Kidnapped

When I opened my eyes, I found myself amongst the giants whose roots hugged the earth, and the streams and birds who sung a never-ending song. The richness of the life that dwelled in this forest made me feel at ease, enough to make me forget the knife that was held to my throat when I subconsciously stepped forward.

"I don't think so kid," Greene whispered into my ear.

Now's my chance.

I stopped thrashing and pretended to have fainted which made him support my weight. And am no feather.

I whipped my head back taking advantage of his startled self and following the sickening sound of bones cracking, his iron-grip loosened. With an easy shrug, I stepped away leaving him on his knees clutching his now bleeding nose. I maneuvered a jump-spin-hook-kick to knock him out cold before he could regain composure.

But due to my unrivaled bad luck, all that did not happen.

My attempt had utterly failed due to the failure of my head making contact with his nose; it had instead hit him across the chin, compliments, my short-height. So in truth, I am sitting cross-legged leaning back to a tree with my hands fastened with rough ropes behind me and more hurt than I had been which leaves me to wonder whether there were ways to sharpen one's jaw.

But he was kind enough to pat my shoulder in appreciation of my enthusiasm before examining a levitating map. Naturally.

I wished Hades could save me, even though I knew he wouldn't and couldn't, considering that it was the time of the day when the sun burnt in all its glory.

Will Will try?

I thought to myself and as you can see it's a trick question for I didn't know whether he was allowed outside the Underworld. So there was only one, a female hero that could save and she was me.

He had been through with all the binding and it took me a few minutes get even one knot undone. And as I did, I filled in Greene with a sob story and pleas.

"Please let me go. What have I ever done to you? Hades will never care about me; you are wasting your time. My family will be worried sick, my dog does to let anyone else feed it, and it will starve if I don't go back home." This lead to him no longer giving me as much attention.

"Have you no humanity left in you?" I sobbed heartbreakingly while working on the last of the knots. I rubbed my sore wrists that were painted in red lines while he faced away from me.

I remembered his ability to teleport as I looked for escape roots. But there did not seem to be an alternative than running. And so I quietly stood up and searched for a footpath, but there wasn't a trace of indication of the presence of humans ever stepping foot through these dark woods.

Great, just great.

My respect and admiration for ninjas raised a notch while my confidence fell to nill. For my legs made a crackling sound, and the wide range of dried leaves and twigs, which lay around as landmines set me up on an impossible obstacle course.

The memory of the knife carefully piercing the skin where no major blood vessels laid underneath made me believe that he didn't kill me.

But I came to a sudden stop on hearing a groan and the sound of someone falling down. I turned to see him lying on the ground, without a movement at his side.

Now was the perfect time for me to escape. I thought, but the same time my mind brought up the image of his twisted limbs like popup ads. It made me pause and think about whether he would die if I were to leave him alone.

Subconscious mind: you were always a softie.

Shut UP

Still, in defensive stance, I walked over carefully observing the light falls of his chest. If this was a trick, I wouldn't mind kicking him where it would hurt.

Picking up a twig I poked him.

Why did I poke him?

Holding him by the arms, I tried to turn him over which proved difficult for the guy had high bone weight when appearing lean. I unclasped the dagger from his belt and threw it away to a safe distance, but later wondered whether I would trip and fall over the same considering my list of misfortunes befalling on me.

Externally, he seemed fine and I would have run away thinking it was a trick if he hadn't flinched when I lifted his wrist. There were neither inflammations nor discolorations, or signs of fracture at the places that had been violently twisted, but he twisted and cried when touching his joints.

I couldn't think of any practical reasons for the ailment nor was any treatment that could make sense, for this inflicted by a God and not a humane weapon. Seeing that his condition disorienting by the second, I stood up and let my instincts take over as I looked around the nearby vegetations. I uprooted shrubs that grew in masses around an ancient tree and other plants that felt helpful.

It was all just a guess, nothing that I could guarantee for.

I screamed on falling forward when my left leg caught in a ditch. Removing the dirt sticking onto my face, I lifted up my leg watching regretfully as it swelled up pointing out a sprain.

On the way back, I was careful not to let the leg receive strain and sat down near my backpack that had been teleported with me. I had not prepared any bandages and so made thin strips out of my loose sweatshirt using a pair of scissors.

