A/N: Well isn't that just dandy? I'm back with another chapter for everyone, and I'm pretty excited for this one too. Trust me, you'll see why. Anyways stay healthy and safe, the new virus seems to be making decent enough headway around the world now.
The door to the Strife Mansion opens and closes quickly and quietly. A figure twirls happily like a faux ballerina in delight down the steps and towards the main gates. Her hair spins around her body while a gleeful smile adorns her face. Sarah, daughter of Hygieia, yes the Goddess of Health -Don't remind her!- is having a remakrably wonderful night! The full moon shines down high in the sky and her mood couldn't be any higher!
Sure, branding Perry and forcing him to be her personal slave/lover was kinda dickish, but that's just how things go for Amazons! Seriously he should've known what he was getting into being so gosh darn handsome! And to make it even better he escaped. Sure Hylla put a bounty on his head for a while since he killed like four of her sisters escaping, but that just makes him all the more desirable.
Don't look at her that way, she has perfectly acceptable reasons for her tastes! After Hylla hired Perry and they stomped out the cult hanging around Boston things started looking up for them again. They talked more, fucked a little in his car and just overall bonded real nice-like. It's a bizarre concept to wrap her head around, accepting men as something close to equals, but if Queen Hylla manages it with some psycho that can't garden for shit then surely Sarah can with a well adjusted son of Aphrodite that can fight like it's no ones business.
Sarah ends her twirling dance of happiness only twenty paces from the tall, Gothic style fence and gate and fishes a then metal container from her back pocket. Normally demigods would never be out in the open at night, especially on a full moon when mystical mumbo-jumbo energies are at their strongest, but the Strife Mansion isn't just some ordinary abode.
Not only is it the personal home of a paranoid Queen of warrior women, it's also the home of an equally paranoid and even more psychotic son of Eris with a lot of money. Hidden repeating crossbow turrets that pop out of the ground, robot arms that throw ninja stars with deadly accuracy, pit falls and spike traps, she even heard rumors about a trained tiger that's waiting somewhere to jump out of the shadows!
She asked Hylla about it once and the Queen just smiled and walked away without a word. You're not helping, Hylla!
The Daughter of Hygiene opens the tin case and pulls out a hand rolled cigarette and lights the end. She takes a few good puffs and sighs happily. Damn, Samson really knows the good stuff! This Aphrodite Passion strain is great!
Ehem.
What the fuck was that? Sarah coughs wetly a few times and looks around. Her eyes land at the gate, and then at the numerous figures in dark behind it. Easily five dozen unidentifiable figures crowd around the gate and along the length of the fence facing the direct front of the mansion. The androgynous figures all wear dark cloaks that cover their bodies fully, leaving only the bottom of their faces visible to the faint light on the gates. The crowd is armed with an assortment of outdated weaponry. Swords, maces, flails, one handed crossbows, even one or two with Klingon Bat'leth's.
Sarah watches the crowd wide eyed with a mix of anticipation and just a touch of fear. Slowly she backs up, keeping a cautious eye on the ranged units as she tries to make her way back to the house without provoking a stampede.
Slowly the front-most robed weirdo approaches the gate and pushes it open. With just a touch of trepidation Sarah watches as the weirdo slowly and most definitely purposefully puts their foot down on the immediate Mansion property. Time comes to a crawl as a deep pit forms in Sarah's gut. Suddenly she feels hyper aware of everything happening around her. She can feel the tiny drop of sweat falling down the curve of her face, she can feel the wave of goosebumps rolling under her sleeves and especially, very especially she notices that none of the automatic defenses are activating to a very clear threat to the Mansion.
"Oh, fiddlesticks!"
Hylla's having a pretty good day, she has to say. Net profits are up for Amazon even if Bezos and his huge head give it a bad name. Recruitment for proper Amazons is up even more -another thing she can use to flex on Reyna, lovingly of course- and best of all, she doesn't get her cycle anymore! Her current... condition has seen to that, and she has to admit not having it anymore is probably the best gift the gods could've ever given to human women.
