stopped and turned to face the god.
"My help?" she repeated, a look of subtle curiosity playing across her stern features.
Hades nodded, taking her question as a good sign.
"Well, it's kinda embarrassing..." he chortled, wiping a hand across his brow as if perspiring.
If it were not for his childish chuckles and horrendous grammar, she may have found him amusing...
"The thing is that I um sorta kinda failed to kill Hercules." He breathed a sigh of relief, smiled wide and tucked his arms behind his back. "Whew, glad I finally got that one out."
That makes two of us... Maleficent thought, her patience fraying. Who was Hercules and why had this fool dared to approach her with such petty ambitions?
"You see, Herc is the son of Zeus, you know 'almighty-powerful-king-of-the-god' and all that yada yada..." he waited for the light of realization to dawn in her calm eyes, but was met only with continued melting restraint.
"And..." she demanded, fingers tightening around her staff. The action was not lost to the god, who swallowed nervously.
"So, I thought you might be you know wanting to help..." he glanced out the window at King Stephen's palace off in the distance. "Since your out of a fish to fry yourself."
Anger rose swiftly as shame, guilt and frustration swarmed her thoughts. It irked her beyond comprehension to be compared to the failed god before her. To hear he had sought her out, not for her great and truly devious power, but because he thought she was a kindred spirit of sorts. It went far beyond mocking; it was blasphemy.
"Get out of my castle!" she thundered, striking her staff against the floor as flames began to collect around her.
"Hold your flaming horses, Maleficent!" Hades all but cried, narrowly dodging the collection of fiery darts aimed at his person. "Your the only person who can help me!"
She glowered at him, fuming in her now silent rage, but refrained from attacking him again. Firstly she felt too weak and secondly... he was cowering in terror already.
"How so?" she asked, her voice back to its calm velvet.
Hades gulped.
"Well, I asked around for quite awhile before I found you... Jafar is still stuck as a genie in the sands of the Arabian desert, Ursula was still trying to gather more 'poor unfortunate souls'... and well no one else..." he trailed off, losing his fear due to her inaction and shrugging as if in despondency, Hades sighed.
To her near horror, the fact that he had apparently viewed her as his 'last hope' lifted her spirits somewhat. What fiendish plot did he need assistance in executing? The bloodier the better in her current mood. However her thoughts were dashed more thoroughly than her body had been against the rocks, when Hades continued.
"I just need a place to crash until I can get the dead back where they should and all that." he smiled, eyes wide with hope that she'd agree.
Nearly hissing in annoyance, Maleficent turned again and left him behind. Of all the idiotic... she quickly surmised that 'crashing' was a staying and she had no desire to harbour him within her keep. Not for an hour; not for a day.
"Oh come on! I'll stay out of your uh horns and you'll forget I'm even here!" Hades promised, running after her.
Almost cringing, loathing creeping up her arms, she sighed. No doubt he would pester and insist far longer if she continued to ignore him than if she simply gave him a room as far from her's as possible.
"Very well." she intoned, not looking at him. "But this is only temporary." Ignoring the god's whoops of delight, she continued on down the hallway until she was at the stairway leading to her tower.
What had she ever done to deserve a visit from Hades? she asked herself, boiling as the sound of his 'joy' continued to echo through the drafty castle.
