Breathing heavily, my poor father looked at me, his unseeing eyes full of fear and worry. I felt my teeth grinding hard, and it was the rage that fueled me. While my dear father was in this sorry, hurt state, what kept myself from trembling, scared, was my pure fury that consumed me. Sure, my father was a bit crazy on the head, but I loved him. He was my only family left.
But this hundreds-of-pounds of muscle guy was down right horrifying. If he wasn't laughing or being light, then I swear he would snap me in half in a snap of a finger. It didn't help that I was short (5'4 is perfectly normal, thank you very much) and that I never really fought a person before, much less...a not a human dude with visible mountains of muscles. I bit my tongue to stop myself from panicking. If I wasn't strong for myself, then I was going to be strong for father.
The only other option was to be weak and die.
I didn't like that option.
"You. What is your name?" The attacker asked me as if I would give away private information to a stranger who trespassed my house. Respect, my butt. Does he think I'm dumb? Seriously? I was the third, second, or first highest in any class in any grade. What made him think that I am stupid enough to give him my name like a heroine? Because in my mind I was screaming with terror like a little girl?
Please, I was a twenty one year old woman. I didn't panic on the outside, thank you very much. Like a reasonable, sensible person, I stared silent. After a long moment, the dude finally came to realize that I wasn't joking around. Finally. It took him a long time to notice. With an raised eyebrow, and crossed arms like he had the audacity to give me sass in my own home, he growled, "You will answer me." Or else hanged between us menacingly.
But because I had pride to protect, I scoffed and continued saying nothing. He kept a growling like a rabid dog, which very well could be what he might be. I did not notice how he had a tone of a russet skin color that was prettier then my ghost porcelain color, and that his messy, dark hair went good with his stunning green eyes. No, he wasn't handsome. He was down right ugly!! He had to be! He was! Trying to shake out of my illogical thoughts, I demanded, "You say your ugly name first."
He gave me a challenging look as he repiled with that high piano voice of his, "Caede Amator. Council of Hades."
I chocked. His name in latin meant the killer lover? That was just messed up. Also, what kind of parents name their kid killer? Chances are that they were the reason that this dude turned into this freak. What did I say about survival of sanity and humanity? It was not good.
Also, what did he just say? Council of Hades? Where the hell did my bug spray go when I needed it? I was itching for violence, but my gut told me that I shouldn't. Not if I don't want to get punched, which I don't. My gut told me that I wouldn't survive his kick.
My gut was never wrong. It was based on pure facts.
I let the "Council of Hades" sink in. Hades, a God in greek mythology? Was this some kind of game? I realized that Caede was looking at me expectedly. I coughed once and awkwardly said, "Elyune Howella. I guess if I had to choose, Council of Athena?" There were twelve Olympian gods in the greek mythology, right? Also, why the hell did I say that?
Caede's emerald eyes twinkled with amusement. "You don't get to choose, small doll. You get chosen by your god. Hades, my god, chose me in my god ceremony. I was really happy; he was my fav-"
"Number one, why are you saying like they are real?" I interrupted his wild fantasy of unicorns with a hands up. "Number two, who wants a god of death as their patron? And who the hell would be happy about that???? Number three, WHY THE HELL DO I CARE?!"
He had this expression that was 40% amused, 20% annoyed, 30% serious, and 200% MOCKERY LIKE SOMETHING I SAID WAS FUNNY?! It wasn't funny when someone breaks into your house a beat up your only family member while your shopping. It was dead serious. Also, why did that someone chose to break into this haunted house? And bruise my innocent father who recently lost his love of his life to a 100% chronological death like it was personal? I can't see anything common between my father and killer (Caede). Father was in his fifties, skinny as bones, easy going and nice, while Caede was in his twenties with fat muscles, just beat up a random dude that he doesn't know, broke into a small haunted house in EGYPT and (I was pretty sure) that he was hitting on me.
But I don't date trash. In fact, I never date.
"What do you want?" I spat, my voice sharper then I meant it to be. "Why the hell is my innocent father bruised and on the ground, while you intruded in to my house?"
"Ok, little doll." He, again, gave me his raised eyebrow. I think it was is signature expression. "You really think that I, an honorable messenger of Greece, would hurt an innocent bystander?"
There was hundred things wrong with the two sentences that I didn't even know where to start. First, did he had the audacity to call me little doll?? Doll? Was that a praise or a complaint? If it was a praise, I didn't want it, if latter, then I was going to kick him in the face. I don't know if I even like it or not. Two, there was all but one thing he wasn't was. He ain't a honorable person. It was clear from the lack of brain cells he had in his concerningly small brain that he was playing king of gods. Let's not forget about the "messenger of Greece" part, shall we? There was no such thing for sure, and he did just hurt an innocent bystander. We weren't even there in the movie, just another person outside of the world. This wasn't fantasy, it was real life.
So why did he say it like it wasn't?