Marilyn stood naked on the rooftop as Cyrus and the strange girl just stared at one another. It felt like a showdown, a standoff between two Old West gunslingers, each ready to shoot the other dead in the street.
The new arrival even dressed like Cyrus. This Melinoe wore black pants, a gray blouse and a fitted long coat. But unlike Cyrus’s dark attire, her clothes seemed perfectly tailored. They clung to Melinoe’s body just the way the needed, accentuating her slick curves.
Her face was equally perfect, almost otherworldly. Under her slick cut of dark black hair, she had the face of a supermodel. She could walk any runway in the world and no one would bat an eyelash. Instead she was here, standing on a rooftop. It made no sense.
“Are you going to tell your whore to dress, brother?”
“She’s not a—”
Marilyn prided herself on being as civil as any person could. But she wouldn’t be denigrated, especially by some witch from out of nowhere. She would not be treated like someone’s toy, a simple plaything. Not now, not ever.
She lashed out at Melinoe. Her hand shaped in to a mallet as she charged. But the hammer never landed. Marilyn couldn’t even reach Melinoe.
The creatures came out of the rooftop. Their bodies flowed, malleable just like hers, but far more amorphous. Not human at all. The creatures of protoplasm rose up to block her, to hold her. To consume her.
They engulfed her body. Marilyn screamed and tried to fight off their attack. But they were all around her. She couldn’t even be sure how many. They trapped her in a circle, enclosed her. Even as she lashed out, they molded against her attacks.
But they didn’t really hold her. She realized their skin slowly melded with her own. She could struggle all she wanted, but it wouldn’t matter. Slowly but surely these monsters would subsume her. They would engulf her very being, destroy everything that made her human—or at least a facsimile of one.
“Cyrus, help me!”
“Melinoe, enough! You’ve terrified her, now let her go!”
“Oh, you’re no fun, little brother. Always so worried about these lowlies.”
The creatures vanished even more suddenly than they appeared. Marilyn stood on her own, still naked on the rooftop. The raven-haired girl seemed to pay her no heed at all. She focused on Cyrus completely, as if Marilyn was little more than a pet.
“What the heck is going on here, Cyrus?”
Cyrus didn’t look away from the woman that claimed to be his sister. “This is what I was trying to avoid, Marilyn. This is my half-sister Melinoe.”
“Half-sister?” Marilyn said.
“Our mother had an affair with my uncle. It did not go over well with Dad, but they don’t really divorce where I come from.”
Melinoe laughed. “Oh so coy, brother. I will never understand why you treat these mortals as equals. They are barely gnats next to you.”
Mortals? Marilyn couldn’t begin to grasp this woman’s delusions. But she seemed to have a strange view of reality.
“Perhaps we should consult your sister’s doctor,” Marilyn said. “She seems confused.”
“She’s not confused,” Cyrus said. “She’s an immortal, a so-called goddess.”
He paused. Sighed. “Just like me.”
“A goddess,” Marilyn said. “I’m an amorphous being in the form of a long dead movie star and even I don’t believe that.”
Melinoe laughed again.
“See, brother? Their lowly minds don’t even comprehend what is before them. They are little more than beasts, here for our amusement.”
“You sound like your father,” Cyrus said. “If they are such lowly animals, are you going to take after him and start fucking bulls?”
Melinoe only laughed again. Marilyn could only watch the pair’s interactions unsure of any other action. But she knew she couldn’t continue to stand here naked.
With a thought, her dress reappeared like the second layer of skin it basically was. She still didn’t know what this woman had done to her mind to make her see those monsters, but she knew she would make Melinoe pay.
The wind ripped into Marilyn’s skin as they stood on the rooftop. Winter was coming. Though River City was known for its mild seasons, this year had already been unseasonably cold.
Neither Cyrus nor Melinoe seemed to feel it at all. The siblings just stared at one another. Neither even spoke. But from their stance, they way they watched each other, their near lack of movement, Marilyn knew they could go to war at a second’s notice.
He’s telling the truth. Or at least the truth as they see it. I’m standing with a god and goddess in front me.
Cyrus is a god.
A smile crossed her face. He certainly fucked like one.
Melinoe slowly raised both hands, an apparent sign of peace. “Come now, brother. Don’t be so tense. I’m not here to fight you. I am only here to keep an eye on you.”
“You never go anywhere just to do any one thing, Melinoe. You always have plans of your own.”
Melinoe smirked at this, but said nothing. The half-siblings stared at one another.
“What is this, Cyrus?” Marilyn’s question broke the uncomfortable silence. “What’s going on here?”
“This is what I was trying to avoid.”
“Avoid? Cyrus, what’s really going on?”
My family are bad people, Marilyn. Melinoe is a saint compared to my mother and father. After awhile, not even familial ties can make you ignore the horrors perpetrated by your parents. So I ran away. I’ve been running ever since.”
“I don’t understand,” Marilyn said. She glanced towards Melinoe. The dark haired woman just stood there, wrapping her long hair around her fingers.
Cyrus looked toward his half-sister as well. “I’ve already said too much. You already know far more than you should. In my world, knowledge is the most dangerous thing there is.”
“Your world? Cyrus, I can take care of myself. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I—”
Cyrus met Marilyn’s eyes. She narrowed them and met his look head on. Her intensity, her lack of fear, she projected it all towards him.
“I’m serious about being a god,” Cyrus said. “Or at least a relative of mythological beings. But I’m just another person, one that happens to live a damn long time.”
He shook his head. “But my family doesn’t feel the same way. They embrace their power and their ancient place. Though barely anyone treats them as anything more than fiction, they treat people like little more than property.
“Who?” Marilyn said. “Who are these parents of yours?”
“They go by many names, but you would know them as Pluto and Persephone, gods of the underworld.”
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