There Will Be Blood

By evolution-500

Genre: Horror/Tragedy

Disclaimer: The following is an original story based around Greek mythology. I own this story.

WARNING: This story contains violence, coarse language and disturbing imager. Reader discretion is advised.

"The keenest sorrow is to recognize ourselves as the sole cause of all our adversities."

- Sophocles

Minoan Period

The sun cast its dying rays over the looming form of Areopagus Hill as a young man wearing a loin cloth approached at its foot, carrying an older man on his shoulders.

Catching his breath, Aranare lowered his father carefully to the ground, brushing his long black hair out of his weary and youthful face, panting heavily under the intense Mediterranean heat.

"Have we arrived at the shrine?" his father questioned, his tone impatient, his dark beard hanging off his drooping face.

"Yes, father," Aranare nodded, his bronze skin slick with sweat, his bare feet blistered and sore from walking countless miles. "We have made it."

"At last," the old man sighed. "Now then, take me to the shrine, boy. Go on, what are ye waiting for?!" He struck the younger man at the back of his head, making the latter flinch. "Get up, get up! What, do you expect your father to do all the work?!

"My apologies, father," Aranare flinched under his father's abuse.

Swallowing, the youth nervously looked to his destination and shivered, not from the cool breeze that caressed his form, but in fear, eying the cave shrine before him at the foot of Areopagus Hill.

Greeting the pair was a sparse open strip of land largely clear of vegetation and trees, the ground rocky with irregular outcropping of limestone, the grass so thin and yellow they looked dead.

"OW!" Aranare cried out as he felt his father hit across the head.

"Get your head out of the clouds, boy!" The old man chided. "By Zeus, you are such a troublesome welp. I could have just abandoned you to the gods when you were a babe, but I didn't! If it weren't for me being weak, I would hit you harder - perhaps then that would have knocked some sense into you, boy! Go on, get off your useless ass, we don't have all day! The Sisters won't wake themselves! We need to begin as soon as possible."

"Y-Yes, father," Aranare whimpered as he carefully hauled his father to the shrine.

Once the pair moved closer, the latter gestured for him to hold.

"Alright, that's close enough, boy. Set me down."

Aranare complied, lowering the old man against a section of wall.

"Thank you, my son," the latter panted. "Now, begin the incantation."

Swallowing, the youth turned back to the cave, his skin sweaty and pale.

Then, with a loud and clear voice, he began.

"Vociferous Bacchanalian Erinyes, hear!

Ye, I invoke, dread pow'rs, whom all revere;

Nightly, profound, in secret who retire,

Tisiphone, Alecto, and Megara dire:

Deep in a cavern merg'd, involv'd in night,

Near where Styx flows impervious to the sight;

Ever attendant on mysterious rites,

Furious and fierce, whom Fate's dread law delights;

Revenge and sorrows dire to you belong,

Hid in a savage veil, severe and strong,

Terrific virgins, who forever dwell

Endu'd with various forms, in deepest hell;

Aerial, and unseen by human kind,

And swiftly coursing, rapid as the mind.

In vain the Sun with wing'd refulgence bright,

In vain the Moon, far darting milder light,

Wisdom and Virtue may attempt in vain;

And pleasing, Art, our transport to obtain

Unless with these you readily conspire,

And far avert your all-destructive ire.

The boundless tribes of mortals you descry,

And justly rule with Dike's impartial eye.

Come, snaky-hair'd, Moirai many-form'd, divine, suppress your rage, and to our rites incline."

The shrine was still as Aranare's voice echoed, the air becoming colder, the sun dimming beneath passing clouds.

"Keep going, boy," his father encouraged. "Finish the incantation."

Trembling furiously, sweat and terrified tears fell as Aranare struggled to speak, only to let out a weak, pitiful groan.

"I...I can't," Aranare sobbed. "Father please!"

"Do it, boy!" The old man snapped. "Finish the incantation or by the gods I'll strike you!"

Swallowing, Aranare wiped his eyes with the back of his arm, then continued.

"Hear me, illustrious Eumenides, mighty nam'd,

Terrific pow'rs, for prudent counsel fam'd;

Holy and pure, from Zeus Khthonios, Hades born

And Proserpine, whom lovely locks adorn:

Whose piercing sight, with vision unconfin'd,

Surveys the deeds of all the impious kind:

On Fate attendant, punishing the race

With wrath severe of deeds unjust and base.

