Sisyphus (2)

“What will happen to the Sun if Apollo dies?”

III. The Grimrites

A lurid yellow light blanketed the landscape, though muted as an old bulb. There seemed to be more smoke than air, as if something, someone was burning right next to me. Looking up again, I realized what I saw from before wasn’t Stars nor Moon, but the LEDs they use at sport stadiums.

“Where are we?” – I asked.

“Dome 0, codename Olympus. The source of the Corruption, and the headquarters of your worshippers.”  - Sisyphus was digging his fingers into the stone. Apparently, it took him five days to dig to where I was, but he guaranteed the way up would be much quicker.

“Worshippers…” - I shook my head and almost chuckled.

“The world has changed, Death.” – As he said this, Sisyphus made a big leap to grab a rock jutting out of the cliff. I suddenly felt weak.

“Have I been drinking Styx water again?”  - Everything was spinning, and I felt something I’ve never experienced before: a headache.

“Lady Nyx informed me of this, that your divinity might not be as it was. Humans, I’m afraid, have forgotten Death.” – He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

I was thankful Sisyphus brought me some clothes. The black hoodies and joggers and boots were comfortable and warm, all the better to notice the chills from inside. I tried to conjure a shadow, but besides making my headache worse, nothing came.

“Do you know any of these worshippers?” – I chose to focus on another subject.

“I used to.” – There was melancholy in his voice, a sadness reserved for those who passed away. But that shouldn’t be the case since me, Death, wasn’t there.

“Where are they now?”

“They gave up, turned themselves to Husks.” – Sisyphus’s gaze was now an ardent fury, the very same he had when he talked about Zeus. The term had angered him, and I felt some of the flame was directed towards me. He hid this by climbing faster, reaching a hole resembling a mine shaft.

I didn’t have to ask what “Husks” were. Within the mine, carrying pickaxes and shovels, were living corpses shuffling about, their withered limbs moving in an obscene dance, some of them I realized didn’t have skin. There were two teams here, the ones that dug, and the ones that hung up what seemed to be leather on the wall.

“Zombies? Did my absence created a Zombie Outbreak?” – To be honest, I couldn’t contain my excitement.

“More or less. Immortality was never meant for humans. You either succumb to Madness, or upload your brain into the Internet and leave your shell of a body behind. Husks. On the plus side, they are the cheapest of labor you can find. Even if they fall to the bottom… - Sisyphus casually plucked and threw a Husk out of the cave – they will heal and find their way back.”

His nonchalance toward violence was oddly comforting. Sisyphus put me down and took a sip of water from a flask in his backpack. After wiping sweat from his brows, he kneeled and offered his shoulder once more.

“Once second, Prince. I want to try something.” – I said and stepped toward a female Husk and raised a hand.

Unlike the attempt with shadows, with the soulless corpse in front of me I felt a delicate thread of life, and knew the results of cutting it. I also knew how weak I’ve become. Back then, I could feel the Life of every living being on Gaea while playing Tetris. Now, I’d to concentrate just to feel one. I toyed around with the idea of killing her when a moaning caught my ears. It was coming not from the Husk, but the leather roll she was putting on the wall. Looking around, I saw more of them, the newer sheets flesh-coloured, while older ones mottled here and there with mould. They weren’t wallpaper. They were humans.

“They have to deal with overpopulation somehow.” – Sisyphus said, the effort of not putting any feelings into the sentence made his pitch a tad higher than normal. He was still humans in the end.

“Clever, very clever. Do they make different shapes?” – It was getting better by the minute.

“You’ll see.” – The Prince ignored my enthusiasm, still kneeling.

“Do you have anything to cut in that backpack of yours?”

He handed me a kitchen knife, one so well-sharpened it could cut stones. I quickly ran over to grab it and return to the Husk, slashing her belly. Her papery skin gave way, and a few lumpy organs, surprisingly fresh, spilled out of it. She paid me no mind except for an annoyed groan and went back to work without a hitch. It was business as usual for the remaining zombies in the mine shaft, too. I was half expecting they would at least attack, swarmed on me like those old RPGs, but their idleness dampened my mood a little. No matter, this was merely a teaser. And I happily returned to Sisyphus, knife in hand pointed upwards, ready for things to come.

“Have all of my worshippers turned to Husks, Sisyphus?”

“Most. There was a time they were the biggest organization in the World, calling themselves the ‘Grimrites.’ They were there before your tantrum, believing everyone should sooner die than later. They started growing rapidly when you were gone, blaming technology and science and healthcare for increasing people’s lifespan. But after the thousandth maidens came out of the volcano unscathed, the Grimrites turned back to being a cult.”

“And you knew them how?”

“I used to throw some maidens down volcanoes.” – He laughed.