Twisted

This is a work in progress. I love mythology: Greek, Roman, Norse,Egyptian, Babylonian (especially Babylonian) and many more. For a while I considered writing a collection of paranormal fantasy stories with each concentrating on individual mythologies and deities. However, I then thought “what the hell” let’s mix them all up.

So Mythinia was born. A M C Escher styled world that turns, shifts and changes as the world moves on its axis.

Isabella – Bella and Bells to her friend (or Izzy to Wyll), is half mortal, half Lars, and much to her dismay that makes her a dens daimones. A tooth fairy. Wherever she goes, she leaves a mark. And when her appearance at the fairy court winter ball results in Nyx holding the fairies hostage and killing them one by one.

Only Izzy can stop her, well, Izzy and a group of questionable ‘soldiers’ – including Loki, Queen Gwendolen, Atalanta and Wyll. You’d recognise him by the name of Merlin …

I’ve included a raw unedited taster. Please note: this is for ADULTS, and not a young reader. Strong language from the onset.

 

***

Now, over the years I’ve appeared in many different guises; I’ve had wings, pointed ears, low flowing robes, even a halo when I’ve entered the mortal realm, but this outfit was the worst. I blame Glenda, the good witch. Well, fuck you, Glenda.

I trudged towards the portal with my pass gripped tightly in my hand and my sequinned tooth pouch, I know, don’t ask.

“All right Bella? Off collecting?” I nodded at T, the giant who guarded our portal, hardly a position to be proud of, but it was his punishment for pissing off one of the big-wigs, seriously, who throws mountains? I never voiced my opinion though, T was tight with Wyll, and everyone is in someone’s pocket here.

“Yeah, New York.” I handed him my pass and he punched the top corner with his nail. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.”

As I stepped through and materialised in England I swore again. It was dark, cold and raining: what a surprise. Stepping out of the circular gateway I transported myself to New York and covered my form in a clear illusion. Time to get to work.

By the time I got to the third house, I was severely pissed off. I’d missed the first two by a wisp of dragon’s breath, in fact, I’d seen Pip grin at me as he’d disappeared. I was still dreaming of punching the grin off his face when I heard a small voice:

“What are you?”

Swearing, I turned around and stared at a mortal boy, gazing up at me from under his blankets.

“What’s ‘fuck’?” he asked.

I was in a whole heap of shit. I’d been too angry at Pip to think about my illusion. Instead, a five foot three sparkly yet scowling fairy stood in the centre of the room.

“I’m the tooth fairy, gimme your tooth.” I held out my hand and he lay there staring at me.

“You’re not a fairy, they have wings.”

Fuck me. Really, kid? Sighing I concentrated on my illusion and sprouted a nice pair of wings that would have made the sickliest of Disney fanatics orgasm.

“Happy? Hand over the pearly, kid.”

“Do you grant wishes?” He sat up now and reached under his pillow and pulling out a clenched fist, opening I could have laughed. Three gorgeous little teeth sat nestled on his chubby palm.

“Kid, for those, I’ll grant you a wish.” I lied, I wouldn’t grant any wish. In a second I’d knock him out, wipe his memory, leave him a few dollars and then fuck off.

“I really want mommy and daddy to stop arguing, can you make them happy again?”

Oh for fuc… smart move kid, play on my soft side. Sneaky little gremlin. It’s an expression, he’s not really a gremlin, well, I don’t think so, I mean, they do like to take on a childlike form. I pushed that thought to one side.

“Why aren’t they happy?” I learned against his desk and fiddled with the lego creation, accidentally snapping off the wing to a plane. Glancing up, I guiltily pushed it to one side and cocked my head. “Hurry up, I haven’t got all night.”

“Daddy’s lost his job, they won’t stop fighting.”

See? Economy problems again, I crossed my arms and concentrated, the mortal world disappeared and I saw everything in the colours and magic of Mythinia, the emotions of the mortals, the touch of magic and residual trails of our kind. Someone had visited here recently, I could smell it now. Ah fuck me, it was Achlys. That stupid hag, I checked the wide-eyed boy, nope, definitely human.

“I’ll be right back.” I said the words, but I couldn’t hear them. Not on this plane. Walking through the walls I saw his mum and dad asleep in the bed, the touch of Achlys crawled over them both, they were covered in a thick, green gloop.

