Haemon, his eyes crazed and filled with anguish, directed his intense gaze towards his relatives who were gathered around the table. Suddenly, he leaped to his feet in a wild, jerky motion, an unsettling grin spreading rapidly across his pale face. The onlookers, who had been conversing in hushed tones, exchanged worried glances, their expressions filled with apprehension. They were ready to voice their growing concern for the warrior's unstable demeanor to one another. However, before they could speak, Haemon gestured sharply with a blood-stained hand, instantly silencing the gathering.
"No! I have no intention of conversing with dolls," the barbarian declared in a loud, ragged voice, wagging his finger erratically as his eyes scanned the crowd. A tinge of sadness could be seen behind the madness in his wild eyes as he surveyed those who had once been close to him. Then, in a strange, hushed whisper, he swiftly approached Mare, his beloved who sat motionless at the table. Gently, yet with trembling hands, he whispered brokenly into her ear, "I miss you dearly, my love, but what is dead should remain at peace."
With great tenderness, he gently stroked her long, white hair. To the horror of onlookers, she responded to his touch with a smile, leaning into him as if for an embrace or kiss. Yet without warning, Haemon's unstable mood shifted in an instant. Instead of an embrace, he violently tore out her still-beating heart with his bare hands. The girl, Mare, stared up at her once-lover in utter shock, fear, and pain, her hands weakly clutching in vain at the bloody space where her heart had been ripped from her chest only moments before.
"Farewell, my love!" Haemon cried out in a voice as cold and sharp as steel. His gaze, filled with anguish, regret, and madness, remained fixed on Mare's lifeless body. Swiftly and mercilessly, he closed his blood-soaked fingers around the girl's heart, crushing it to dust without shedding a single tear. The horrified onlookers, who just moments before had been conversing peacefully, let out screams of pure terror at witnessing such a horrifying and gory spectacle committed by someone they had known.
Unfazed by the chaos now erupting around him, Haemon disregarded the wails and cries, weary of the overwhelming emotions and unfamiliar sensations raging within him. Calmly seating himself once more at the head of the table, he wiped the blood and viscera from his hands and arms onto his clothing with a look of disgust. "Put an end to this madness," he whispered hoarsely to no one in particular, his eyes glazed and unseeing as he stared blankly ahead.
Suddenly, without warning, the surroundings underwent an unrecognizable transformation before Haemon's crazed eyes. What was once a vibrant, green forest teeming with lush plant life and the joyous sounds of wildlife had now morphed into something entirely different and sinister. Where flora and fauna once flourished in abundance, the decaying corpses of twisted, blackened trees and animals were all that remained, their skeletal forms barely recognizable.
Dark, ominous storm clouds had rolled in and now shrouded the sun, casting the entire world into an eerie, unnatural darkness. Gone were the friends and family who had been gathered, reduced now to piles of charred black ashes scattered upon the barren earth. An unsettling silence enveloped the atmosphere, allowing only a chilling wind to whisper its mournful tune through the lifeless branches above.
The Olympian warrior, Haemon, inhaled deeply the cool, ash-filled air, seeming to savor its foulness. A small, strange smile of what appeared to be satisfaction or even joy gently graced his bloodied face. Calmly, he addressed the being who now stood before him across the decaying table. "So, this is my true appearance and nature, revealed at last," Haemon remarked to his doppelgänger, who was seated opposite him.
The doppelgänger who mirrored Haemon's form resembled depictions of beautiful youths from opulent royal tapestries of times past. Unlike the crazed warrior, he exuded no foul stench of bloodshed, sweat, and madness from his body. His eyes, too, lacked Haemon's own fiery thirst for death and violence, instead containing a deep sadness.
With a faint tinge of sorrow in his gentle gaze, the doppelgänger softly inquired of Haemon, "How did you come to realize that memories are but mere illusions in the end?" His head tilted slightly as he awaited the warrior's answer, a barely perceptible expression of what seemed to be disbelief or perhaps denial briefly gracing his otherwise serene features.
Haemon let out a light, mirthless chuckle as he scratched idly at his temple with a long, claw-like finger, though his unsettling smile never wavered. "Ah, that! To be completely honest, for so long I had no true inkling of what was real and what was merely darkness within my tortured mind," he replied, his words unfolding at a leisurely pace. "You possess great skill in this strange realm between life and death."
The golden-haired doppelgänger furrowed his brows further still at Haemon's response, his condemnation and disappointment now clearly etched upon his fair features. "You mean to say that in your pursuit of truth, you took the life of an innocent soul who loved you dearly, all without even being certain if your brutal choice was truly the right one?" Bitterness and deep incomprehension laced his impassioned words.
"Ha-ha, no need to paint me as some heartless monster," Haemon replied with a sardonic smile playing upon his blood-stained lips. "Can you prove to me definitively that you yourself are not the monster you appear to be at this moment?" he added, raising a mocking eyebrow in challenge.
