This is all that I’ll ever know, inside of this heart that’s lost its hope.
(𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘤𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘮 𝘐 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘸? 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘕𝘰, 𝘪𝘵’𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩.)
—
Artemis is trapped in a cage, terrified and alone.
...Though, they may not be as lonely as they think.
A dark void.
Sightless— because they were blind. Atlas had taken their vision, the thing they relied on most. Their head pounded, their heart throbbed, they could feel the blood pooling around their face. It was sticky and gross. But they couldn’t be bothered to get up.
Artemis was still. Cold and quiet, like a corpse. This void, it had no feeling, no sensations. Even the stickiness of their blood felt distant, like a memory.
It was torture.
Senseless.
The Heart. The emotion, the feelings. Artemis was supposed to feel, it was their job, all they were meant to do, all they were good at. And here, in this hell, they couldn’t even do that. A low, pathetic noise— something between a whine and a cry, they weren’t sure— emanated from their throat.
They sat up. Instantly, they regretted it, getting dizzy and struggling to stay upright. Their wings flapped aimlessly as they nearly toppled over again. There wasn’t even any air resistance—they couldn’t feel the breeze in their feathers, they couldn’t tell if there was breath in their lungs. They felt disgusted, disgusting, the urge to simply crawl out of their own skin was nauseating.
They reached up, dragging their fingers across their face. The blood flow somehow stopped already, leaving dried patches. They slowly peeled off some of it, and felt a bit more wet blood that was trapped underneath. The slick, smooth sensation was heavenly compared to the sticky patches from before.
Artemis went still again, letting the blood trickle down, before scraping off another patch.
And another. And another. And another. And another. And—
Soon they were frantically scratching at their face, nails digging into fresh skin, almost autonomously. The blood running down their face felt warm now.
They paused. Their hoodie felt heavy, restricting. They frantically pulled it off, throwing it aside. Their hands, shoulders, arms, torso, it was all too clean. There was nothing. They felt nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing—
A strangled screech escaped their lips as they clawed at every inch of skin they could find, desperate for any sort of sensation. They felt every tear, every scratch, every new pinprick of blood. They felt. Their manic giggle cut through the silence.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Footsteps? Artemis froze, head turning in every direction, with no result. The footsteps came closer. They were calm and steady, a stark contrast to how Artemis felt.
”/Artemis?/”
A voice. Light and airy, with a strange accent. It held a note of concern. More worryingly, they knew Artemis’ name.
Artemis drew in a shaky breath. “(Who..?)” They murmured, unable to think of anything else.
Artemis heard fabric rustling nearby, and a gentle hand on their shoulder. Cold. Again, a stark contrast. “/I am Melinoë. Why… are you here?/“ She asked, her tone soft and comforting.
“(…Atlas sent me. I… I made a mistake. I need to be punished,)” They whispered, starting to shake as they remembered the events prior. They felt another hand carefully brush their hair out of their face, then drift down to their chin, tilting their head up.
“/You did not deserve that, little moon,/“ She whispered. “/It is cruel and unjust to send anyone to this place./“ Silence. “/You’re hurt, dove. May I help?/“
It was an offer.
Artemis nodded, slowly. “(Please.)”
Melinoë’s hands slowly retreated, and Artemis heard more rustling. A soft cloth was slowly pressed against their face, cleaning off the blood. It was pulled away for a moment as Artemis made a small, pained noise. “/Are you alright?/“
“(…Yeah. Keep going.)”
She obliged, continuing to clean their wounds, needing to switch cloths at one point. “/I cannot bandage you, but there’s no chance for infection here. But… be careful, still./“ Melinoë gently cupped Artemis’ face. “/…Do not believe Atlas’ lies. You deserve nothing that has come to you. I do not know what happened, but it did not warrant this. Do you understand?/“ She said, firmly but kindly.
Artemis frowned slightly. “(But…)” Melinoë touched a finger to their lips, shushing them.
“/Hush, little moon. You are a kind soul. I can tell. Your brother lies./“ Her tone held slight bitterness as she mentioned Atlas. Artemis wondered if she knew of Helios, as well.
“(…Okay.)”