Perseus casually pulled a pistol from his shoulder holster. "It's good you chose a secluded hovel to live in. And so separate from the main house? Nice." He flashed another white smile.

After retrieving a silencer from one of his men, Perseus began twisting it on with complete focus. "This is necessary. I find the loudness of gunshots... uncomfortable."

"P-please," Medusa managed to say for the first time since this nightmare began. Her tongue was bitter with fear and her head throbbed in time with her heavy heartbeat. Forming coherent thoughts was hard. Coming up with a plan was impossible.

"I can see you have a thing growing in you like that time we met." He gave her belly a pointed look. Nothing in his expression gave away what he was thinking, but Medusa did not need to read his expression to know what he thought of her.

"I promise not to hit a major artery... yet."

When Perseus aimed the gun at Antonii, strength left Medusa's legs. "I beg you—"

Perseus glanced her way. "I need you to watch."

The suppressed sound of a gunshot.

Medusa muffled a horrified yell with a hand as her knees buckled. Blood oozed from the wound in Antonii's thigh. His smothered groans battered her heart, clawed at it, ripping it to shreds.

Shoot me instead. Shoot me. "Why?" Medusa managed to whisper.

"It is not for a beast to understand why it is punished or slain." Perseus' voice was flat, emotionless. "Receive your destiny with obedience."

Another shot. This time in the second thigh. Medusa crawled forward, desperate to reach Antonii, but she was snatched by the hair. She hadn't even noticed when one of the men moved.

As the hand squeezed and pulled, Medusa was hauled back to that awful moment in the cave. That helplessness and swelling sense of inevitable doom.

Though Antonii's eyes appeared unfocused, his chest was moving. He was dying before her eyes and she could do nothing. This man whose only crime was loving her was dying and she was absolutely powerless.

Tossing the gun aside, Perseus flicked his wrist and without ceremony a familiar sword materialised in his grip. Its golden hilt was wrapped in black leather, and the air around its sharpened edge moved like mirages from heat. Medusa blinked at the weapon. Memories. Horrid memories pressed in.

"I see the recognition in your eyes. That is good." Resting the flat of the sword on his shoulder, Perseus strolled over to Antonii and hunkered down. "Let me give you a revelation about the thing you married."

Medusa froze. Don't say it. Please, do not tell him. Please! She yelled on the inside. Wailing. Begging for time to stop.

"May is not your wife's true name. Do you know what a gorgon is?" Perseus cocked his head to the side, thick brown hair shifting across his forehead. "The real name of the thing you married is Medusa and she is a twisted version of a gorgon—an aberration of the species marked for death."

Medusa held Antonii's eyes, begging. This one secret she had kept from him, this hesitation that stretched through seven years was back in its most hideous naked form.

"I perceive that you wish to speak." Perseus untied the cloth keeping Antonii from speaking. "If you plead right, I may spare your life."

Wheezing, Antonii glared at Perseus. The rage in his eyes. "I do not know who you are, but I know my wife. You have done enough to show me who the monster is."

Oh, Antonii. Medusa's heart broke. Bitter tears spilled down her cheeks.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Hmmm..." Appearing in deep thought, the corner of Perseus' lip dipped as he tapped a finger against the hilt of his sword. "I presume you are correct," he said with a nod.

Smartly rising to his feet, Perseus turned and pointed his sword at Medusa. That oppressive aura the sword possessed. How could she ever forget it? "I would have to perform a demonstration for the ignorant man you married, Medusa."

It happened in an instant. One moment, Medusa was kneeling and the next, her head was severed.

Agony like liquid fire. Her vision blurred. Biting cold rushed in. This feeling. This hideous transformation was happening before Antonii. Medusa's soul recoiled within itself; shame, anguish, denial, and a fervent desire to cease to exist reigned over her senses.

No amount of disbelief could turn the reality of the horror unfolding.

