Prologue

The cane tapped on the door. The mansion’s doors slammed open, rattling the old hinges, and splintering pieces of wood from the mould-encroached opening. A flash of lightning crackled through the night, illuminating the dark sky. Except the crooked man. He stood there, hooded body hunched over as a dark void in reality, drenched in a hail of rain and the night’s cold embrace. His head twitched as he stepped forward into the long hallway. As if on cue, a long row of braziers blazed into existence, leading any guests down to the grand entrance. Pictures and small pieces of keepsakes lined the walls. An exhibit presenting a group of warriors and sorcerers in battle; all with their radiant, blonde leader adorned in golden armour, shining as the centre of attention, his beauty on display for all to see.

The man paid no heed to these scenes. After all, he had experienced each of them first hand, there was no need to bathe in such false glories any longer. It had all been worthless from the beginning. He trudged down the hallway, twitching with every move, each step snuffing the flames out of the braziers. It was as if the darkness that swirled around his presence absorbed all which dared to reveal what remained within beneath the shadowy being. For his human side, he had long abandoned for these ruinous powers to feed his selfish wants. Even if the darkness consumed his soul, he cared not. The memories of his life, the cruelties from his existence; the falsehoods he had believed for so long! No, so long as he was able to enact justice on the sins of the past, all would be paid for.

Upon reaching the door, the man pressed his weight down upon the cane which supported his frail figure, and shakily stood upwards. His cloak of darkness receded, a mist dissipating, as it rushed into the ragged cloak that draped off his arched back. Brazier flame sprung to life once again, this time to a hideous sight. A pair of bloodshot eyes danced around their sunken sockets as they gazed upon the grand door which lay in their path. The man’s parched lips parted into a wide smile revealing his black teeth and shifting the tortured scars which throbbed on what remained of his pale, cracked face.

He raised his cane and tapped the tall door.

With a bang that reverberated through the corridor, the door flung off its hinges into the circular, grand hall. It flew as if the projectile was carrying an intent to murder, formed from the hate and anger that had been left to fester for centuries. Aimed towards the blonde man sitting lazily on his sofa. The man did not bother to look at the projectile as he was almost skewered. Raising an arm, he stopped the door just as it flew a few inches from his face. He permitted it to float for a few seconds, eyeing it with curiosity, before gesturing his hand to the side and shattering it into splinters. Amused, he cocked his head to the chandelier filled ceiling and released a hearty laugh.

“Dear oh dear, Hector. My prodigal son returns! And what is the first thing he decides to do? He destroys my property and almost decapitates me!” The blonde man looked towards Hector. Dressed in a frilled, silver night gown, his presence radiated a golden aura, making his blonde hair shine. His handsome face, bereft of any blemishes and spots, gleamed in the dazzling, golden hall. Every statue, every piece of furniture, everything was there to praise this Champion of Gold. A perfect specimen fit whose face had turned to disgust. Seeing the hunched man, leaning on his cane, daring to even step foot in his sacred halls; it made his pure expression wretch with silent agony. He had half a mind to fling the scar-faced tramp out of his home and back into the rain, had it not been for the fact Hector was once his.

“Gods…what on earth happened to you?” He gasped aloud. 

A pang of rage took over Hector as he gnashed and grinded his teeth in an effort to control his emotions. At least, for this brief moment. The cloak enjoyed playing with its prey.

“Demetrius, it has been a long time” Hector said as he gave a bow of courtesy. His face attempted a polite smile, ruined by his constant twitching. The golden man waved the bow off hurriedly. There was hardly a change in Hector’s posture anyway and, such meaningless gestures had no place between colleagues with a history as deep as the two men facing one another.   

“Alright yes, it has indeed been what? Ten, fifteen years? But, do hurry and explain what manner of monstrosities beset you on your travels. Are you in pain? Your movements. By the gods please stop!” Demetrius cried, his hands shaking by his side. Noticing this, he turned away and shut his eyes to meditate on his breathing. Never before in his millennia long existence had he exerted so much restraint in the midst of irritancy itself and in that moment, he vowed in silence that he would never do so again.  

Hector smiled “Well, Demetrius, I have travelled far and wide, and learned much of this world. These scars and my current form are but mere blessings from my travels”.

