Chapter 1

Pan runs across the field as fast as he can.  It's pretty fast.  It isn't until he reaches the huge crater in the earth that he notices things had changed.  A great shiver had taken over the world.  They all had felt it.  And maybe that's what had led them all here to this place.  To the huge crater that went down, down, down, down to nothing.

"What's happening?" he asks.

"You're late, goat," a voice says.  He sees Phobos and Deimos.  The twin sons of Ares, the god of war, and Aphrodite, the goddess of love.  Both were minor gods of war in their own right.   He knew the brothers by sign they carried.  The upside down triangle tattooed on their foreheads.  Phobos had a circle in his triangle and Deimos had an arrow.

Pan doesn't take the term goat offensively even though he's sure that's how Deimos meant it.  He was the God of nature, the wild, shepherds, flocks, goats and the  mountain wilds.   Many of the gods had lived in Olympus, especially with the new religions that swept the earth.  They all still played their parts but Pan always preferred living among the goats.  He preferred the wilds.  He was a satyr.  That meant he was half man-half goat.  He much more preferred the goat side of things.  Specifically, because goats didn't have to deal with problems like this.

"Ignore them," a familiar more warming voices states, "They are just beautiful dangerous idiots..."

It's Ganymede, the beautiful.  He was the cupbearer of the Gods.   Zeus, the king of the Gods, kept Ganymede close at all times.  Pan notices the stained tears on Ganymede's face.

"I felt the shiver.  I got here as fast as I could," Pan states.

"The Fates summoned us all here."

He turns and sees them.  The Fates.  They rarely ever came out of their apartment in Olympus.  Even from the wilds Pan had heard the stories of them being legendary hermits.   They were out now and it has to be a big reason.

"Did you feel it?" Phobos asks, "Deimos and I got here before all the others."

"What happened?"

"Someone released the titans..." Deimos states.

Pan looks down into the abyss.  Yes.  He recognized this abyss now.  The abyss was Tartarus.  It wasn't a hole in the ground.  It was a prison.  It was a prison for monsters that never should have been released! The titans!  All of a sudden it feels so much colder... freezing almost. Pan can see his breath.

All of a sudden it becomes clear why the fates are there.  It's clear why minor goddesses are tearing up. It's clear why even the strongest amongst them was quaking in fear. The titans were out!

"We need the Olympians," Pan states.

The twins are silent at that moment.  Ganyede is silent. They look at each other and then look at Pan.  The look in their eyes gives Pan another shiver, smaller than the first.  It was an aftershock after a huge Earthquake.

It's Deimos who speaks, "That's the thing.  The Olympians are dead.  Every last one of them."

~

I feel a shiver.

"You OK?"

"Yeah I'm fine.  Just...nevermind.  Keep going."

"Damn I love you..."  he tells me.

His name is DeAndre Wyatt and he's fine as all fuck.  He just got drafted to the NFL.  He's 6'4", 240 pounds with 5 percent body fat.  He has his barrel chest pressed up against me and his dick inside of me as I have my legs flipped over my head.

I don't have anywhere near the kind of body he has.  I've never quite needed it.  The way he looks at me I can tell that he thinks he's the lucky in one in this position.

"Dam Thad," he  grunts.

He is squeezing onto the bed panel.  His long dick keeps going in and out of me.  He's the perfect guy and the way he looks at me is as though I'm the only one in the world.

"Fuck me, yes!  Oh yeah!  Just like that.  Just like that!" I'm grunting, "Oh god, give it to me.  Just like that!  Oh yes!"

"I'm about to cum."

"Don't cum."

"I can't help it.  You just...damn," he is grunting, "You're just so...perfect..."

"Wait just a minute longer.  One minute longer..."

"I'm about to cummmmmm!"

Dammit. I roll my eyes feeling the annoyance of unsatisfaction.  I try to pull him out and that only makes it worse because he sprays his man juice all over my chest and face.  He lets out this long scream that seems to wake up the neighborhood.  He's dramatic as hell as he does it.

You can tell he's putting his all into this.  He's loving every moment of it.

"Damn," he says when he's done, "I'm not even gay.  I never thought about being with a guy before.  It's just you're so...perfect..."

I get up and get a rag.  I start cleaning myself off.

"You don't have to say that."