Try as she may, Medusa couldn't shut her eyes. And the hissing sounds around her. Slithering reptiles. Her hair was alive. Angry. They moved, twisting and writhing. She could not feel her body; it must have turned to ash. A foot stopped the roll of her head. The thought of what Perseus was about to do—

"You said she was no monster. Now your eyes are wide and terrified." An enraged cry cut off Perseus' chuckle.

"What have you done to my wife!" Antonii's voice grew raw. "What the hell have you done to her, you beast!" He sobbed.

Medusa fought to shut her eyes even as tears flowed without end. How she longed to see Antonii but doing so—No! She begged the gods, even Athena. Like a fool, she shouted memorised pleas of supplication to the deity that most thoroughly ruined her life.

Blind me. Shut my eyes forever. Do not let me see him. I BEG YOU. I BEG YOU, BLIND ME.

"Look at him weeping for a beast." Disgust corroded Perseus' words.

"That's enough noise. I've grown weary of this moving display." Perseus bent and picked up Medusa's head. His touch was fire.

There was movement. She saw their cabinet that held pictures and memorabilia. The left wall she had covered with a horrendous painting of lily meadows. The hand that held her squeezed, burning even hotter. The snakes remained limp in obedience. Soon her life force would fade and a mindless petrification tool would take its place. This pitiful fate.

"Look." Perseus' hand guided her sight. First was Rico's still form. Then the blood around Antonii's legs. His chest. Neck. Chin. Finally, Medusa met his eyes.

The transformation always started with the eyes. Flesh to stone.

Medusa watched it all, detached and yet present. Antonii became stone. Everything was gone. A woman with nothing.

"Still effective." Perseus unceremoniously discarded her head. Her vision rolled before it stopped. Eyes on the ceiling. The only sound her ears registered was a ringing.

Unlike the first time Medusa experienced decapitation, she did not feel empty. Another feeling was rising. Something foreign. A swelling of emotions, an unstoppable force, crashing over and pouring into what should be hollow. A fierce rejection from the innermost part of her being.

Something snapped. A silent explosion. The force of its rupture was thunder in her head.

A violent wind ripped through the living area. Frames flew off walls. Furniture disintegrated. Glass exploded. A force pulled at Medusa, lifting what remained of her body from the ground.

Perseus was yelling something but she was deaf to his words, all her focus was on Antonii's petrified body. Then she was torn from whatever connection she had with her physical form. It was like free-falling from a cliff only to be embraced by soft clouds.

Then the chaos grew still.

Shards of wood and glass, even drops of blood hung midair. Perseus and his men had not escaped this frozen state. Upon Perseus' face was a snarl of determination, his sword aimed at where her head once floated. She knew what to do.

All it took was one touch. First, they turned to stone then crumbled to fine dust. She stared down at the heaps for the longest time. Nothing. She felt nothing. Should she have made them suffer? No. She would not taint these final moments with Antonii.

Turning away, she floated to Antonii's stone form. Kneeling before him, she placed a gentle hand on his face and noticed for the first time the state of her body. Her hand possessed a strange glow. Though her human form remained, it appeared transparent and emitted a soft green light.

Sitting cross-legged before Antonii's statue, Medusa took in every detail. Something black unfurled in her but she paid it no mind. There was no will to observe the strangeness of her current situation.

"I am sorry." Medusa placed her hand on the cool statue once more and willed his body to turn to dust. "Rest well."

A stone urn materialised in her palm and with it, she gathered his dust. Next, she walked to Rico. After pulling and discarding the dagger, she repeated the action.

Now she held what remained of those she loved, and like a child lost in a crowd, she did not know what to do. Never in all her existence had she felt more alone and in pain.

Staggering to her bedroom, Medusa carefully settled in her bed. She considered her lives so far. All five of them, the best being the fifth one. Those precious years where she loved and was loved in return. Very good years in a very good house with a very good dog and a very good husband. Her entire being wept even with the absence of tears.

This time, stop. I do not wish to live again. Let me stay dead. I am exhausted. Please, stop.

With a weak sigh, Medusa released the force that held everything still and succumbed to death.