Hey guys.
Happy Fourth of July, everyone, if you celebrate it. Though I guess this year it isn't very celebratory, what with the...world events going on.
On a similar note, what the heck is wrong with people? Fireworks have been going off in my neighborhood for like three hours. It's loud, it's disruptive. It sounds more like bombs than fireworks. You can't even see much of the light show. My ears are still ringing. I know this has been a crappy year, but this does not mean they can compensate by trying to blow out everyone's eardrums!
Think of the dogs! Think of the people with PTSD. For that matter, think of people other than themselves.
Okay, rant over.
Back to the story.
Warnings: Character death. One use of the precision F-strike, and generally being very, very dark.
Enjoy and leave a review!
Blurred.
On his last day on Earth, Orion wasn't in the clearest state of mind.
In hindsight, it had been difficult to spot which part was the insanity curse and which part was him. Then again, that was probably the whole point. If he had noticed that he was going mad, surely that would mean that he was sane enough to recognize insanity in himself.
No. The curse had crept up slowly.
He started out the day as he usually did those days, venturing into the forest until he was a few hours away from the Hunters' main camp, hunting lions, bears, monsters, whatever it was that posed the most danger to mortals.
By late morning, he had a trail of bodies left in his wake.
That wasn't a problem, per se. He was a Hunter: that was his job. But between the adrenaline rush, the insanity spell, and the sheer feeling of power killing things gave him, it became addicting.
He took it out on a deer next. The animal went down with a cry.
It was quick. It was easy. It was fun.
Why didn't he do this earlier?
He took down the baby deer next to it.
He had a brief flash of regret-a reaction he had gained from spending years with the Hunters, perhaps, or the last remnants of his own diminishing sanity-but that quickly dissolved as he took in the dying family. The look of fear in their eyes. It wasn't too late to save them, he knew. Their survival completely depended on how he chose to act.
It sent a strangely exhilarating feeling down his spine, having that much control over someone else's life.
Normally, he would have been horrified. Distantly, he knew that. But why? Because he had rules that he was currently breaking? Because he was "good"? Because he had morals? Because he was going against things the Hunters stood for?
It was a way to control him! He laughed. Stupid, dense him. Too dull to question. Too dumb to see the truth. The rest of the Hunters are too stupid to see it like he had been.
Well, he knew better now.
He left the deer to suffer a slow, painful death.
His next target was a rabbit.
He watched as it drew its last breath. Stupid romantic inclinations. He wouldn't be used that way! He refused to be a point of entertainment.
After that, things blended together. Sometimes, it was a wombat, sometimes, it was a squirrel. Sometimes, he gave them a chance to flee just so he could hunt them down later.
They were all so very, very easy to take down. He was practically steamrolling them! Weak, pathetic animals. They're so much better targets than lions or snakes. All one had to do was aim! They didn't even try to fight back. Seriously, they were practically asking for it!
Years later, he would blame the entire incident on Apollo. It was certainly easier. But was it? He had seen mortals commit atrocities on each other in the name of whatever trivial thing they thought was the most worthy of attention. He had seen armies pillage cities. He had seen what they did to the civilians. In less than a decade, Helen of Sparta would be kidnapped by a Trojan prince. In less than a decade, war would break out. In less than fifty years the city of Troy would be sacked. Sons would be killed in front of their fathers. Then the fathers would be murdered themselves. Women would be taken and sold into slavery. Infants would be thrown off the city walls.
Could all that be chalked up to an insanity spell? It seemed awfully irresponsible.
And, he would later wonder in his deepest thoughts. If mortals could do that to their own species without one, could a giant be compelled to Hunt down all the forest critters in the world?
But in the end, he supposed that it didn't matter if it was the spell or him simply snapping that pushed him over the edge. It was probably a mixture of both. The massacre continued nonetheless.
He wasn't sure how long his rampage lasted. All he knew was that it ended abruptly.
One moment, he was taking aim at the next wombat in a long, long line. The next moment, he had the stinger of a scorpion pierced through his chest.
It broke through whatever state of mind he was in.
He gasped, trying to get his lungs to work. A horrible wheezing sound came out instead.
He managed to turn around, meeting the dark, beady eyes of the giant arachnid, stinger poised for another strike.
He grabbed at his wounded chest, waiting for the venom to run its course.
Why was his vision getting worse?
Why wasn't he healing?
It's time you stopped your silly little rampage, said a voice in his head.
Gaea.
His mother.
The Earth goddess hadn't forgotten him after all.
He fell to one knee.
You know that a giant couldn't be killed by a god or demigod. Most people took that to mean that they could only be killed by both of them working together. His mother's voice whispered in his ear. That's the easiest way, yes. But it does not mean that. This will be our little secret.
It was getting increasingly hard to breathe.
What was that lovely mortal expression? "I brought you into this world, I can take you right out?" Well, I hope you've seen enough of this world, my wayward son. You will not be seeing it for a while.
"You," he managed to wheeze out. "F-"
Was it worth it? Rejecting your destiny? Being rejected in turn by that goddess you're so infatuated with?
"F-fuck you." Not the most eloquent insult he'd ever given, but he could be forgiven for that.
He fell backwards. Regrettably, it gave him an excellent view of the carcasses he had slaughtered.
Gaea acted like he hadn't spoken. I'll let you think about that. I'm doing this for your own good, you know. Say hello to your father for me, will you?
The next thing he knew, the scorpion lay dead on the ground, its stinger having been cut off and head having been decapitated.
The last thing he saw were the wide, horrified eyes of the goddess Artemis.
Um, yeah.
Orion's dead, guys.
I have to say, I've never written someone going insane before. How did you think I handled it? For my part, I just thought of all the horrible things that's going on right now and let my thoughts lead the way.
It was surprisingly easy. Or maybe it was just my deteriorating mental state. That much time being quarantined with no one except your family couldn't be healthy.
Anyway, I tried my hand at symbolism and parallelism. Try to spot all the instances.
I mentioned Theseus kidnapping Helen when she was twelve. Since this was supposed to be pre-Trojan War and that had already happened, I figured that they'd have less than a decade before the Trojan War started.
So, we have one more chapter to go before the end of part two. The last chapter was probably just gonna tie everything up. I'm still debating whether I should write a part three. I'd probably do it, to be honest. I have ideas and everything. But it's all very open ended.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed.
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