TW: abuse, violence, torture, mentions of rape.
If any of the above is triggering for you, please do not read. This chapter is not essential to the plot at all and you won't be missing anything to skip this chapter. You will be able to continue with the next chapter with no problem if you skip this chapter.
If this doesn't bother you, than please enjoy.
She shuts the door with her foot, dropping her bag onto the table. "Hermes?" There's no answer, but she doesn't expect one. He hadn't been there when she'd woken up, and so she had guessed he'd been called away. She goes to her phone and hits the blinking red button. The messages begin to play as she walks into the kitchen.
She stares at the contents of the fridge, listening absently as Marley chatters about dinner, Poppy asks her about a project, and Dr. Nakamura reminds her about her next appointment. Finding no foods appealing, she closes the door and goes into the living room to delete the messages. She drops a stack of bills and bends down to pick them up. When she straightens, she is slammed against the wall and stars burst in her head. Two large hands hold her arms at eye-level and a warm body presses against her own.
When the stars clear enough for her to remember how to breathe, she sucks in a breath, preparing to scream, but one of the hands drops her arms and covers her mouth roughly. "Ah ah ah," says a smooth voice, "no screaming. We don't want to ruin the game, now do we?"
She tries to see who her assailant is, but the living room is too dim for anything more than a shadowy outline. She doesn't recognize the voice, though.
"Miss Lucy, I've been waiting rather impatiently for you. You took quite a while to get back."
The body pressing her uncomfortably against the wall is starting to make her claustrophobic, and she squirms against him. He laughs.
"You think your weak mortal body even has a chance against mine?" She stills, looking up at him in fear. He smiles and she can see his wicked grin even in the darkness. "Oh yes, my sweet, I am a god." She writhes against him, her cries for Hermes muffled behind the unknown god's hand. It tightens painfully around her jaw. "I may not be in any danger of being overpowered by you, sweet, but your protests are still annoying. Please keep them at a minimum and this might be slightly less unpleasant for you."
She quiets and his grip loosens. Tears fill her eyes at the ache in her jaw.
"Now what's going to happen is you're going to listen very carefully. Understand?" She nods timidly. "Good. You are going to tell me where your photos of Hermes are." Her eyes widen. "I know you have them. Where are they?" She shakes her head, crying out again when the god leans in, his mouth brushing against her cheek. "You'll tell me, Lucy, or I'll make this very unpleasant for you. And it will be all too enjoyable for me." He turns to press his lips to the corner of her mouth and she shudders, going cold. "So let me ask you again. Where are the pictures?"
This time her hesitation is longer, but she shakes her head again and he growls. He pushes her hands roughly up the wall, gathering both above her head in one hand and moving the other away from her mouth. She gets one full lungful of air before he shoves a cloth into her mouth. She gags and knocks her head against the wall again, sending another round of stars over her vision. She blinks the stars away and feels his hand against her throat.
"Tell me where they are," he murmurs, his thumb stroking her neck. He doesn't tighten his grip but he doesn't need to; her terror constricts her airway by itself. "Tell me," he growls.
It takes all of her resolve to shake her head again. She expects him to choke her but his hand moves down over her chest and that scares her even more. His fingers curl around the opening to her shirt and she tenses. "Tell me," he breathes. She is trembling as she shakes her head, and he drags his hand sharply down, ripping her shirt. She cries out behind the gag, the tears overflowing and falling down her cheeks. His hand is unnaturally cold as it caresses her waist. "I can see why he likes you so much," the god chuckles. He leans in and she twists her head to the side, trying to avoid his mouth. He angrily yanks her face back to his. "This could be so much less painful for you if you'd tell me where the pictures are."
It is the hardest thing in the world for her to shake her head again and she screams through the gag when his hand trails down to the waistband of her jeans.
"You've got one last chance to tell me willingly before I force it out of you."
A sick, stark terror clouding her mind, she nods desperately.
He smiles. "I knew you'd see the light. I'm going to take the gag out of your mouth and you will tell me, quietly, where the pictures are. If you try anything else," his fingers tug on the button of her jeans and she stiffens, "I will punish you. Understand?"
She nods again, guilt climbing. He pulls the cloth out and she gasps, "Under my bed." He shoves the gag back and she chokes.
