Sting of Betrayal

There is a community center of where he fine citizens of Kitsap County gather to enjoy the prosperity of life. It is in this community center were the best of mens' hearts bear fruit, The locals came together to build this but they didn’t stop there. They continue to give their time so the children, and the community itself, continue to thrive.

The children are enchanting by the words from Bantu. A man who spends his Saturdays telling stories from all over the world. While he is much older than most who frequent this establishment, he hails from Africa and has traveled much of the world. A walking book capable of citing any story from any era, enchanting anyone lucky enough to hear.

The manager of the dining area walks over to Michael, “Please give this to Bantu.”

“Of course.”

Michael Takes the plate and moves over to Bantu, evading the scatter of excited children.

“Does anything sound better than the joy of children?”

“Only the joy of going home to the ones we love."

A smirk graces Bantu’s face.

“Your right, but lets not forget the joy that comes from a child's laughter has the ability to enlighten rooms. You good sir, do wonders with your stories. I bet Saturday storytelling has to be the one thing they wait for each and every week.”

“You give me too much credit. I merely tell stories. It takes a village to raise a child.” Bantu points to two men off to the side.

A young man is engaged with a father.

“I am a scholar, why do I need to build strength?”

“ Because you must be able to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.” the man said with a chuckle.

“How can I carry the whole world?” The young man exclaimed!

“Easy, like this!” With enthusiasm the man turned to his wife and hoisted her on his right shoulder. Then putting his left arm at a 90-degree angle, his two sons grabbed on with glee, lifting his children into the air, the family laughed with smiles ear to ear.

Bantu continued, “With a village like this, it is easy for children to run with joy.”

“Thank you for the food, young man.”

“You’re welcome.”

Bantu pauses for a moment, “I have known you for well over a year, but never had the opportunity to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I volunteer as one of the EMT’s on site. I have listened to many of your stories, it reminds me of when my mother would read to me.” Michael’s eyes drift off, he seems to be recollecting.

After a moment, Bantu asks “What stories fascinate you?”

Michael’s attention returns to the present. After a moment, he responds “I have always enjoyed the myths of history, those bigger than life moments. The legends of men triumphing over everything that stands in their way.”

“Legends you say,” Bantu pauses, “I have noticed your forearm, that is from your deceased wife, yes?”

On Michael’s left arm is a wristband, crocheted by Madison. It is black with a white cross that has a golden edge. “Yeah. it is.”

“What do you know about Medusa?”

Caught off guard, Michael gestures some confusion, then responds. “How does the cross relate to a Greek monstrosity?”

Smirking with excitement, Bantu knew he hit curiosity gold. “Well, that story is used for the local tourists. The story of Medusa’s tragedy may also register with those seeking to redeem her, but they both miss the mark. Great introductions but they leave out the exciting moments of our history.”

Curiosity, what a gift and curse of the human race. Something that captivates the mind and may drive men to action. It now has sunk its fangs in Michael. In what way could Judaeo-Christian be connected to Greek mythology?

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious, mind telling me how the cross is connected to Medusa.”

“Well it's not, but an old friend of heaven is. What do you know of the story of Vlad the Impaler?”

“Medusa, Christianity, now Dracula? I feel like a kid on Christmas. I know there are varying stories, but in a sense, Vlad sought out the devil to make a deal. He was given immortality but needed to feed off others to sustain it. Either way, Vlad became Dracula, a soul damned for eternity.” Michael tilts his head to the right, giving a glare. “So, what, Lucifer paid a visit to Medusa?”

Bantu leans back with a smile reaching ear to ear. “There are more to the legends than many people realize. Goa head and take a seat, I will happily share the story of Medusa before the kids get back. We wouldn’t want to scar them now, would we?”

Michael sits on the ground and prepares for what he is about to hear.

~ Beginning~

Medusa wasn’t always a monster, but rather a victim of fate. Medusa was a beautiful priestess of the goddess Athena. Rumor has it, she was even the head priestess. She led with beauty and grace.