With its help, I packed the paste made of the gathered plants along the joints of his arms and legs. An hour later, I did not find any significant improvement which made me worry. Collecting the soft dry leaves, I arranged them around him, and as I did his eyes fluttered open for the first time.

"What are you doing?"

"Burning you alive," I answered expressionlessly but did not meet with the response I expected when he laughed. Is everyone crazy, or is it just me.

"Do you know how to heal your illness?" I asked still sporting a poker face.

"What happened to all the burning?" he asked.

"Don't be fooled, I am still going to burn you, no tell me if you know how to treat this." I hurriedly asked before my poker face could fall apart.

He nodded. "There's a white oval box." He pointed at a leather bag half hidden by the long blades of grass. Hopping over, I brought it back and found the box he mentioned. Seeing how weak he looked, I opened it for him and held it to his mouth. Its opaque semi-solid contents did not seem as bitter as it looked as he strained his neck up to take a sip.

"Will it help?"

Finishing up, he seemed grateful as he replied. "For now. Your Lord didn't strike with the intent to kill. I want to thank you too, for saving me then, and now." His deep green orbs were curious as they seem to look past skin and bones, at something within which left me vulnerable.

"It's been a while since I last saw a pure soul like yours."

I hid away the uncomforting feelings of being exposed and objected. "You are mistaken. The second you close your eyes, I will leave you as a peace offering to the bears around."

"Then why are you tending to my injury?" He raised his brows in question and amusement.

I smirked, already having a reply prepared. "They are not into dead meat."

He still chuckled. "Keep telling yourself that." It surprised me that this was the same person who threatened to kill me a few hours ago.

"Why did try to steal the soul even though you seemed to know that it was impossible?" I asked, tightening a loose end of the cloth. As I waited for the answer I realized that he had already fallen asleep. I sat by him for a few minutes before taking up the place I had been tied to.

Red hues spread across the sky as the afternoon blurred past and the time for the sun to hide away came. I passed the seconds deciding between the different names I came up for my kidnapper.

Greene was the first name I thought of, and it stuck throughout the battle between other creative names and finally emerged victorious. Well, his eyes were very eye-catching.

My stomach grumbled demanding food, and before it could tempt me into tasting the grass I grabbed Greene's bag. Savaging through the contents, my hands struck something smooth and brought it out. I opened the cap of the glass bottle and gulped down the liquid finding its taste funny.

Wait, what if it's poison? Nah poisons are usually violet or vile green.

When only a few teaspoons of the liquid remained, I stopped to admire the perfectly-shaped bottle, and on searching found that he possessed many such beautiful containers.

I looked at my discarded backpack and brought two of fingers to my forehead in concentration. "You are beautiful too." A telepathic message was sent.

"Don't tell me you drank that." He sat up with a sigh as he watched me swing around the bottle.

"I deed." I nodded, and not giving much thought about the pronunciation tried to stand up, but my legs did not seem to listen to the commands send by my brain.

"You drank it, didn't you?" When I tried to smile innocently he continued to let me know of the horrific truth. "That drink contained alcohol," he held in his laughter.

It hit me like a bucket full of cold water, but it did not sober me up for I struggled to regain my balance. I felt like a newbie trying out surfing with no surfboard or waves.

He looked upon me with laughter in his eyes. He knew like I did, "You are drunk." So very drunk. I wanted to strangle him for laughing, why were no labels on it that told that it was alcohol.

On trying to walk towards him, I swayed from left and right and no matter how much I tried could not seem to reach my destination. It was he that dragged himself over to the ball I curled up into, "It is okay, you will be back to normal in no time." He tried to console me.

"Will I?" I pointed at myself, uncurling. He nodded, "Is it your first time drinking alcohol?" He asked when my attention was stolen away by a ladybug that ran across the plains of my palm.

I looked up, "Yes. Don't like alhole."

"I am sorry, that you drank it because of me, and for that too." His eyes traveled down to my neck where the healing slice lay. Blowing off the insect, I gave him a thumbs up telling him that it was fine.

He was about to say something when the ground trembled from vibrations coming from within, and it cracked open a couple of feet away from where we sat.

Like seriously, seriously parted, you know like seriously, seriously, seriously parted. The stones danced in unison as a storm brew with us at its eye.

In a thundering roar of hooves, a chariot driven by four majestic horses sprang out.

And finally, the one responsible stepped out of his shiny black chariot.

"Aaedees"