Watching them I saw the infection spread and slide over their bed, they lay back to back without touching. I couldn’t remove her touch; but I could semi-grant the kid’s request. Pulling on my Lares heritage I granted his wish for them to be happy. My own magic snaked across the gloop, stopping it dead and slowly consuming it, I didn’t know if it was enough, but it was all I could do.

“It’s done, your mum and dad should stop arguing.” I returned to the mortal plane and held out my hand expectantly. “Now, cough up.”

“Do I get some money too?” He handed me his teeth and I carefully tucked them away.

“Sweet Nymph’s titties, you ask a lot.” I pulled out a wad of notes. Oh, didn’t I explain? Yeah, we have to buy your currency out of our iron pieces, nothing is free in our world. “Five ok?”

“I had five for one tooth last time.” His face dropped and I sighed again.

“Ok, I’ll give you ten. You had a wish too, remember?” What was I doing? Negotiating with a human child; I was losing it.

“Ok, cool.” As I handed him the notes I muttered a spell and he face-planted his mattress, dollars tightly grasped in his hand, he was fast asleep. This was the part I loathed, leaning forward I kissed his forehead, wiping any memory of me from his mind. Standing, I wiped my mouth and grimaced: still, I had three teeth and was back on track. Three steps closer to freedom.

 

I hated skulking around in the shadows, never knowing who was listening and waiting; and believe me, there was always someone watching.

“You there, Bells?”

“Of course I am.” I felt him grope my arm and run his touch down to my hand, entwining his fingers in mine. “You’re late.” I’m pissed off.

“Dad wanted to go over the accounts, took longer than expected.”

“And? How much longer till we can get out of this shithole?” He went quiet, and I felt the grip on my hand loosen. For fuck’s sake! “Seriously, Spike, how much more do you need?”

There was a pause before he whispered: “Forty six thousand.” I felt my world drop away and the thick air suddenly choked me, it was either the air or a ghoul, and I didn’t feel the presence of any unclaimed souls floating around here.

“Forty six thousand?” I echoed him. I had no smart mouthed reply. “What price did Wyll set?”

“Two hundred and forty thousand, the cost of three licences.”

“Fuck me.”

Let me explain, it doesn’t matter how rich a citizen of Mythinia becomes, or how noble, how pure and idolised, if you don’t have the support and approval of your parents – you are no-one and lower than the scummiest criminal. I’d rather face Typhon himself than disobey my mother –her trio of buddies would be on me quicker than a Swan on the queen of Sparta (I had to be careful what I say, that particular big-wig doesn’t like to be gossiped about).

“I know, I didn’t want to tell you how high it was. He didn’t offer me a blood-bond, I begged for one, but Wyll wasn’t interested.”

“Son of a dog-faced, shit-sucking …” I stopped abruptly, another fairy was nearby. “We’re not alone.”

“I know, I feel it too.” he replied, kissing me on the cheek he let go of my hand. “We can do this, Bells. We’ll find a way.”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t drum up enthusiasm, and after he left I stood there for a long time staring at the cobbled streets.

There was no point in drowning in melancholy though, instead, I intended to bask in sweet satisfaction: and there was only one thing that would cheer me up.

Stomping from the back-alley and into the firefly lit streets, I side-stepped a pack of errant miniature ponies with ease and glared up at the grandiose building that Wyll called home. Right in the middle of the city; prime location, it reached towards Olympus with arrogance, I couldn’t wait for the day he pissed off the big-wigs. I’d pay to have a front row seat at his arse kicking.

“Name.”

A huge plate-sized hand pushed against my chest and I blinked at the one eye that looked down on me. I’d been cheerily fantasising about slapping Wyll about that I hadn’t paid any attention to the building doorman.

“Virgil, it’s me.”

“Appointment only now Bella, Wyll’s a busy man.” The cyclops scanned the clipboard in front of him. “You’re not listed, Bells … I can’t …oh, wait.”

He frowned and paused, I sensed the magic before I saw it, a thin purple haze shot through the sky from the top floor and covered his clipboard, forming my full name: Isabella gens Julia. Yes, that family. And no, I don’t talk about it.

“Looks like I’m expected.”

I couldn’t be smug with Virgil, I loved the big oaf too much to hurt his feelings; he fell out with ‘the Swan’ centuries ago over a dice game. Swan bet his thunderbolt and lost, instead of coughing up the goods – he banished Virgil to Mythinia; seems a bit harsh to me, but fuck it, not for me to get involved.

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