Something resembling a man lay on a gray stone, long hair coiled around his neck like snakes. His thin body was stained with long-dried blood, and disgusting black claws grew on his fingers. A long black beard touched the creature's chest, while bloodshot eyes staring at the moon. "You like to watch all this, don't you? You love it when freaks like me tear each other apart" The creature's voice was incredibly hoarse, reminiscent of something senile. Raising hand to the sky it clenched its fingers into a fist, thereby piercing its flesh, and releasing fresh scarlet nectar out. "You didn't
taste enough blood? Not enough what have I been through? Not enough kills? What do you want else, I'm stuck here for who knows how long! And you still just watch" The creature's voice became bloodthirsty with every word, anger gradually began to overwhelm his mind.
"Answer damn old man! What do you want from me, what do you need! Ha-ha, you are silent again, of course, it's not proper for a king talk to a mob" Man's voice gradually changed from hysterical to cold-blooded. Then blood flowed from his eyes, falling to the ground like raindrops. Painful gnashing of teeth swept through the entire forest, man's body trembled, then without any word he punched stone on which he had recently been lying. Numerous cracks formed at the site of impact, blood seeping through cracks like worms. His left hand turned into a bloody mess, shattered bones dug into flesh. Man's breathing quickened at times, veins on his body swelled ready to burst. "RHAA!" With a wild roar, man jumped up and then grabbed a stone with both hands raised overhead, he shouted: "You damn coward!" With malice in his eyes, he hurled stone as far as he could.
Breathing heavily, he peered into the forest: "How much time will you take bastards! Feel free to come here, there is enough meat for everyone" Baring teeth, he straightened up to see a horde of the abyss in all its glory. Indeed it was a real horde and nothing less, monsters of various shapes and sizes, like locusts climbed out of their holes during the harvest. Creatures greedily looked at a man since in each of them was a burning desire to taste the flesh.
In nature, there is one rule and it says only strongest survive. It doesn't matter whether you use your mind or brute force, while you shed blood, nature bestows a gift in form of another day full of suffering. What is a law and what is order? In a wild!
Without any second's hesitation, a man with a wild scream jumped up to nearest enemy. The huge spider didn't even have time to react when a blow from two legs crushed his head. Blue goo stained body of a man and other creatures too. The younger Cyclops jumped up and struck a powerful blow with a bone club at bloodthirsty warrior. Have hit a body of a spider, big guy finally finished off creature, by releasing all insides of monster. A man himself somehow managed to dodge the blow, though he paid for it with half of his face. "For this, I will rip off your damn eye and shove it down your throat!" The man hissed while holding his hand at the wounds.
Just a moment later, warrior's face returned to its original shape. Removing his hand, he smiled madly, showing monster his sharp fangs. The Cyclops hesitated from what he saw, and it was immediately used. Running up to one-eyed freak, warrior immediately plunged his claws into belly. Screaming in pain the Cyclops grabbed madman and threw him away. A man flew several tens of meters away while grabbing onto something long and red. At the moment when giant grabbed warrior, he, in turn, grabbed rectum of beast. In convulsively trembling's monster collapsed to ground unconscious.
It was too early to celebrate the victory since horde had not yet been defeated. Bloody eyes of warrior watched as more and more monsters gradually emerged from the forest. For a moment his mind was immersed in thoughts: "Hades deceived me, deprived me of ability to touch metals, made it look like a beast capable of only tear and bite!" Warrior's hands clenched monster insides like a child holding ripe grapes. Blood drops slowly fell to the ground, heralding something dark. Multiple voices started to sound in the Olympian's head, some of them laughing in insane weeping. "Steel is a flaw, flesh is a truth!"
A whisper that turns into a scream. Unacceptable thoughts gradually capture consciousness. Without realizing it, Olympian plunged into a place where he shouldn't have been better. Black veins adorned the warrior's arms, then some kind of pulsating force plunged into monster flesh, transforming it changed to something beyond recognition. The cyclops' intestines exploded, revealing a whip of flesh and bone. A weapon not tamed by the hammer of a forge, not frightened by the fire of a smelter. The instrument of an ugly master, a child what eager to serve his father. Instinctively like a snake that prepare to jump, Olympian waved his creation, intending to unleash withering anger on his enemies. The whip obeyed the order of his father and immediately grabbed the sinner who dared to stand in front of him.
Olympians are those who stand above all others, they look at the world from above without knowing their equals, and no one can go against their will. And each of them must become who he is, free of his true essence. It happens differently for everyone, someone is born already realizing that there is something more than a grain of sand in the ocean. Well, someone comes to this gradually spending centuries and sometimes even millennia to comprehend himself. Fighting with yourself or rather with your weaknesses.
The minotaur swung his ax intent on striking in head, but a bloody sting outstripped bull, wrapping a deadly noose around his neck. The warrior pulled the whip towards himself, thereby cut off his head cleanly. A rain of blood-stained ground marked the beginning of harvest. For the first time in many years, Olympians felt alive and not as abandoned as before. With hunger in his eyes, he lashed out at creatures, tearing some with hands and others with flesh whip. Any great poets would be willing to give at least their life to contemplate this battle. A battle is worthy of entering the epics and legends of Tartarus.
While the eldest son fought his way through the hordes of the abyss, another child was born in a king's house. And as if fate itself mocked Haemon. Giving one prince everything possible, and depriving another of everything possible. Perhaps fate really has favorites? Who knows? Zagreus is the name of the younger prince, the kid was able to inherit all the necessary qualities for an Olympian. The child had no defects, not even a mole on the skin as if throughout his whole existence he was shouting about his superiority.
You will never compare with me, you are only a faded shadow of a great father, I am the true heir. Hades was incredibly happy that day, cause the only heir was born, the one who in the future may possibly ascend throne of Olympus. While everyone was enjoying a feast in honor of young prince, his brother was torn apart by Arachne and Sphinx. While younger brother was sleeping in a warm bed, older brother was dozing on rocks with open eyes. While the younger was awakened by servants, elder was awakened by the hungry cries of harpies. In sad truth, brothers are born of the same father but doomed to a different existence. Haemon's food was rotten flesh and his drink was blood. Zagreus food was selected beef with fruits, and the drink was water from the purest springs.
Hades watched as the eldest son fought alone with legions of the abyss while gradually plunging into the pool of madness. And the king was only amused by the fact that such a weak creature does not leave his attempts to survive. He became curious about whose son Haemon was, and who could give birth to such an imperfect creature. The real parents must have thrown the baby out right after birth. Ha-ha, of course, who will even want to raise a freak. These were thoughts of a king when he watched a boy. Thanatos noted that the child was something unique in his own way, for he had never seen anyone create weapons from the flesh before. So primitive, so disgusting, yet exciting. And even when the king got tired of watching the younger Olympian at the end, Thanatos did not stop, his gaze followed his brother's every step.