His hand encircles her waist and he drags her into the room with him, tossing her onto the bed while he digs under it. Before she can even move, he's out again with a handful of film cases. "These are it?" his voice rises with anger. She nods fearfully. "They're not even developed!" He leans across the bed and slaps her hard. She tumbles over, the gag falling out of her mouth upon impact with the mattress.
"I promised I wouldn't," she wheezes, "that's the only way he'd let me take them."
The god's eyes flashing with anger, he grabs her by her hair and yanks her to a kneeling position on the edge of the bed. She cries out. "This is just more work for me to do, Lucy. I'm not happy." He lets go of her hair and pushes her back roughly by her stomach. She crumples onto her side and he straddles her hips. Terror seizes her and she starts to struggle.
"No, please, no, I'm sorry," she sobs, "please don't, no!"
His hand grabs her throat and he bends down to whisper in her ear. "Oh, I'm not going to do that, sweet, not yet. I just need you to go to sleep so my son can get you where we want." Then his grip tightens and her world swims before going black.
She's groggily blinking awake when a sharp pain burns her face and her head jerks to the side, banging against something solid with a painful thud. She cries out and fights to open her eyes. A new god is standing in front of her, staring.
"She's awake, Father!" he calls over his shoulder and the first god appears. She cringes back and whatever her wrists are connected to rattles noisily. She looks up at the gold chains holding her arms at eye-level against the stone wall. Then someone grabs her jaw and yanks it back and she looks into the eyes of the first god.
"It's about time you woke up. My son needs something from you." He steps back and allows the second god to step forward. She looks pleadingly at him but he is no more sympathetic than his father.
His fingers thread through her hair and she winces at her sore scalp. Then freezing coldness seeps into her brain and she shrieks. Her thrashing doesn't deter the god; his expression is stony as her screams echo through the room. He permits himself a small grin when he finally takes his hands away from her head and she slumps in her chains, the ache in her shoulders incomparable to the one in her head.
The second god disappears and leaves her with the first, and she's not sure which one she's more afraid of now. When the god reclines on the large stone in the middle of the room and starts to toss a shiny knife, she decides that it's this one.
He glances at her idly. "The waiting is always the most boring part, don't you think? How about we make it more interesting. Let's play a game." Her eyes widen in alarm. "You must be getting tired of that gag. So I'll take it out and we can talk. I'll ask you a question and if I like the answer, I'll heal one of your injuries. That sounds nice, doesn't it?" She waits warily for the rest. "And if I don't, I get to make a new one. Sound fun?" She shakes her head rapidly, so quickly that the stars reappear. "Too bad, we're playing anyway. First question." He stands and goes to her, reaching out and ripping off her gag. "What does Hermes see in you?"
"I-I don't know."
His eyes are flat. "Wrong answer." He slaps her and her head bangs against the wall. She winces but bites back her cry of pain. "Next question. What does he love most about you?"
She thinks desperately about what would placate him. "H-he thinks I'm forgiving."
The god's eyes gleam. "Good answer." He lays a hand on her cheek and she flinches, but can't repress a sigh when some of the stinging goes away. "What can you do to break his heart?"
Her eyes widen and she shakes her head, "No, no I can't—" Her protest cuts off as he takes his knife and presses it against her abdomen.
"Answer the question, Lucy."
"I-I don't kn—ah!" Tears fill her eyes as a thin line of pain sears into her stomach. He pulls the knife away, examining the blood staining its edge. "I really don't—" She winces and wriggles away from the knife, which has just cut a twin along her waist. He holds the knife in front of her face.
"The next goes lower."
She gasps in panic. "Be—not me, I don't kn—pretend I lied!" She cringes away but the next slice of pain doesn't come. The god is staring contemplatively at her.
"Pretend you lied…hm…interesting." He traces the knife lightly around the hollow of her throat. "What kind of 'lies' would they be?"
She is afraid to breathe for fear of the knife puncturing her skin. "I d-don't—know but h-he gets sad wh-when he thinks I-I don't want h-him."
The god's eyes gleam, so she doesn't expect when his knife flashes down and pain rips into her legs. He tosses the knife and it lands with a clatter in the opposite corner of the room. His fingers dig into her thighs and she cries out, feeling her jeans tearing. "Remember when I said the rules of the game?" She nods, biting back tears. "Well they're gone."