"I mean it," he responds, "I mean, look at you.  I just fucked the hell out of you but there isn't a hair out of place.  I mean, for example, I've never met someone who has the ability to rise straight from the bed after a hard night's partying and wearing the rattiest possible clothes yet still being able to make even the best supermodel primped to perfection look homely in comparison."

I look at him in the mirror.

"You think my clothes are ratty?"

"Baby I didn't mean it like that..."

"I'm not your baby," I respond to him.

"But I'm in love with you."

Dammit.  He didn't get it.

Just at that moment as though it wasn't bad enough I hear the door open.  I knew exactly what the hell that meant.  My dad was home.   My dad Thaddeus Moss Senior worked at security at a shitty hotel overnight.  He also did construction during the day which is where he should have been.  He still made little to no money though. Hence the `ratty' clothes that Deandre was referring to.

"Shit...climb out the window," I state.

"Come with me," Deandre states grabbing onto my hands desperately, "I can give you anything you need.  I'm about to be in the NFL.  We can get married.  You won't need for anything."

"Aren't you already engaged?"

"I'll leave her."

"Don't," I'm quickly shaking my head, "You have a daughter on the way.  Deandre this isn't going to work.   It was fun while it lasted but...it's over.  Can you just...like...leave?"

I'd been wanting to find a way to do this for quite some time now.  This wasn't exactly how I wanted it to happen.   That's when I see this look in Deandre's eyes....

awkward fucking look...

I'd seen the look in so many eyes of so many different men so many times.  I remember the look when I had given Mike Andrews a kiss in 5^th grade behind the gym set.  I remember how he looked at me.  He'd followed me everywhere for the rest of the school year.  Or I remember when I was in highschool. My first boyfriend was Yousef Williams.  He was straight until he had met me.  I remember telling him I was second guessing the relationship and to prove how he felt about me he carved my name with a razor blade on his chest.   I remember the first time I had sex.   I remember hearing the boy I had sex with Quinne Andrews committed suicide when I told him I was moving away.

It was that look.

That same look.

"I'm not going anywhere.  You're the love of my life," he states.

"It's time for you to leave," the door opens.

My father is standing behind the door.  I feel immediately embarrassed.  Maybe it's because I'm only half dressed and Deandre is still completely naked.  My father stares at the ground seeming to have some sort of respect for the moment but I don't know how long that will last.  I lean up against the dresser.  God, I hated disappointing him but it seemed like everything I did was a disappointment to my dad.

My father a big man.  He's not a football player big, but he's just as tall as Deandre at least.  Usually people are intimidated by him, but Deandre doesn't budge of the bed.

"Who the hell is this?" Deandre asks, "You cheating on me?"

My father did look good...for his age, but Deandre was completely losing it.

"Are you joking?" I ask, "That's my dad."

"That's a goddam lie.  I look dumb. Dam yo I knew you was fucking around on me! I knew it!  Even if he is your pops, I know how people get down nowadays," Deandre stands, "You're mine, Thad.   I don't want you around no other man but me."

He takes a step quick.  He takes a step towards me.

"Enough," my dad says louder, "I'm not going to ask you again."

My dad removes his hand from behind his back.  He has a pistol on him.  Deandre takes a look at the pistol.  He takes a look at me.  For a moment I think he's lost it enough to still try to do something.  Instead he gathers his clothes in a ball and walks out at that moment.

I watch the way a very much so naked Deandre looks at my dad as he walks out of the door.  He's mad.  He's beyond mad.  He's pissed the hell off.

"Dad...I can explain..."

He cuts me off, "Get dressed.  I'm taking you to work."

~

My father and I have always had a weird relationship.  See, the thing was...I was 28.  I wasn't a kid anymore, but my father refuses to let me move out.  I know it sounds dumb.  I'm a grown man.  I should be able to do what I want, but it's just...not like that.  It never has been.  My father could be overbearing at times, like most of the men that came in and out of my life.  He was being protective.  I knew he was, but I wondered when he was going to ever let go a little bit.

I watch him in the car.  Hea stone cold. He's brought his gun with him just to take me to my dead end job at the call center

"Are we going to talk about it?" I ask him.

My father is irritated.  I can tell.

"How many times we going to talk about it?" he asks me, "How many times are we going to move because these boys become obsessed with you over and over again?"