Dark-colour'd queens, whose glittering eyes, are bright

With dreadful, radiant, life-destroying, light:

Eternal rulers, terrible and strong,

To whom revenge, and tortures dire belong;

Fatal and horrid to the human sight,

With snaky tresses wand'ring in the night;

Either approach, and in these rites rejoice,

For ye, I call, with holy, suppliant voice."

As the last of the incantation was uttered, the sun dimmed, then fell, leaving nothing but darkness.

For several, terrible long moments, all was still, leaving the pair guarded and uncertain, watching as dark clouds formed overhead, the breeze picking up slightly, causing nearby plants, leaves and bushes to rustle and waver.

Staring at the shine, Aranare panted as he stiffly waited, his heart thumping loudly in his ears when something wet fell on his forehead.

Startled, the youth touched the substance and looked down at his fingers, then suddenly felt another drop, this one colder, followed by another, then another, each one colder than the last.

Raindrops pelted the pair, growing in volume before cascading down, soaking their hair clothes as thunder cracked, startling Aranare as he looked up in panic, watching the sky flicker.

Lightning flashed across the skies, accompanied a roaring thunder, illuminating the shrine with an eerie blueish light with each flash before striking the ground before them, the downpour growing harsher and stronger.

Shivering before the shrine, Aranare whimpered, listening to the wind as it howled in his ears and nipped at his skin, feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if he were in the presence of something much larger, something much greater than him.

The rain trickled and blew all around, blotting out his vision as he struggled against it, raising up his arm to block the water from his eyes.

Looking to his father, Aranare called out, "We should leave, father! We must find shelter!"

"No, boy!" His father called back. "Don't you see?! The gods are testing our resolve! This shrine is what protects us from the Sisters' wrath, and I am not leaving until I have had an audience with them!"

The winds' inhuman howls echoed all around them, sending everything disarray.

Before him, Aranare watched as darkness blanketed everything around him and his father, but through the flashes of lightning and through the hale, he witnessed something horrible.

It had first started with a sound - a loud, rhythmic, high-pitched whine that cut through the rain and wind, a relentless buzzing or clicking like millions of cicadas.

From the earth, three large mounds arose before him and his father, spilling out hundreds of lashing, twisting serpents, causing Aranare to step back in fright, watching with wide frightened eyes as they emerged in full.

Three terrible shapes rose before Aranare, their forms dark, tall, and imposing, far taller than any human.

Three hideous beings of enormous size, all of them nude, made from layers upon layers upon layers of fresh mud and hundreds of writhing and hissing snakes, each of their visages hateful yet distinct.

None of the beings possessed legs, as far as he could tell; instead, three torsos protruded from large skirt-like mounds of mud, their filthy forms writhing with hundreds upon hundreds of snakes.

One being was bulky and hunched over with a wide frame, the largest and most monstrous-looking of the three, with drooping breasts and freakish long arms, its hands huge with long sharp claws on its fingers. On its back were two spike-like protrusions, reminding Aranare of the branches of a tree.

The creature's face, however, was horrible to look at; along with having no nose whatsoever; from the cheekbones down, there was a gaping, hingeless serpentine maw filled with razor-sharp teeth where a human face should, its jaw hanging far lower than it should.

Its eyes were glowing and fearsome-looking, yellow and slitted like the eyes of a snake, while on the top of its grotesque head was a long mud-covered mop of hair that drooped down the sides.

The second being had greyish brown mud-slicked skin with drooping breasts and an angry hag-like face with a wrinkled clenched mouth, looking perpetually angry, while on the top of its were a series of flailing tendrils or snakes, its arms long and disjointed.

From these grotesquely boneless arms were a pair of its oversized "hands", although in truth the word a better way to describe them were as twisted mouths with teeth on the digits used as makeshift hands and fingers.

The third was paler and headless, but from its muddy snake-infested ribcage, a decapitating female head with shriveled, withered and wrinkled skin emerged, its eyes pale and oozing black ichor. Letting out a sharp gasp, the disembodied head rolled its eyes open as various serpents dug their way into its neck, causing some of them to spill out from the neck and awkwardly-moving mandible.

For several moments, the air was still, leaving Aranare frightened as he and his father found themselves before these abominations.

