The Wager- BBW Erotic Curvy Paranormal Romance (TOUCH OF THE GODS) (27 page)

After Calvin paid the bill, we hugged. The embrace Willa and I had lasting longer.

They headed to their vehicles and I realized I didn't want to do this alone. Turning, I called out to them, stopping them before they could leave and rushed up to where they waited. “Please, come home with me. I can't do this on my own.”

              “Of course, sis. Do you want me to call Mom and Dad?”

             
“No, they couldn't handle this. They're fine with the choice, but I know they wouldn't want to watch me pass.”

             
Willa nodded at me.

  Lovingly, Calvin placed his hand on my shoulder.

When I looked at these two special people in my life, I knew that I could do this.

Together, with them following behind me, we drove toward my home. Hoping they didn't mind, I decided to take the scenic route, memorizing everything about my hometown. I sighed at how I never really fit in there. Then, once I reached my house, I sat in my vehicle, running my hands over the steering wheel. Even with the acceptance of my choice, it was hard to let go. I jumped when Calvin tapped my driver side window, giving him a shaky grin I got out of the car, took a deep breath and headed inside.

              I made it as far as the stairs and paused as they seemed to loom above me. I swayed with sudden dizziness, and was grateful when I felt the strong grasps of my loved ones upon my arms. I had the urge to summon Hephaestus, but like my parents, he would have a hard time handling my death. Especially, knowing he'd not be able to go where I was going. No, this would have to be something I did without him by my side. Lifting my chin, there was no more time to hesitate, no more second thoughts, or doubts.

Together, we walked up the stairs, step by step, and once I sat on the bed, I was truly ready while holding their hands. Finally releasing them, I pulled the small, glass vial out of the drawer. The moment my hand palmed it, it warmed and beckoning voices called to me. Swallowing past the lump that suddenly formed in my throat, I uncapped it, watching a golden cloud swirl out of the cylindrical tube, the smell sweet and alluring. Steadying my hands, I brought it to my lips but paused, my mind filling with questions. What would it taste like? How would it feel to die? Where did I go once I did?
Stop it, Vanessa!

             
Sucking in a deep, calming breath, I closed my eyes, steeled my nerves and tossed back the liquid inside. Thicker than milk, but smoother than a malt shake, it was actually cool as it slid down my throat. The flavor changed from my Mom's grilled cheese sandwiches, to the cafe's chocolate pizza and all of my favorite foods. It was pretty good and once it settled in my stomach, I waited for the pain to start, but nothing came. I peered into the bottle to see if I drank it all and seeing it empty, I started to worry that I waited too long for it to work. Did ambrosia lose its potency?

Cursing, I stood and was about to toss the blasted thing in the waste can, but before I reached it, I froze as my veins felt as though they were being coated in ice shards.

              “Vanessa? Sis? Calvin, do something!”

             
“I don't know what to do! Lay her down, I guess.”

             
“Maybe try to call Hephaestus. He'd be able to help.”

             
There was a long pause, but I was far too gone to object. The pain was just so damn unbearable.

“Hephaestus!” Calvin's voice rose in panic.

I knew the summons wouldn't work before he said anything.

             
“He didn't answer, Willa. This is not what I was expecting!”

             
While I struggled to gulp in air, I felt the chill starting to ride up my legs. When they reclined me back, I saw that my skin had turned golden. At first, I thought it was a shimmering glow, but when Willa touched it, then tapped her knuckles against me, it clanged. I wasn't just dying. I was turning into a frozen sculpture of gold!

The excruciating pain was unlike anything I’d ever experienced and as I reached my hand up to my sister, the small movement felt as though glass was ripping through every muscle and tendon.

Willa held me tight, as Calvin sat beside me, his eyes spilling tears down his face while he stroked the hair from my face.

Inch by inch, the icy grip of metallic gold spread over my body, while internally my organs dissolved. And yes, I could feel all of it. I guess when it came to becoming an eternal being; they wanted you to always remember the pain of mortality. That way, you'd never take humanity for granted

Though my vision dimmed and my hearing became that similar to drowning in a well, I could still hear their voices.

Willa started telling me one of our favorite memories, the one when Graeme had been born. “Do you remember how fat he was? I remember thinking he was a human turkey. But you, oh Nessa, you thought he was the sweetest, cutest baby of all. You were such a great big sister to us both.”

              My limbs had grown heavy and Willa dropped my hand as it was coated in the gold ice, but I smiled at her weakly, before the darkness clouded my vision. I took my last breath. It squeezed out in a white, puff of air and all was quiet. I waited for the white light, the one that was spoken of in every movie I watched, but there was nothing but well… nothing.

Weightless, I floated down and after minutes of pure silence, I started to hear the whispers of odd voices surrounding me. The further I dropped, the louder and angrier the sounds became. When I hit a solid, cold ground, not only were there echoes of rage, but the frustrated grasps of boney fingers trying to rip me apart. I still couldn't see what was happening around me. I couldn't even stand to my feet as my limbs suddenly weighed a ton, so I opted for the next best thing… I screamed. Shouting, my throat started to get sore and I feared I would lose my voice before anyone came to help me, but then the offenders around my body were pulled away. Their angry words were replaced with the cheesiest, most ridiculous sounding game show music I had ever heard and I was sure I was officially losing it.

              “A new soul? Well hello, and come on down!”

What the hell?

Out of the darkness, bright, multi-colored lights rotated around three circles, numbered. A very busty, golden haired beauty stood with her hands pointed to the first door, while her electric blue, sequined dress blinded me with its trashiness. From first sight, it seemed I died and landed in the 1970's. Startled, I peered down at my clothing and was still dressed in modern day attire.