Too bad Daughters of Bellona don't naturally not have them, at least that would've been something they could've inherited from her mom. Seriously! Basically every other demigod has some cool powers or awesome special abilities. Athena kids are the closest but they get super smart and weaving as some sort of boon. All Hylla and Reyna get is fighting ability and a natural skill with basically any weapon. Cool enough, but Reyna's boy toy or whatever the two had could fucking fly and shoot lightning out of his ass.
Bullshit if you ask her, but the one thing she has to flex on all of them is she's fucking loaded. Let Percy and Annabeth scramble for scholarships, she can pay for it and every kid in New York State's tuition several times over before she would even notice the dip in her account.
Thud.
What the hell? Godsdammit if it's another Jehovah's Witness she's going to commit a heresy and murder them! She basically rips the door open with a snarl, barely able to mouth a single angry word before a blonde blur flies past her and slams into the floor.
"Sarah, the fuck are you doing?!" Her potty language hasn't gotten worse the longer she's around Samuel, "Is that... you have bolts stuck in your back!"
She doesn't respond to the statement of her injuries, Sarah instead flies back to her feet and slams the door shut with more might than Hylla thought the lanky bitch could produce. She stumbles slightly but catches herself in Hylla's arms, disturbing the queen with her sweaty, bloody and filth cover self.
"Q-H-Queen Hylla!" She shrieks, "Attack, we! We're attack!"
Hylla gives her a second, "We're under attack!"
The Amazon Queen walks Sarah over to a nearby chair and sets her down, shaking her head as Sarah continues mumbling other obscenities and dire warnings of impending death.
"You're fine," She chides, "You just triggered the defenses somehow, I'm sure. C'mon, let's get you to the medic. The bolts aren't too deep, but they're gonna hurt like shit yanking them out. Did you see the Tiger? That might explain the blood and other... things."
Sarah struggles against Hylla's hold, even with her Herculean might thanks to her belt Hylla struggles ever so faintly to keep the ironic daughter of Health still.
"You don't understand," She raves, "There's a hundred of them out there! Code Red, My Queen, Code Red!"
"SARAH!" Hylla roars, the Queen barely suppressing her urge to shake Sarah until she stops moving, "SHUT the hell up and go to the medic!"
Just then, a glass bottle smashes through the window, oily gasoline catching fire from a burning sheet of paper and spreading nicely across a large portion of the entry.
Slowly Hylla turns and looks outside of the nearest window. All across her lawn is rows and rows of figures in dark hoods and robes, each waiting patiently and neatly. One in the front row spots Hylla and waves cheerfully at her. Hylla draws the curtains closed in response.
She turns down and looks at Sarah pinched in her mighty grasp, "Sarah," she says evenly, "Go get the rest of your squad." Hylla drops her and the younger Amazon scrambles off hollering and screaming for her sisters-in-arms to ready for battle.
Hylla cracks her neck left and right and approaches a bust of some random Greek dude and lifts the head to reveal a hidden button inside. She slams her fist down on it, activating Samuel's emergency contingency. Quickly irons bars slam down on ever window and door in the house. Large steel beams slide up from the floor and brace the various doors around the house. Unfortunately the exterior defenses refuse to activate, but all the fire power she needs is already inside.
Behind the couch the wall slides down to reveal a full arsenal of various weapons and armor. Hylla dons a custom-fitted steel breast plate and grabs an over sized mace and shield. To top it off, she slides down a solid steel Roman style helmet and straps it in place.
"Okay, dead men," She says, face donning a toothy, violent smile, "Just fucking try it!"
Samuel is not having a good day right about now. The wackos he gets stuck with are a stupid brainwashed cult dedicated to Tartarus, the actual worst primordial you possibly could throw yourself to. After the 'introduction' Samuel was shoved out of the room and, quote, told to 'Apply your services to the greater good of out master!' which left him wandering around the horror house that is this underground base.
