HIM

Rising from the table, he moves to Emma's side. Taking her hand, he pulls her up and leads her to some chairs facing the water. A fire burns low in a pit and the waves lap gently at the sand at their feet. She sits, pulling her feet up in the chair, and leans on her arm, looking at him. He turns his head out to the water and stares into the darkened sky. He doesn't understand his need to have her hear everything. Glancing at her, he makes his decision to start from the beginning, determined to make her understand why they must all suffer. Drawing a breath, he begins his tale.

He was three years old when Hades decided he was a failed experiment. That's what the Greek gods do - they experiment. They consider themselves scientists and doctors. They strive to create things. They created him for one purpose -- to hunt the experiments that disappointed them. Unfortunately, Arias disappointed them also. He could not change from one form to the other. They had tried very hard to force him to, and he still bears the scars from their attempts. Hades’ plan was to kill him, and most days of his early life, Arias wished he had. Instead, for reasons he still doesn't understand, Hades banished him from the realm of the gods. One moment, he was cowering in a cage like the dog Hades wished him to be, and the next, he was in a strange place. Silence, except for one whispering voice, greeted his ears. Arias crawled toward that voice stupidly, believing he might find help.

Sisyphus knelt before his offering to the God Hades. Anger filled his heart, and he prayed for help. He was no one, the offering was the last of his belongings. He spent the morning begging for food. He was better than this life. Everyone was against him. He was sure he had been cursed by some other god. He begged the god of war for help, wanting his revenge on everyone. All his life people had plotted against him, at least that is how he felt. The truth was, he was a horrible man and had been a horrible boy. He had been born greedy. His first words were a lie. He had murdered and schemed every day of his adult life. Maybe that is why Hades had heard him.

A scratching noise stopped his venomous rantings. His head turned to the noise and there was a boy, beautifully broken, looking at him with hope in his eyes. Sisyphus looked up at the statue of Hades and thanked him. Standing, he walked to the boy and knelt before him, pulling him up by his thin arms.

"What is your name, and how did you come to be here?" Sisyphus's eyes were hard as he glared at the child.

"Arias. I don't know. I was in a cage and then here. Will you keep me safe?" His blue eyes filled with tears as he felt the hand tightened around his arm.

Sisyphus didn't dare throw the brat away. What if Hades had sent him? Dragging the child by the arm, he left the temple of Nekromanteion. Many times during the long trek to his shack, the boy fell. He would hit Arias, never slowing down. The child scrambled to his feet as he tried to protect himself.

Arias found himself in a new cage. He didn't understand this world he had been thrust into. The first few weeks were spent chained to the wall during the day and beaten each night. Sisyphus made it very clear that he only lived because Hades had sent him. Finally, he tossed him onto a corner near the shack and told him to beg for food and money. Warned of what would happen if he failed, Arias put his heart into voice. The toddler didn't comprehend his power, as he had never used it when he was in the underworld. His pleas and need flooded those around him. Evening came quickly as Sisyphus stomped down the street, clouds of dust billowing up in his wake.

His mouth gaped at the food piled in front of the boy and he turned a slow circle, looking for a trap. He was sure one had been set for him. Arias smiled at him, expecting him to be pleased but was rewarded with a fist in his hair as he was jerked to his feet.

"Grab the food!" Sisyphus shoved him toward the pile, while he grabbed up some himself. His eyes darted around the square looking for trouble. They rushed back to the shack. Once inside, Sisyphus slammed the door and kicked Arias to the floor. Food went flying from his tiny arms. "What did you do? How did you make them give you all this?" Spit flew from his mouth in his rage.

Stammering, Arias cried as he curled into a ball, "I did what you said. That is all." Blows rained down on his back. The beating went on and on. He clamped his trembling lips together because he knew his cries only angered Sisyphus more. Later, he crawled to the corner and watched in silence as Sisyphus ate the food. His stomach hurt from his hunger, and when the man had finally fallen asleep, he crept close to pick at the scraps. He ate as much as he could, unfortunately throwing up when his stomach rebelled.

This was how his days went for the next year. Sisyphus sent him out in the morning and beat him in anger at night. Arias would imagine those that brought him food would help him but no one did anything other than what he asked.

One day a beautiful woman walked by, and he asked her for food. She left and returned with meat from her home. As she bent to hand the food to him, he whispered that he wished she would take him from here. His voice filled with his emotions made her comply so easily. She took his little hand in hers and led him to her home. He was overjoyed and his happiness became her happiness. He had just finished being bathed and dressed in clean clothes when Sisyphus burst in. The woman was killed before his eyes.

Arias doesn't know when Sisyphus finally realized he had power in his voice. The boy didn't understand his power at all. The man began watching him closely while he begged and after a short time, Arias saw a sly glint in his eyes when he took him home. Sisyphus paced and paced the shack muttering to himself, making his grand plans.

If only little Arias had known how to work his power, his life would have been slightly better, but he didn’t. Day after day, Sisyphus beat him, trying to force him to do the things the man wanted. Bones were broken, skin split wide, and still the tiny boy fought to do what was asked of him. His power came and went, his broken body and spirit couldn't figure out why it worked sometimes and other times it didn't. Six years he was beaten and starved, abused both physically and emotionally, until one night a dream came to him.

Orpheus, the god of sleep and dreams, visited the boy often, filling his damaged mind with beautiful images. Orpheus had donated his own essence to the creation of Arias and could find him at will. This night, he was pulled into Arias nightmares and was startled at what he saw. Leaving, he went to Perséphone and told her what was happening to the boy. She was the only one who cared for the experiments; she had even created a realm for them, although too often they were thrown to the humans without a second thought by the others who created them. They discussed how they could help the boy. Orpheus was only willing to do the minimum, lest they draw Hades’ attention. She argued they should grab the boy and bring him to safety, but Orpheus refused, worried that Hades had given him to the man. Hades was more powerful than them both combined. Finally, they decided to give Arias the knowledge he needed to use his power at will, thus bettering his life. The dream did give him the knowledge, but the boy had already been broken, so he stayed with his abuser, enduring years of ongoing abuse.

In those years, Sisyphus used Arias to climb higher and higher. He used him to climb to the very top. He was made King of Ephrya. By then, the boy was a young man, more handsome than any man in the city. Sisyphus watched as women and men tried to get close to the boy. Fearing Arias would use his power against him, Sisyphus had him locked in a dungeon. Only the King was allowed to go near the cell and would bring just enough food to keep him alive. Arias did not see the light for another year. As he sat in his cage, he grew more and more angry. His rage ate at him, the years of torture had made his body strong, and the isolation sharpened his mind to a razor point with one single focus… Revenge.

Sisyphus made his way down the winding stair to the boy's cage, wishing for the millionth time that he didn't have to. He longed to kill the maggot, but his greed stopped him. What if he had need of the boy's talents again? He was a few feet away when he heard the whispers drifting from the cell. He couldn't make out the words, but his feet moved forward, his mind screaming in denial for he knew what was happening - Arias had grown bold. Slowly, Sisyphus unlocks and pushes the door opened, the creaking of the hinges echoing in the silence. The man's heart began to pound as he fights the compulsion, and from the darkness, two eyes glowed out at him. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out as an evil grin bloomed across the filthy, emaciated face that moved into the light. The insidious whispers continued as Sisyphus led the boy up the stairs.

The next few months Arias lived in the palace with Sisyphus, regaining his strength, making his plans. He knew now that the gods had made him and then cast him out. They had sent him right into Sisyphus' hands and, after they knew the horrors of his life, left him where he was. They feared Hades, but they should fear him. His one goal became to return to the Underworld, to find those that had damned him to this life.