He steps back and she shrieks when a whip bites into her skin. She doesn't know what she did, why he's so angry with her, but he doesn't stop, doesn't let up and her voice goes hoarse screaming at the excruciating lashing. When the whip finally falls for the last time, she slumps in her chains, unable even to sob at the agony wracking her body. He steps forward and she doesn't even have the energy to cringe away. But before he can do anything, the second god is back and he turns away from her.
"Well?"
The second god glances at her with little interest. "It's done. Just a matter of time now."
"Good." The first god's words send a flash of pride across his son's face. "Now you watch the girl. I've got to go talk to the others."
The second god nods. He sits, propping his legs up on the rectangular rock in the middle of the room. Lucy watches him warily but he does nothing to her. The room is silent and she closes her eyes.
"You can't sleep, you know." She looks up with a start, then winces at the pain that flares when she moves. He is scrutinizing her. "Do you know where you are?" She shakes her head slowly. "You're inside your mind. It's a bit like a prolonged dream except you can't wake up because I've trapped you here. So there's no sleeping. You're going to be conscious the entire time."
She is hesitant to ask a question, afraid he'll punish her like the other did. But—excepting that pain in her head—he hasn't hurt her, so she forces herself to ask, "H-how long will it be?" She flinches back instinctively, waiting for the pain, but none comes.
"I don't know," the god says. "Depends."
"O-on what?"
"On what happens outside." He doesn't seem inclined to say anything else on the subject. "Lucy, may I ask you a question?" She shrinks against the wall, shaking her head. He sighs wearily. "I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to know." She pauses, blinking at him. "What does Hermes see in you?"
"I don't know, I'm sorry, I don't—"
"Yeah, yeah, you don't know. Got it." He leans back, twirling a gold chain around his finger. "I don't get it, though. I mean, not only are you mortal, but you're a particularly weak mortal. You're tiny and feeble and scared of seemingly everything. No offense." She frowns. "I just don't see the appeal. You're pretty enough, I guess, but there are plenty prettier goddesses, and they aren't so fragile."
"I get it," she says sourly, her irritation overcoming her fear for the moment. "I don't deserve him, I get it."
He laughs. "Braver when my father's not here, aren't you?" She flinches, waiting for the pain that doesn't start. When she peeks at him again, he's leaning forward, watching her with interest. "You're very easily trained, aren't you?" She frowns, disgruntled, and he laughs again. "This is fun." She shuffles, the chains rattling as she turns away from him. He jumps up lightly and goes to her, taking her chin in his hand and pulling it to look him in the eye. She winces as her jaw protests. "The thing is, Lucy, you're under my control. And I'd really prefer not to be ignored. I don't mind a little fun when I'm talking to you, but I don't like being given the silent treatment. Got it?" He lets go of her chin enough for her to nod fearfully. He smiles and sits back down, this time closer. "Good. Now I'd like to know how—"
The other god appears, cutting off his son's sentence. The first god looks annoyed and Lucy cringes back. He glances at her briefly before turning his attention to his son. "Time for the next stage."
The second god nods and looks at her apologetically. His fingers thread through her hair again and she cries out in pain as the sharp cold seeps into her brain. She tries to pull away but his grip tightens and he keeps her firmly in place. He fades away and so does the cold, and she's left with the first god. He glares at her.
"That I had to develop your pictures set me back, Lucy." The whip materializes in his hand again and she jerks back in terror, her chains clanking against the wall. He takes a large step forward and swiftly wraps the whip around her neck, pulling it tight against the skin. She freezes, her heart thumping wildly. He leans down, moving his mouth to her ear. "I can't kill you because I need you for later. But I can make you wish you were dead." Then he yanks the whip up and her head is forced up and back. He keeps pulling up and she stands on her tiptoes, trying to ease the pressure on her throat. "I know what you're most scared of, Miss Lucy." While one hand still holds the whip up, the other creeps down her waist and she gasps, tensing. "Interesting, that you would be so close to a god and be afraid of physical contact."
"He's not like that," she forces out, her voice trembling.
He laughs. "They're all like that. It's in their blood.
"A-aren't you a god?"
He grins, and the grin sends a shudder of fear through her. "Oh yes." His fingers pop the button on her jeans and she jerks away.