It's times like this that he made me feel like a burden to him.  I tried to help out financially but it would have been so much easier for him to just stay in one spot.  It'd be easy for him to get a real job.  That never happened.  Never with me.

"I'm sorry about the boys.  I'm sorry your gay son is such a disappointment."

"You know this has nothing to do with you being gay," he responds, "It's your attraction. You put that energy out there and it comes back ten-fold each time."

"Other people date."

"You aren't OTHER PEOPLE!"  My father barks at me at that moment slamming his foot on the brakes.

We scare Mrs. Monica who was one of the ladies I worked with.  She clutches her chest as my father breaks hard.   When she realizes it's my father she gives him a flirty wave.  Monica was actually pretty. She clearly likes my dad and I introduced them hoping he'd like her. He didn't. My dad barely even acknowledges her.   He didn't have much of a sex life and damn sure didn't want me to have one.   I look around as the other ladies are all gathering out in front of the office.

My dad got me this job.  He made sure I didn't work with any men.  He found a call center where the only interaction I would have with men would be over the phone.

After a few seconds of cooling off he puts his hand on my shoulder, "Listen, things are different with us.  It's the reason I don't let you use your own pictures on social media.  It's the reason I don't want you to date.  You're special.  People can't handle the way you look.   It's safer this way.  Trust me."

`The way I looked': I had brown skin, full lips and my eyes were a uniquely dark shade of black.  I'd heard men tell me they got lost looking in the depths of my eyes.   Some of them remarked that they fell into the blackness at times and never knew how they'd get back out.   My hair was short and a cinnamon color that was even lighter than my skin.  It was just like my father.   I had stopped aging at 18. Physically at least.  I looked exactly the same I believe, but I couldn't be sure because my father refused to ever let me take a picture.

"Deandre says I could be a model.  I know I'm a little short but he says I have the face.  He says I could be famous.  Maybe make us some money...get us out of here..."

Even the mention of Deandre irritates my dad as he blows me off, "We aren't ready for that."

It's strange how he says that.  I want to comment on it but I'm distracted.  Over the car a heavy breeze carries a hurricane of rose petals.  Everywhere the rose petals seem to be falling around us.  Everywhere.

"That was beautiful, wasn't it?" I tell my dad.

My heart gets warm at the thought.  Today felt like it would be a good day.  That is until I realize my dad frantically looking out of the window.   He has his gun in his hand and he has his finger on the trigger.  The rose petals storm seems to simmer down in the next couple of minutes but my father is still on urge.

"Go into the building," he states, "I'm going to circle around the building a few times."

"What's happening?"

"Nothing," he tells me, "If anyone weird contacts you let me know.  Call me.  You hear me Thad?  Thad!  I need you to respond.  I need you to let me know know you heard what I just said.  Did you hear me, Thad?"

"I got it.  I got it."

I leave the car.  My father acting paranoid wasn't the weird thing.  The only people who seemed to act normal around me were females.  I had a paranoid father and my relationships always turned into fatal attraction.  So I didn't think much about it, even when my father starts circling the parking lot like a madman.   There is one thing I notice though.  Right next to the building there is a beautiful swan coming out of the lake.

It stares at me and for some reason I just feel a familiarity to it.

~

"Everything OK?" Nancy Elliott asks me.

I yawn a little bit, "My dad just bugging me all day."

Nancy smiles, "He can bug me any day."

"He's twice your age Nancy. I'm trying hook him up with Monica."

"She's terrified of him," Nancy responds smiling, "Whatever.  We can drop it.  You look dead tired though."

I laugh at the thought, "Late night. If you know what I'm talking about.  I need to get some coffee though.  I'll be right back."

I look down at my phone.  Five texts from my dad and a few missed calls.  He was asking me if I was OK.  He was making sure that I knew he'd come pick me up from work later on.  It's the same shit, different day.  As I walk into the kitchen I feel like I am losing it when I hear a deep voice.  The voice of a man.  Maybe it's one of the girls talking to their boyfriends on speakerphone somewhere or something.  I'm not sure.

I keep walking until I get into the breakroom.  It's empty in here.  Everyone is out on the floor.

I'm at the coffee machine at that moment.

That's when I hear the voice.

"Hello."