“Blessings...such nonsense. Look at yourself, Hector. Look at the grotesque abomination you’ve become. These are but curses you blind fool. Not blessings!” Demetrius cried as he turned back towards Hector, eyes sharp with annoyance. “Now out with it. Have you returned to serve me? To escape your punishment adjudicated long ago from your treasonous desertion?”

“I have indeed, my dearest Lord of beauty. I am here to repent of my sins in leaving all those years ago and have returned to pledge my allegiance once more”. Hector ignored the insults flung his way. His former lord’s demeanour had not matured in the slightest.

“Ah, the gods have brought justice finally. Do not think I shall be lenient with your punishment. After all, I am an inheritor of immortality” Demetrius said, his cheeks raising wickedly at the sides. “Now, kneel.”

Following Demetrius’ command, Hector bowed his head further and lowered himself, wincing as he moved. The cloak’s impatience became more evident.

Glee and excitement began to rush through Demetrius’ body as he rubbed his gloved fingers in delight. It had been so long since he last had something to satiate his boredom. He pushed all his regrets back into the recesses of his mind and rushed over to Hector’s side. He slammed his booted foot onto Hector’s frail shoulder and saying with arrogance “Now, recite my titles and offer me your gift of repentance, and I shall re-indict you into my retinue”.

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Brittle bones cracked beneath the weight of the hateful boots and yet, despite this, Hector did not budge. Instead, his twitching ceased, and he raised his bloodshot eyes offering Demetrius a look of contentment, the golden man could not help but avert his eyes in discomfort.

“Of course, my lord” Hector said with a pause.

“Well, go on then. I don’t have all day”.

A chill descended upon Demetrius as Hector’s sudden peace, was all too unsettling. Desperate for an end to this, he pressed his boots harder onto Hector’s shoulder.

Hector did not budge.

“But my divine lord, before I swear my fealty once more, I have three questions that I must ask of you. Questions that I have held for so long. Would it be most agreeable for you to satiate my curiosity first?”

On any normal day, Demetrius’ inner temper would have flared, and he would have lifted Hector to hang from his chandeliers by his cloak. Then, a barrage of small objects would have been directed towards the poor receiver of his rage. Such insolence would never be tolerated. Or, wouldn’t have been. On this auspicious day however, Demetrius, for some divine purpose, felt lenient towards the poor man. Whether it was the years of isolation that he had been cursed with, or Hector’s gaze; this time he did not punish his wayward servant.

“Go on, ask your questions” Demetrius said, defeated.

Hector bowed his head once more and began to speak “Thank you my most esteemed lord.”

He looked around the room, gazing at the abode of which he had cleaned and maintained in his past. A place he had spent so long in with fellow retainers and servants bound to Demetrius and yet, he could not think of a single joyous memory. Only pain. He recalled his purpose and produced a false smile. “How is your back after all these years?”

Demetrius’ nostrils flared, feeling an intense an urge to strike at Hector. “It is fine now of course. My rest has been sufficient”. Demetrius hated being reminded of his injury at the hands of the stone guardians that had dealt his isolation, following his failed heist of the Aztec temple. It was the first time he had felt guilt in his millennia alive.

“That is relieving to hear, my lord. I recall that expedition vividly” Hector remarked as he thought of the past. “I remember Danson’s screams as the jaguars ate him alive. It was a gruesome sight from across the ridge. And Helena’s- “

“Do not say her name!” Demetrius shouted. He kicked Hector back, with a force so powerful, Hector’s back cracked against the smooth golden wall, before walking back to his sofa and slumping down as he remembered that horrid day. He no longer cared if Hector was dead or alive, all he wished for was for the vision to vanish.

A giggle escaped the crooked man as Hector raised his head, his spine crunching back into position.

“And my second question, my lord. Where are my fellow retainers? Have you also sacrificed them for your own golden desires? I would think no less of you. They are yours to use after all” Hector said. Pushing himself off the ground, he regained his hunched stance upright and began to slink towards Demetrius, the ghost of his tortured past returning to torment him. His cloak now throbbing as if a parasite alive amidst consumption.

“No, the others, they’re…they...”. Demetrius clenched his eyes shut and tried to envision a different outcome. Escape was all he wanted as he recalled the dark tendrils that had come from the corpses to skewer his final two retainers.

“You killed them, my lord. You let them die”.

“No no no no, I, I don’t know what those tendrils were I- “. Demetrius began to convulse in shock as he tried to rid himself of the memories he had spent the past five years atoning for.