Finally, a loathsome, mud-filled voice spoke, low, thick and slimy, from one of the larger beings.

"Whoooooo caaaaaaallsssssss upooooooon ussssssssssss?"

"I have, Great Sisters!" Aranare called out, drawing their attention. As the Erinyes turned their attention to him, he swallowed. "I am Aranare, son of Turunuseme and Siramaritai. It was I who have awakened you from your ancient slumber."

Aranare watched as the three creatures drew closer toward him, regarding him with curious appraising eyes.

"For what purpose then, son of Turunuseme, do you seek an audience with us?" The pale of the three questioned, the voice surprisingly clear.

Aranare then gestured to his father. "It is my father that does, Great Sisters. He was too weak to summon you, but please, Great Erinyes, hear his words, if you may."

The sisters cast their gazes over to the old man.

"Very well then," the pale one replied. "Now, what is your purpose for summoning us?"

Aranare watched his father sat up.

"Great Sisters," he began, "I am Turunuseme. I am but a humble farmer, like my father before me and his father before him. For five generations, our family had enjoyed great prestige, health and harvest." His mouth then clenched in anger. "However, for the past three years, things have fallen in disarray. My crop yield has been declining along with my good fortune, while those of my neighbor, Jadikira, have not."

"And why should that concern us, human?"

"He has put a curse on my family and on harvests, I tell you!" Turunuseme insisted. "I have lost three infant daughters to disease thanks to him, and my second son, Arudara, had passed away just last year."

"Unfortunate, but again, I see no reason for our involvement."

"Jadikira has cursed our land and our family. I know it was him - his father had always resented mine! Jadikira had always jealous of our success. It was he who has made me sick, he who has made part of my face slump this way! It was he who has caused the death of my beautiful daughters and son! It was he he who has caused the death of my wife, Kitane!"

The serpentine beings regarded him, saying nothing for a time, their gazes cold and unsympathetic to his pleas.

Uselessly worked his mouth, Turunuseme exhaled, slumping in his seat. "Great Sisters, please! I beg you, please! Help me!"

"Why should we?" The pale one retorted. "You have yet to give us a reason to believe that your neighbor was at fault. Why should we intervene? What make him worthy of our attentions?"

"Because justice demands it!" Turunuseme exclaimed. "Our families have been rivals for ages. I know for a fact that Jadikira's father and his father before him have called upon you to take revenge against my family, but is our family not deserving of justice?!" His words did nothing to sway nor move the three terrible beings. Exhaling, he wiped the rain from out of his eyes. "It was last year during my inspection of the crops that I had fallen ill. All my life, I have been a strong and hardworking man, and not once, not even when I was a babe, had I ever fallen ill. I had always paid my respect to the gods, unlike that snake Jadikira. Jadikira blasphemed the gods many times, openly, and yet I am the one who is punished? The day before I fell ill, Jadikira had cursed me following an argument that I had with him, and shortly after was when the illness came. I had lost all ability of speech for a time, and both Kitane and Aranare had to look after me until I was able to recover. But one day, Kitane had tripped on a log that Jadikira had irresponsibly left on the ground near our home. The fall had broken her neck, killing her in the process."

He looked beseechingly at the three terrible beings as he pleaded, "Great Sisters, please! I am but a humble man who has nothing left to his name. Hear my cries for justice and retribution! I want justice for my wife and children! I demand that your ancient rites be invoked so that my family and I will be avenged, and I willingly offer you my son as my sacrifice."

Aranare stiffened and shook as the terrible visages of the three beings turned in his direction, their cold gazes studying his, as if weighing his worth.

Swallowing, Aranare spoke, bowing his head. "Out...Out of love and loyalty to my father do I voluntarily offer myself to you, Great Sisters. For my father's sake, please, accept me as your willing sacrifice."

Rain and wind pelted their smaller forms as they waited in anticipation of the chthonic beings' answer, their dark forms still and silent save for the squelching of mud as their serpent-riddled bodies writhed and twisted, constantly rippling with movement.

Finally, the pale one spoke, its tone firm, meaningful, and decisive. "Your sacrifice is accepted."

Aranare barely had time to react as the three goddesses suddenly fell upon him and his father like a crashing wave, submerging the two under a river of mud and snakes .