It scares the SHIT out of me!  I turn at that moment and see a man standing there. He has bronze skin and black curly hair.  He's attractive but not in a `oh my god—I want to fuck him' sort of way.  He has more of a boyish, cute charm about him.  There is sex appeal but the best way to describe he was cute as hell. He has a smile on his face that's kind of mischievous.  His hair is really curly actually.  He has on a white bomber jacket.  He has on some jeans and something that looks like combat boots.  He isn't looking at me directly but seems to be playing with something in his hands.  I squint and notice what he's playing with.  They are pearls...

"Uh, do you work here?" I ask.

"No."

I'm so confused at that moment.  This company was ran by this old lady who was the biggest feminist I'd ever met.  I swear the only reason that she hired me was because my dad did all these repairs on her house for free.

"Who are you?"

He smiles at me, "My name's Cupid.  Cupid Bloom."

He wasn't looking at me.  Intentionally.  It was weird.  He keeps looking down at the pearls and spinning them in his hand.  It's clear he's avoiding looking at me.  I take a few steps towards this guy.  It's a weird name for a weird guy.

"Are you lost?" I ask.

"Actually no, I'm not," he states, "I found who I was looking for.  I came to deliver a message, to you. Unfortunate news, actually.  Your mother's dead."

"My mother?"

"Yes."

Dad never told me much about my mother.  He just told me she was beautiful.  He told me that she was special.  He told me that they were never meant to be together.  He always seemed sad when he spoke about my mother.  He always seemed like it brought him pain to talk about her.  Not a lot of things hurt my dad.  Maybe that's why I never dug deep on asking about her.  I'd tried to do my own research but never really got far.

"You got the wrong guy," I state, "I don't have a mother."

"Thaddeus Moss?"

"Yes."

"Your the one. Your mother's dead unfortunately."
I feel heavy at that moment.  I feel so heavy.  I sit at the table.  I didn't know this woman.  I didn't even know her name.   Why the hell did it hurt so much?  A part of me always wanted to muster the courage to ask my father more information about her.   Why didn't I?  Why couldn't I?

"How...how uh...damn...how did she die?"

"Murder."

"Holy shit."

When I say that we finally connect eyes.  He takes a deep breath when he takes a look at me.  All of a sudden he starts to cry.  Tears start rolling down his face as though he is mourning personally for some reason.  Looking at my face seems to have triggered this.  I don't know what gets over me, but for some reason I want to comfort this guy.  I walk over to him and put my hands on his shoulder.

"Sorry," he tells me after a few seconds, "It's just that you have her face."

"You knew her?"

Cupid smiles at that moment, "I did.  She was the most beautiful soul."

"Then why would anyone kill her?" I ask.

"it wasn't personal," he explains, "It's a family grudge.  Unfortunately a family grudge that is passed down to you."

"Are you saying I'm in danger?"

"I'm saying you aren't safe here.  You aren't safe with people.  They cannot protect you.  Someone let out the killers.  And you're probably next on the list.  You need to become yourself."

I laugh at the idea, "Just who am I?"

I hear footsteps at that moment.  I turn away from Cupid and see Nancy walk into the breakroom.  She gives me a confused look.

"Who you talking to Thad?"

"I was talking to---"

I turn.  The emptiness of the room at that moment blows my mind.  He's gone.  He's gone just as fast as he came.  What the hell was going on?

I pick up the phone and text my father.

WHO WAS MY MOTHER?

~

It's the end of the day before my father returns the text:  SOMETHING MADE YOU ASK THAT.  I NEED YOU TO STAY WHERE YOU ARE.  I'M COMING TO GET YOU.

"Have a good night Thad."

I'm standing outside before I know it.  I'm so confused.  The boy Cupid Bloom had disappeared in thin air after breaking the news about my mother.  I remembered how sad he was about it.  It was as though he had lost her too.  He couldn't have been lying.  That kind of emotion didn't come from a liar.  But how did he find me?  How did he know who I was?  And how did he disappear right in front of my eyes.  I don't know why I'm thinking about it so hard.  It could all be a bunch of nothing.

I completely forget where I'm at until I feel something behind my back.  It's something sharp!

"Walk..." the voice says.

I turn halfway around and notice who it is.  It's Deandre.

"What the fuck..."

"Walk..."

He has the knife behind my back.  Before I know it I find us walking.  We're walking behind the building.

"See you Thad!"  Nancy calls out.

She doesn't see Deandre with the knife behind my back.

"Wave back," Deandre whispers angrily.