While not utterly massive, Samuel estimates no less than a hundred and fifty men and women down in the re-purposed mining facility. Wandering the halls Samuel made a mental account of the faculties and armaments the cult has available to them. With just a quick stroll and a few glances, Samuel can see this 'cult' is well set up and ready for a war.
Rows and rows of barracks filled with heavy looking, yet crudely constructed weapons mimicking various military styles across the world and time. He recognizes the sweeping helmets of the conquistadors, plates styled like German knights and arms just as varied.
"Is that... a Star Trek Bat'leth?"
What really sets Samuel's nerves off is a twofold combination of equally disturbing facts. One; it is silent. Completely quite except for the distant sounds of forging and smelting machinery. Not a single human or even monster voice sounds out through the winding, labyrinthine halls. Two; there are eyes everywhere. Not literally, of course, but the very stone walls beat with life. Now that he's not kidding. If one put their hands on the stone walls they'd feel a heat not unlike the radiant heat of human skin. Then on top of that is the pulsing, like beatings of a heart, one can feel touching the stone.
If didn't know he's touching stone Samuel would believe he's trapped inside of an actual living creature.
He stops by a railing overlooking a large, empty room with nearly a dozen cages dug into the walls surrounding the edges. All but two are empty, and in the ten unoccupied cages Samuel believes he can see faint piles of bones lying propped up against the bars. But in the other two, large, shadowy masses lie towards the back of their cages. He can't make anything specific out, but whatever they are are monsters of a kind he feels he's never seen before.
"Psst, Samuel!"
He jolts lightly, just a little surprised to hear his name whispered. Don;t look at him like that! This place is freaking spooky, alright?! Samuel looks around sees no one, which of course doesn't help his nerves feel any better.
"Up here!"
Samuel looks up and sees Samson looking at him through the slits in a vent up top. Silently he yanks the cover off and slides down onto the floor with Samuel. He'll never admit it, but seeing someone he knows is really nice right now.
"Dude," He says, looking exactly as you would expect from someone crawling through hundreds of feet of vents, "This place is fucked. Like seriously fucked!"
"Yeah no shit!" He hisses silently, "We need to get the fuck out of here! This place is literally alive, feel the walls!"
Samson touches the wall and quickly yanks it away, cradling the hand to his chest like it were a child. He looks at Samuel with wide eyes and mouth agape like a fish.
"See?!" Samuel says, relieved he's not the only one freaked right now, "We gotta get out of here! This place is worse than a haunted house!"
Ehem.
The Son of Athena sighs and runs a hand through his hair, "Fuck, dude we can't. Is there dynamite or something? Maybe we can collapse it or something?"
"Ugh, fine you're right! Don't those-" He points to the flowers growing on Samson's jacket, "-blow up or something?"
Ehem.
"They're like grenade, the concussion isn't enough to collapse reinforced structures even if they're underground!"
Ehem.
Samuel remembers the barracks and snaps his fingers, "They've got a pretty big arsenal down here. I'm sure they have proper explosives there!"
"We do," A voice says, making the Sam's skin crawl, "But you're not authorized to use them. Would you two follow us, please?"
Slowly the both of them look, facing down the skinny, weirdly sexual tour guide from Samuel's orientation and no less than twenty men in jumpsuits with crossbows aimed right at them.
"Oh, fiddlesticks..."
And that, kids, is how Samson and Samuel found themselves tied up, unarmed and hung over a giant vat filled with bright, molten metal. Looking at them from across the gap is rows and rows of uniformed men and women in jumpsuits and several people in giant, clunky armor with humongous weapons. Beyond them is an even bigger man with well crafted and decorated armor than covers ever inch of his body in thick plate armor. The metal still seems to burn like lit coal and sliding light like fire dances under the skin of the black metal. Clutched in his hands is a giant hammer shaped like some sort of bell that has to weigh no less than a thousand pounds at the very least.
The beast of the man seems content to sit back and watch their execution from far away. To Samuel he seems kinda... bored, like this isn't exciting to it like it seems to be for the fifty others.