Athena has always been in competition with Poseidon, they are practically polar opposites. In fact, they fought to be patron deity over the city of Athens. After the citizens of Athens selected Athena, Poseidon’s pride was particularly wounded. Poseidon planned on how he would take his revenge.

One night, he was standing outside, looking at the temple of Athena in Athens, bitterly mumbling to himself. It was then when he noticed a priestess walking the temple grounds. As Medusa walked into the main temple, Poseidon gave way to his attack. No deceit or strategy, just overwhelming force.

There are conflicting stories, one says the priestess seduced Poseidon, others saying he forced that night. Either way, the act was carried out and the temple desecrated. The purity of the temple was lost, and Athena was stained. Whether she was sinister, or a victim, it does not matter for Athena punished Medusa. She was stripped of all her beauty and made into the first Gordon. Of course, Poseidon wasn’t done, he sent whispers into the city, informing the citizens of the monster defiling the holy temple. The citizens of Athens marched to slay the beast. It was in this event that Medusa fled the city and the temple was razed.

While in exile, King Polydectes would send Perseus to kill Medusa. Athena even gave this man an item to help him prevail in the battle. It is here people have come to expect Medusa’s demise. Atlas, she would narrowly escape death losing an eye in the process.

While there are conflicting reports of what happened with Perseus, and his claims of having Medusa’s head, that is for another time.Medusa would slither off into the desolate land.

~ Fateful meeting ~

While wandering aimlessly, the loss of life stings one’s soul. This cut bleeds when there is betrayal while being innocent. The despair that comes often leaves us vulnerable to those who would take advantage of others.

As life faded from her eyes, a young man would appear before her. This young man was handsome, rivaling that of the gods themselves. He carried himself proudly.

“Life is a cruel mistress, the sea isn’t any better. How can it be someone as pure as you could suffer the horrors of which this world holds?” The young man kneels down, placing his right hand gently on Medusa’s left cheek.

“What would you do if you had but a second life?” The young man smiled, not of charity, but of evil. He wanted something, but his focus was on what Medusa wanted.

“I gave her everything, her followers everything.”

“You're right, and what did they give you in return?” The tone of the young man was focused, words chosen carefully to bring out a specific response.

“They gave me nothing….” With what looks to be a few tears attempting to form in her lifeless eyes, “They took everything.” Medusa began to wail in agony, with a dry face too weak to form tears.

“My dear don’t cry, beautiful women must not cry.”

“Beautiful??? I’m a monster!!” Medusa screamed, her despair ever so present.

“Jealousy in the hearts of men brings out the worst in us. Do not let those project their shortcomings unto you. My dear I see a beauty that rivals the stars themselves.

The young man places his right arm behind Medusa to support her. “Allow me to take you to a place of healing. There is a temple nearby. There they can help treat you of the pains you suffer.”

It has been years since Medusa felt like someone cared for her.With a sorrowful tone, she beckoned to the young man, at which he lifted her up in his arms.

“Please don’t forsake me, please…”

“Don’t worry, this time won’t be like the last. I will show you your beauty and your worth. You will shine brighter than you did back home.”

Medusa began to curl up, scared and in pain, she would embrace anyone or anything that could end her suffering.

As Bantu continued with the story, the room began to fill with the noise of children rushing for their next story.

Bantu laughs, “well Michael, I guess we will have to pause here but don’t worry. We can finish this another time. One where we don’t have to worry about little ears.”

“I will hold you to that!” Michael exclaimed, consumed by curiosity.

“Imagine a life where good things go sour, and when we are consumed by despair, a man appears in the nick of time. A man who says all the right words, garnering up specific emotions almost as if he was creating an outcome only he would benefit from. The devil has always been in the shadows waiting. Medusa’s story is no different.”

“I can’t say I believe you, but I want to see this through.”

~ Author's note ~

I enjoyed brainstorming this challenge, and I hate how work has consumed the last two weeks. I look forward to finishing this for anyone interested. For those who do read what I have started, I hope you enjoy it and return to my page when I finish this endeavor. I bid you all a wonderful 2025.