I wave back to Nancy and can see her concerned look as she's wondering who was with me.  Normally the girl was nosy but I had no idea what was going through her mind as she sees me walking away from my usual pick up spot.

We walk behind the building and keep walking.

"How'd you find my job?" I ask.

"He told me you would be here."

No way he's talking about my dad.  My dad would die before he let a guy know where I was.

"Who you talking about?"

"Don't know him.  He came out of no where.  Gave me knife.  Said where you'd be..."

Someone helped Deandre find me!  Someone wanted him to do this! Who?  The idea of coming out of no where made me think of Cupid Bloom.  But Cupid wouldn't have done that.  He seemed nice.   Why would he warn me of danger only to put me in danger? No...Deandre was talking about someone else.  Someone I didn't know yet.

"Deandre what are you doing?" I ask realizing we are surrounded by woods, "Where are you taking me?"

"We're going to run away together," Deandre says, "I have a car parked on the other side of the woods."

This was happening again.  I can see it almost immediately that this was happening again. He had veins in his forehead Deandre is desperate.  I've made another man snap.

"Deandre this is kidnapping," I tell him, "I told you I didn't want to be with you.  I told you that..."

"It's your boyfriend!" he says pushing me.

He's talking about my dad again. The push is hard. It's angry. I stagger  and turn around.  I take a look at his knife.  It has a strange symbol on it. A triangle with a circle on it.

"I already told you that was my dad," I explain to him.

"Then why don't you want to be with me?" he asks.

Tears are in his eyes.  I didn't know whether they were real but what mattered is that he thought they were real.  He thought he was in love with me and couldn't live without me.  These feelings were wrapping him up in this shell of emotion that he couldn't break loose from.

"You're just not...the one..." I tell him.

Hearing that makes him snap.  He thrusts forward.  It's out of pure passion.  I don't think he expects it.  I never felt pain like I feel when he shoves the knife into my abdomen.  I squirm falling back at that moment. He twists it into me over again.

"Fuck...what did I just do?"

"You fucking stabbed me..."

"Look what you're making me do.  Look what you're making me do."

It's as though he's gone past any sense of reality because all of a sudden he grabs me in a choke hold and he starts to squeeze.

And squeeze.

And squeeze...

It feels like dying .   Nothing is stopping him from strangling me.  The world seems to get further and further away from me by the second.  It feels like I'm fading away from my body.  Soon his heavy breathing becomes nothing but a memory.  Soon his frantic mad talk fades as well.  Then goes the light.  Then goes the pain as well.

Nothing but darkness now.  Darkness and silence.

~

It seems to last forever and then out of no where there is a spark in the darkness.  A recharge.  An abnormality that shouldn't be there and I am up again.  I'm breathing!  I can feel pain, but not from where he choked me.  I can feel pain from the stab wound.

"He's up!"  a voice states.

It's my father.  I'm so confused though who he is talking to.  Had he called the cops.  No.  It wasn't the cops.  It was someone else.  Someone with combat boots on and a bomber jacket.

My dad was with Cupid Bloom.

"Thank Zeus," Cupid Bloom states at that moment.

"No thank you. Thank you for helping me find him," my father states, "I need to take him to the hospital."

"He is past your human medicine now Thaddeus," Cupid states, "It's time he comes with me.  You know it and I know it."

There is a silence.  I look up at my father.  My wound in my abdomen was aching in a way that was making me uncomfortable.  My father has his gun in his hand and he points it at Cupid.  I want to stop him but I'm too weak to say anything.  What is weird is that Cupid doesn't even flinch at the gun.  He seems so unconcerned.

"I won't let you have him."

"You can't stop me.  You know that gun won't do anything to me.  You know that much about us."
I never saw my father so defeated as he is when he drops the gun off to his side silently.  It's all still just flashes coming in and out.  He turns to me and shakes his head.

"He's a mortal."

"He's not.  If he was a mortal he would have stayed dead.  She chose him.  She chose him to become her heir.  She chose him of all her children to take her place."

My father is shaking his head.

I'm so confused by it all.  I try to snap out of the pain from the cut.  I snap to it and look over at Cupid.

I finally manage to talk to ask one question.

The one question that is aching my head.

i whisper the words "Who is she?"

"Aphrodite, the goddess of love," Cupid states, "Our mother."

 

 

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