Lifting his eyelids, he saw Hector’s wide, blood drenched holes beside him, staring into his very soul. Calling for payment.

“Now, my lord. A final question- “Hector said, his face twisting and morphing into pure malice uninhibited as he caressed Demetrius’ tearful cheeks with his cold fingers.

 “-Why did you choose me for your suffering?”

A scream escaped from Demetrius’ very being as he shoved Hector back in desperation. The crooked man flew through the air; a hideous snigger echoing out into the open.

“You monster! Get away from me!” Demetrius howled as he moved to escape from this beast that Hector had become. He lifted his gloved hands, gripped the chandeliers from afar and pulled them downwards; hoping to crush the monster that had manifested.

The tattered cloak awoke to life. Tendrils of darkness phased through its fabric. Their long arms filled with cracks and spikes, formed in bits of flesh and tissue. They pushed against the wall, flinging Hector through the air as in an instant, he had appeared right beside the chandelier as it fell. His tendrils clasped the golden object and flung it towards the surface.

Demetrius stood in desolate shock. The tendrils, all this time, it had been Hector. His body shaking with morbid fear, he palmed a mystic symbol and morphed his weapon into existence. The Golden Sword of Midas. His breath heavy and eyes wet with tears, he gripped his blade and steeled himself. Just as the chandelier was upon him, he sliced through, splitting its inner fibres, and jumped to meet Hector.

He pulled his sword down to slice at Hector’s body as he flew upwards, causing Hector to dodge sideways. The twitches were now so constant that it seemed as though Hector was caught mid seizure, cackling all the same. Demetrius flipped himself around to strike at the floating Hector but struck air. Now behind its golden prey, the tendrils realigned and stretched out, gripping Demetrius. Pressing so tight, Demetrius struggled to breathe. The tendrils pushed the two combatants back to the earth, trapping Demetrius in a dark, fleshy prison. All that Demetrius could see was Hector’s arched back straightening as he stood tall, consumed in shadow with a smile which radiated pure evil. His cloak now emanating like a beating heart. 

Hector began to slither closer. “Herald of Gold, Lord of Minos, The Man of Riches, The Immortal Champion of Chrysos. This is my gift to you” Hector cackled as he closed in on his prey. His lifelong goal, his twisted obsession, would end tonight. “You champions are all the same”.

As if they had become a hive of tentacles, his tendrils all raised themselves from Demetrius, morphing into sharp, black spears and lifted themselves towards the sky.

Demetrius did not hesitate. He raised his sword and in an instant, had stabbed Hector through his stomach. The crooked man coughed and stumbled backwards. Black pus escaped his mouth as he choked and slumped onto the ground. Tendrils all vanishing in an instant.

Demetrius could not believe his luck. He could not believe how stupid Hector had been. In his hubris, Hector had released his opponent and allowed a moment to strike. A shriek of a laugh began to echo throughout the ruined hall as Demetrius stumbled to his feet. Relief and disdain were all he felt as he began to release his fury, kicking Hector’s limp body, cracking bones and ligaments until he could no longer laugh. He stared at Hector’s corpse and smiled with relief. Such foolishness to think he could ever defeat Chrysos’ chosen. Exhausted, he patted himself down and began to walk over to his sofa. Victory was his.

As he reached the sofa, he sighed and blinked. His mind wandered to lavish thoughts of wine and a feast as after all, he should be allowed to celebrate surviving an attempt on his life. Blinking some more, he felt a small irritation in his eye. His vision began to blur as he saw darkness creep closer. First at the corners of his eyes, dancing as if in glee. Blinding him with pure despair. A fleshy, beating darkness. Sight blackened as the tendrils slithered across his body to ensare him once more. He tried to fight, but to no avail, as the tendrils were now all he knew. Within the blink of an eye, Hector’s hideous face was right by him, a finger on his smiling lips.

“Shhh, it likes to eat in peace.”

Demetrius screamed as the fleshy tendrils began to stab at his body. Blood gushed from his gaping wounds as Hector twitched and laughed that hideous laugh, savouring the bloody cries of his former master.

This wouldn’t be his last feast.  

The cloak expanded and enveloped the golden hall in a dark bloated mass, covering all within, hiding it from the grace of the gods. All that could be seen from above, was a void as dark as the depths of Hel.