Behind me, boisterous applause rose to almost a deafening pitch. It startled me to my feet, my eyes widening at the large stadium of what appeared to be ghost-like souls sitting in audience seats and wearing various costumes. In front of me, the woman still gestured to the doors and next to them, was a band of… bats? No, they were women. Wait, they were both, bat and woman, their wrinkled faces drawn up in pointy smiles. In their clawed fingers, they held instruments which meant they were a band?  They played upbeat music while their leathery wings flapped, creating an odd farting sound in their wake.

However, out of all the weirdness, the brightly smiling man next to the podium took the cake. “Come on, little soul. Time to play! Furies, strike up the music!” His voice was deep, but loud, booming from the thin microphone he held in his hand.

Slowly, I approached the dais that now rose from the center of the room and standing on it, I waited as he approached. The man had a bounce to his step, a prancing almost, as he made his way over to where I stood. Once he was close, I got a very good look at him in all his bizarre glory.

What I first believed to be a large grin on his macabre face was in fact, his lips being drawn up by thick fish hooks that were attached to the backs of his ears. The metal cut into his flesh and though it looked dreadfully painful, the lusty glint plastered upon his plastic like face told a different tale. The neon stripes of his leisure suit enhanced the pale white that was his emaciated skin, which was covered in darker scars, lashes and welts. His hair was slicked back and long, but those eyes, or shall I say a lack thereof was what left me cold inside.

Staring up into their empty depths, I felt hopeless and I knew at that moment, I was standing before darkness himself. This man, who turned briefly, allowing me to see that his hair was actually a thick, braided rope laced between hoops which were pierced through his back, was the lord of the underworld - Hades.

The God of Death went back to stand behind his podium, waving his hand to the bimbo by the doors, and the music died down enough for me to hear him speak. Not that it was hard, considering he only had one volume… loud. “Welcome to the Underworld! The only game show that begins when you end! I'm your host, Hades! Please state your name and why you're here!”

              The crowd grew quiet and I jumped back when a microphone stand popped out of the ground, the feedback hurting my ears and causing the band members to cringe.

All eyes were on me.

I cleared my throat, stepped forward and tried my best not to sound as terrified as I felt. “Uh, my name is Vanessa and I think I'm in the wrong place.”

             
“Wrong place?” he replied. “There is no mistakes in death, little girl. So, let's see what door you'll take? Barbie? Show her the doors!”

             
“No! Wait, you don't understand---”

             
The music struck up again, the souls chanting and my pleas fell on deaf ears.

Hades danced similar to the Godfather of Soul, while I was left to watch dumbfounded and pretty damn annoyed.

Barbie, as they called her pressed a button, which opened all three doors and with each one, the choices became even more frightening.

The first door was filled with buff, oil slicked men, spouting gigantic hard-ons and all of them wearing an inviting a smile. They stood next to massage tables while Hades announced that they were for a euphoric, relaxing forever holiday. The second door was a corn field, except the corn was black and covered in unblinking eyes. Hades explained this was for those who decided they just didn't care and the choice was for beings that have might riden horses and used guns. 

Finally, the third door opened to reveal nothing but a world of eternal suffering. Grotesque torture devices of rusted metal which were all attached to a pleading soul and their screams filled the game show room, until covering my ears they were muted by a remote that appeared in Hades' hand.

He turned to face me, his face glowing with satisfaction and I couldn't help but wonder if he went into that level often, considering the masochistic way his body was pierced. “So, Vanessa! Which door will be for you? Say it with me, folks! Let’s- Deal- For- Death!”

              The crowd chanted the title with him, while the scary band women played their instruments like mad. Hades nearly ran over to a large wheel, handing his mic over to the boobalicious Barbie woman, and then he reached up high, the hooks pulling his grin even wider.

Do it! Do it!
Chanted the souls in costumes while his dark sockets stared me down.

Suddenly, I knew that if I didn't get out of my frozen state of fear, I would end up in the torture chamber, never getting my trial and never see Hephaestus again.
              Pushing up on the glowing circle to give it more momentum, I ran forward almost in slow motion and before he could let it go, I screamed as loud as my lungs could push out. “Stop! I'm here for the trial to become an immortal.”

             
The crowd froze, then an orchestra of boos followed.

I had to dodge behind Barbie when food and other trash items started flying toward the stage. Glancing at Hades, I could see he was angry, but with his permanent smile, his rage was almost indiscernible. Finally, he turned away from me, waving his hand until all that was left was the black, corn field.

I stood alone in a spot marked with a hammer symbol. Just as I was about to make a move forward, the rattling of chains clinked above me.

Hades descended by metal links that were attached to the rings in his back. Once he landed on his feet, wearing only leather pants, I saw the true suffering that he put his body through. Crooked nails pierced his nipples, old and fresh welts, wrapped over his skeletal form. All in all, the lord of the underworld was a hot mess. He held up his hand, stopping me from any movement I would have made. “You are here, so you must stay put. No sitting, moving or stretching. To prove your worth, you must suffer the last of your mortality. If you pass the three trials, you shall join the ranks of the gods. If not, you will stay with me and I'll get to choose your place of rest.”

              Despite being eyeless, I knew if he had them the sadistic gleam would be so bright, I'd probably go blind. I just knew that if I failed, I'd be sent through the third door of torture and pain, therefore failure was not an option. Yet, the very thought of standing in place, not moving, sleeping or even taking a piss, seemed daunting, if not impossible. As though he read my mind, which being a god, he possibly did, Hades interrupted my doubtful thoughts.

             
“You will be given food and drinks. Unless something stops that, sleep will not come, but you will not feel tired. For the trial, you will stay here for one hundred days and will be visited by three gods chosen for you. No other will come for you, not even I. Understand?”