Author: Sarai Espera PM
Myth rewrite of Medusa. Young woman takes revenge on a rapist then is consumed by what she has becomeRated: Fiction M - English - Horror/Tragedy - Words: 1,273 - Reviews: 1 - Follows: 1 - Published: 02-22-12 - Status: Complete - id: 2999439
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Her name was Bianca and she was beautiful.
She was raised in a quiet home with warm cream colored walls and long sky blue curtains. As a child she would explore the fields surrounding her house searching for flowers to weave into crowns for her imaginary friends.
The child grew into a young women, light skinned, dark hair, lithe and graceful. She was lively and compassionate. All those around Bianca were drawn to her, her sweet face had some magic that drew them in close. No one seemed immune to her charms; yet she was oblivious to it all. She was not vain nor did she abuse the power her beauty gave her. Even the moon seemed to brighten the sky just for a chance to gaze upon her upturned face and the breezes whispered her name as they caressed her curly hair.
How sweet is the taste of youth!
When the world is at your feet and you have all your life to live. Pain has yet to taint the bright sunlight that engulfs your world.
Bianca could have chosen any man; no one would have been able to deny her emerald eyes that flashed like the sea. But no man seemed to be able to hold her interest for long, until Muir. He was the shadow to her sunshine, dark yet gorgeous. He whispered secrets in her ear with his deep, sensual voice. After that she was never far from his tall, strong body. He would gaze down at her with a mischievous smile, his hair black as ink, and eyes as blue and deep as the ocean. He stole her heart.
And her innocence.
She was such a sweet creature and he wanted her all. His carefree attitude and lazy smile has bewitched her like her beauty had done to so many others.
But that was not enough for him. He wanted all of her and he soon became inpatient. He took her to the mountain top covered in boulders that looked like altars set up to some forgotten god. As the sun set he gave her a hungry kiss. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pushed her roughly against one of the boulders, his mouth hungrily searching hers then moving down her throat. Rough hands prying off her clothes.
She had stopped smiling.
She cried, she begged, she tried to fight back but it all fell on deaf ears. He was immune to her pain, he was more beast then human by then.
He picked up her bruised and battered body and put her in the front seat of his car with what remained of her clothes and took her home. She stumbled, half naked into her house only to be scolded and screamed at by her parent. Whore they called her in that once quiet house with sickly yellow walls and curtains the color of his eyes. She felt like a trapped animal, knowing the end was close but there was nothing she could do to stop it.
She needed to escape.
But she was too tired. She stumbled into shower, washing the blood away and fell into bed, into the arms of dark nightmares.
When she woke something was different. It hurt to move yet the pain strengthened her reserve. She combed her beautiful hair, shot through with red highlights and put on make up to cover the bruises. Bianca slipped into a blue dress, his favorite, and snuck into her father's office. She took her purse and car keys.
She knew what she had to do.
Bianca did not hesitate as she walked into his house. No one but him was home. She smiled at her luck.
You came back for more? He asked with a cocky grin, not at all feeling guilty for her bruises or the haunted look in her once bright eyes. She did not utter a word but stared into his eyes like she was trying to read his soul, trying to understand how she could have ever trusted the man with the terrifying, intense blue eyes and the predatory grin. Then she opened her purse and with an almost loving smile shot him between his azure eyes. He did not even have time to be shocked or scared.
His blood was everywhere.
She looked curiously at his ruined face for a moment, like she was surprised such evil could be so easily destroyed. Then without a backward glance she turned and drove home. Returning the gun to her father's office.
She played the part of a mourning lover when she got the news of Muir's murder. But she was really mourning her innocence, she could not get it back nor could she forget it. No one thought to question his girlfriend who had badly hidden bruises on her arms and neck. No one even considered someone as beautiful and pure looking could do such a thing. She was all alone with her pain yet she survived, life returned to her eyes and confidence in her walk.
She was even more beautiful than before.
There was something irresistible and subtly dangerous in her eyes, almost like a lighthouse warning men away.
But men did not heed the warning, like moths drawn to the flame they came to her. Longing to caress her milk white skin and run their fingers through her hair. Some sweet and kind and others not so much…No one thought twice when some of her lustiest suitors disappeared or were found with their brains blown out in some dark alley.
No one suspected.
Her beauty hid her from suspicion- in her heart knew and she loved it. It was such a thrill to look the friends and family of her victims in the eye and see no suspicion.
Her father's pistol got more and more use. Soon it was not just over eager lads who felt its bite. She would leave for days leaving a bloody trail which led nowhere. Her eyes began to sparkle too brightly, like they were on fire. Bianca was no more; all that was left was a tigress.
A goddess with blood stained hair.
She loved the fear in their eyes as she raised the pistol to their heads.
She longed to watch their pulse quicken as they realized what she really was. And her pure beauty made her fury all the more horrible. She would laugh as they begged and pleaded as she once did, then she would silence them forever.
One warm night not unlike most summer nights.
The woman who was Bianca was in the embrace of a sweet man. He kissed her gently and told her he loved her.
She laughed and pushed him back on the bed, pulling out the pistol from its hiding place. He gasped and stared, she hit in over the head. Once. Twice. Blood poured from his nose and a gash in his forehead. He cried out, confused and begged her to forgive him for whatever he did. She didn't blink an eye when his blood splattered all over her. She looked up and caught her reflection in the mirror.
Her blood splattered body straddling a still warm corpse, still holding the pistol.
She stared at herself, her beautiful face covered in blood, her hair wild and curly, blood stained. So much blood.
She was more beast then human now. She screamed and looked at her hand, still holding the pistol. She fired a shot into the mirror then into her own skull. Blood splattered, like wings, onto the wall behind her. Bianca was dead.