Struggling blindly through the mud, Aranare clawed his way to the surface as he felt the stinging sharp bites of snakes strike every part of his body, the young man coughing and screaming in a mixture of terror and anguish.

Pleading for mercy and help, Aranare struggled to breathe and keep himself afloat, shakily reaching in desperation out to the sky as he gave one, last, horrible shriek before feeling himself violently pulled down, his screams replaced with a loud gurgling.

The mud bubbled and frothed with Aranare's last breath before finally stilling, leaving no trace of either him nor his father behind.

As the wind gave a low whine like an old dying animal, the Erinyes emerged from the earth once more, their twisted and writhing forms looming over the shrine, their contours standing out amidst the flickering of lightning as it highlighted their grotesque shapes.

"Such hubris," the hunched-over figure sneered with contempt.

"Indeed," the pale one replied. "A common failing of many a mortal, and Turunuseme had been no different. And yet, we will honor our oaths regardless." She then held out an arm. "Come, sisters - the night calls once more. Let us remind those who perjure and commit crimes against the natural order what happens when they fail to abide by their oaths. Let us remind them of our terror, our fury, and our vengeance. Let death and madness reign upon every man, woman, child and city that dares to go against us, for we are the will of the gods made manifest. Come, sisters - the night calls for blood, and blood shall be shed."

With that last declaration, the Erinyes sank into the earth and vanished, leaving nothing behind but darkness.


Author's Note: So, for a while now, I've been wanting to do a story based on the Erinyes from Greek mythology. I first learned of these beings through some university courses on Ancient Greece and Greek tragedies, more specifically Aeschylus Orestia trilogy, and I was so taken by the descriptions of these creatures that I couldn't help feeling intrigued.

Has there ever been a horror story based on these beings?

The Erinyes, or "the Furies", as they are more commonly called, have long been represented in the arts for centuries, although disappointingly, not many represent them at their most monstrous. In some of the earliest descriptions, notably in Aeschylus' Orestia trilogy, the Erinyes were beings that were covered in snakes, although some Greek and Roman sources portrayed them as being shrouded in black, having wings, dog heads, being crone-like and/or having hair like Medusa.

Likewise, their origin was often disputed, ranging from being created by the spilled blood of the god Ouranos (Uranus) following the betrayal of his son, the Titan Kronos, to their being the daughters of Hades and Persephone.

In some sources, however, the Erinyes was a lesser-known form of the goddess Demeter following her rape at the hands of Poseidon, although the number of Erinyes, who or what they were and what they looked like tended to vary over time, with some conflation between various different deities and in different regions.

Regardless of the origin, the Erinyes were often associated with darkness and violent retribution, and because of that, I was interested in doing a horror story that featured them somehow.

Of course, finding a reason for them to be present was something that I had trouble determining, so for that reason, I kind of figured to have the story set in Ancient Greece.

The decision to have the story set in the Minoan Period was partially due to the influence of the Orestia trilogy, more specifically "The Eumenides". Symbolically speaking, the Erinyes in the context of that play had represented the violent eye-for-an eye mentality of the the past, and that play in particular was about the shifts from a retribution-based system of justice to a more neutral and fairer system of restitution. The other reason for the setting also had to do with the presence of several Minoan sculptures of a Snake Goddess that had been discovered, which may or may not be a representation of the Erinyes, and because of that, it seemed kind of appropriate to have the Minoan Period as the setting, although admittedly that does come with its own set of complications.

Admittedly, the issue of human sacrifice and what life had been like during the Minoan Period is relatively uncertain according to academia, part of it due to the fact that Linear A writing has still yet to be deciphered.

However, while the issue of human sacrifice had been uncertain, there was evidence of it having occurred, although to what capacity and how frequently is still yet to be determined.

Fun fact - the incantations used were taken from the Orphic Hymns, which were a collection of religious hymns addressed to various deities that had been compiled in Asia Minor around either 2nd or 3rd A.D., including those related to the Erinyes. Whether or not these specific hymns were used around the time of early Minoan era or the later Mycenaean Period to invoke the Erinyes is not really clear, but it seemed like a creepy easter egg to throw in regardless.

For those of you who are unsatisfied with this story or with its representations of the period or culture, I apologize.

Shout-out to Stuff3 for his help - thank you so much, dude!

Stay safe and healthy, everyone! :D