"Please don't, please," she begs, trying to escape his hand. He drops the whip to grab her shoulder and shove it against the wall. His fingers run along the loosened waistband of her jeans and she squirms. "Please," tears start to fall, "please don't, no, please…"
"What would you do for me to stop this?"
"I-I'll tell you anything, anything, please just don't do this, please…" She hates herself as she says it but nothing could be worse than this.
"What makes you think you know anything that I don't?"
His fingers dip under her waistband and she cries out. "I don't know, but please, anything, don't—please!"
He nudges her legs apart with one of his knees and she sobs. His fingers curl around her belt loops, ready to yank them down, when the second god appears again. She sees him and desperately screams, "Please help me, please!"
The first god pauses and looks over his shoulder. He laughs. "You really think he's going to save you? Are you stupid?"
The second god watches them without interest. "Father, is that really necessary right now?"
The god pressing his weight against Lucy scowls suspiciously at his son. "Why do you care?"
"I need to start strengthening the block around her mind and if she's in distress it'll be harder; you know that."
The first god glances back at Lucy, studying her intently. She shrinks back against the wall. He leans in, his mouth brushing against hers and she shudders. "Perhaps next time, sweet," he murmurs before pulling away. "Don't get too soft now, son," he reminds the second god, and whirls around and disappears.
Lucy trembles in a mixture of revulsion and relief. "Thank you," she gasps out. "Thank you."
He waves dismissively, sitting down and taking out the chains again. "I didn't do it to save you."
"W-why is the other one so…why does he like to…"
"To torture you?" She nods. "He likes seeing the fear on your face. He likes that you're something of Hermes' that he left so vulnerable."
"Why does he hate Hermes so much?"
"He doesn't, not really. He probably likes Hermes the most out of all the Olympians. But Hermes is always so careful about everything of his and for him to leave you—something he cares about so much—so defenseless, Hy-my father is getting a lot of enjoyment out of playing with you." He sits up curiously. "Do you regret it?"
"What?"
"Being with Hermes. If you had turned him down, you wouldn't be in this mess right now. Do you regret it?"
She looks down, wishing she could move her hands so she could rebutton her jeans. "No," she says softly.
"Not at all?"
"No."
Instead of asking something else, the god jumps up, his seat clattering behind him. "Wow, that was fast." He holds up his hands. "Oh man, he's strong." His face screws up in concentration for a long moment before smoothing out again. "He gave up pretty quickly though. Hm." He stands with his hands out for a moment longer, looking warily around the cave, but then sits slowly. He looks back at Lucy, who's staring at him in confusion. "I would tell you but," he shrugs, "not supposed to." She nods resignedly, looking down again.
Thereafter follows a period of silence, where the god toys with the chains he's holding and Lucy stares at her feet and tries to forget everything.
Then the first god appears suddenly, running into the cave looking harried. Lucy cringes back but he ignores her completely.
"He's going to try again and this time you have to let him in." The second god nods and stands, disappearing the chair.
The first god approaches Lucy, whose chains clank as she tries to avoid him, but he grabs her roughly. "You're going to shut up and not make any trouble, got it?" He wraps a gag around her mouth and secures it tightly. She tries to protest and he pulls it tighter. "Shut up, I said." Then he presses himself against the wall opposite to hers and drags his son next to him.
Lucy lets her head fall so she's looking at her feet again, trying to ignore the uncomfortably tight gag.
Then there's a thud and a sharp gasp and she looks up quickly. What she sees terrifies her. Hermes is standing in front of her, his face a mask of alarm.
"No!" she shouts behind her gag desperately, "go back, go back, Hermes!"
But he doesn't understand her, stepping forward instead. Her eyes go to the two gods that he is unaware of. The first comes up behind him with a club and cracks it against his skull and Hermes falls. She stares at the lifeless god in horror; she didn't even know gods could lose consciousness. Her eyes flicker up to the first god, who lifts Hermes onto the stone platform in the middle of the room. The second steps closer and produces his chains and together they chain Hermes to the rock. Only when they're done does the first god look up, grinning at Lucy.
"Seems we have company."
Then he and his son disappear and Lucy starts to cry, her eyes fixed on Hermes. It's hopeless now. Completely hopeless.
So this was me trying present tense. I did it a lot for a roleplay and I wanted to test it in prose. How horrible was it?