"The...taste of blood and flesh," the Olympian warrior responded curtly after a pause, his fiery red eyes beginning to glow even brighter with a building rage that seemed barely contained. "So you claim you had to savor the flesh and blood of the innocent to somehow ascertain its authenticity or truth?" he sighed heavily then and slowly shook his handsome, golden-haired head.
For a brief yet tense moment, both formidable combatants fell into a chilling silence, their intense gazes locked in a battle all their own. The howling wind outside lashed violently against their faces, a clear signal that the time had come to bring this turmoil and confrontation between them to its inevitable conclusion.
Abruptly rising from their seats, they lunged at each other with ferocious, predatory speed, obliterating the decaying table they had been facing each other across moments before. Their powerful collision sent tremors through the very fabric of reality itself. Each warrior parried and evaded the other's lethal strikes with immense skill, their unyielding determination, and capabilities shining through their locked gazes.
"You're strong, boy!" Haemon growled through clenched teeth, black pulsating veins now surfacing prominently upon his battle-hardened body. Crimson nectar trickled from his glowing red eyes like tears of blood. Swiftly, he aimed a forceful kick squarely at the doppelgänger's groin, only to be met instantly by a counterblow of equal, if not greater force to his own stomach in return.
The powerful collision sent both formidable warriors hurtling through the air several meters apart. They landed upon the ashen earth in low, defensive crouches, their icy gazes immediately locking once more as each sought any sign of weakness or vulnerability in the other's fighting form and defenses.
"Why do you emit such a peculiar, almost divine scent?" Haemon whispered just loud enough to be heard over the howling wind, genuine curiosity lacing his usually harsh voice.
"Do you still not comprehend who, or rather what, I truly am, heathen?" the blond doppelgänger retorted coldly as he summoned a great silver sword into his grasp that seemed to burn with the very fires of justice and righteousness itself.
Haemon raised a questioning eyebrow and frowned slightly. "And should I?" he challenged.
The doppelgänger chose not to offer any response, preferring actions over further words in this confrontation. With swift, incredibly powerful strikes fueled by his blazing sword, he aimed to finally vanquish this deranged monster that called itself Haemon once and for all.
Fortunately for the barbarian warrior, through instincts honed by countless battles, he managed to narrowly avoid decapitation by matching his opponent's otherworldly speed. The crude weapon Haemon had fashioned from his own flesh disintegrated instantly into ashes upon even briefly coming into contact with the searing flames of the doppelgänger's divine sword.
The sheer aura and power exuded by this ethereal blond creature was unlike anything Haemon had ever personally encountered before, surpassing all he had known in his violent lifetime thus far.
"I must admit, you have grown considerably stronger since our last encounter," the doppelgänger spoke coldly yet calmly as he gripped his blazing sword with both hands, ready to deliver the final death blow.
"Grown stronger?" Haemon questioned in genuine surprise, narrowly dodging another lethal strike. "So then...this is not in fact our first meeting, strange one?"
With a single sweeping motion, towering pillars of roaring flame engulfed the barren, ashen land as far as the eye could see.
Haemon's battle-hardened body disintegrated instantly into mere wisps of gray ashes carried away on the scorching winds. The last sight the barbarian beheld before ceasing to exist was the emergence of two pristine white wings of divine light and power unfolding proudly from the stranger's muscular back. And with that, he ascended gracefully into the darkened heavens above.
*******
Inferno
With a pained cry, Haemon jolted awake suddenly in the midst of his dark chamber, bathed in a cold sweat. His hands trembled uncontrollably as they instinctively touched his bare chest, discovering to his utter horror and disbelief a very real, searing burn mark that should not have been physically possible.
"This was no mere dream or vision," Haemon whispered hoarsely, shaking his head in denial of what his senses were telling him. "The fated hour is fast approaching, it seems."
A shadowy form then seemed to materialize out of the very air itself, bearing subtle traces of regret in its rasping, otherworldly voice. The shadowy creature, an entity that had long served loyally as Haemon's protector, regarded its master now with evident concern shining in its dark, featureless face.
"Shadow, what in the nine hells does all of this mean!?" Haemon demanded to know, rising unsteadily to his feet with a mixture of anger, fear, and confusion. However, his faithful companion paid him no heed, merely whispering ominously before vanishing into wisps of darkness, "He...has truly awakened at last!"
Already beyond exasperated by the bewildering and frightening events that seemed to be unfolding before and within him, Haemon could contain his turbulent emotions no longer. Letting out a feral, anguished scream that shook the very walls, it promptly prompted his wife Hel to swiftly enter the chamber, her usual calm demeanor now replaced with evident concern.
"What has transpired to cause such distress, my love?" the queen inquired while addressing her clearly disturbed spouse. Haemon was about to respond with an outburst of anger, but his harsh words halted abruptly as he noticed a small, innocent creature of some kind now cowering fearfully against Hel's protective form, its wide eyes filled with tears.