The tiny tour guide emerges from the crowd, hand folded neatly in one another and faux, inhuman smile still welded to her face. The heat from the smelter is close to unbearable, Samuel thanks his coat given to him by his mother as the magic woven into it certainly is the only thing keeping his body from boiling inside out already. Samuel struggles against the bonds but stops when he sees the guide pull a simple looking dagger from behind her back and hold it against the rope holding the Sam's above the vat that is tied to the railing, securing them from falling into a motel death.
Samuel sighs and goes still, causing a big smile to grow larger on her face, "So wonderful of you two to come to us! Our brothers had set out to kill you, yet here you are now! Come to us instead! Well, no point in calling them off now. Killing the Queen is a large positive a too. Then one of our members can claim the throne and bring the Amazon's under out great Lord's control! Isn't that great?!"
The Son of Eris growls, gritting his teeth in anger, but he's not all too worried. If this chucklefucks want to try and kill Hylla then he wishes them good luck. The Queen of the Amazon's isn't just something you 'deal with'. This tiny chick here has no idea what lion she's just awoken!
"Hah!" He belows snidely, "Good luck, bitch! My house isn't some fancy boughie palace! I've got more defenses than you can count, and a fucking tiger! Did you fucks forget who you're fucking with?! Hylla isn't some Aphrodite bitch, she's the Queen of the Amazon's, and I'm her king! You're days are numbered, so just try it! See how quickly I kill you fucks! Just try and run, if I don't sniff you out then she will!"
Unfortunately, his attempt at intimidation went completely unconcerned by any in the crowd. They all just remain still and silent, as though Samuel's words didn't even reach their ears to begin with.
"Why, of course we know Queen Hylla is a threat! Why else would we have double agents stationed in the house ready to sabotage your impressive defenses? Surprise! By now our brave assassins are storming your palace as we speak, and without true backup she's as sure as dead! This really must be a gift from our lord, delivering both of our enemies to us without so much of a hiccup along the way!"
Her eyes turn sharp suddenly, cruel intent filling those eyes of the like Samuel and Samson have only seen a few times before.
The eyes of someone truly possessed by a lust for murder.
"Impressive speech," Samson says, doing his best to stall. It's clear to him this girl is the only one with personal thought. The rest are closer to empty drones, hollow humans doing what they're told with complete obedience.
"Yet you haven't dropped us in yet. You want something from us, don't you? Why else would you go through with the theatrics? It's a waste. A true killer has a reason for everything they do. Every cut made with clear intention, every murder made to make a statement. So what's yours, then?"
The psycho giggles happily and removes the knife from the rope, cradling it to her chest as she spins around like a young girl in a princess costume. Her demented giggles makes the Sam's feel like throwing up. This chick is fucking nuts!
"Start rocking!" Samuel nods and starts swinging his legs in tandem with Samson. The girl has her back to them, arms held wide out in some form of mockery of the gods as she continues her ravings at her hollow fellows.
"Why, I'm so glad you asked!" Samson and Samuel swing their legs more and more frantically, swinging them in increasingly greater arcs. The madwoman continues, "Our Lord loves a show! The better presented the sacrifice the greater his love for us grows! I live to please our lord, and once I die I will be reborn in his darkness and transformed into the greater being I deserve to be!"
The rope holding the Sam's groans as they rock. Looking down Samuel sees that their feet are just barely passing the lip of the vat of molten metal, "Keep going! We've almost made it!"
"So, to the greatest lord Tartarus, I offer you this sacrifice! Consume these unworthy souls, as is my honor your truest priestess!" With a shrill cry, she spins around and slashes the rope with her dagger, cutting it clean through.
Samson and Samuel scream as the rope loses tension and drops them straight down into the molten metal below. The last thing either sees is the toothy, inhuman smile of a demented woman obsessed with something so far beyond her. Her laugh of victory echoes far into the living halls of the foundry, and resonating with them the walls seem to laugh with her.
Tartarus, it seems, is pleased with his next sacrifice.
