STEADILY, STEALTHILY, MY QUIET FOOTSTEPS TRESPASSED ON ZEUS AND DEMETER'S FORBIDDEN GARDENS.

Zeus had no idea just how much I enjoyed walking on the land he forbid me from.

A flick of silent fingers produced a brilliant, glittering helm, heavily laden with embedded diamonds. It radiated literal tendrils of fear, meant only to be trusted by the owner alone.

My Helm of Darkness.

An instrument to render invisibility.

Great was the terror of the helm among the gods, even greater was the power it allowed the wearer to wield.

I walked along the shores and valleys of the turquoise blue river Cyane, lost in melancholic thought and justified anger at my brother.

Suddenly, a delicate voice wafted out from the fragrant confines of the garden.

"Please. Please stop touching me - my lord - please!" shrieked a young, feminine melody from behind the lily bushes, bristling and full of terror. The voice was wholly sweet even in fear, the higher octaves coated in honey. Dripping like silk butter, beckoning my senses to the unknown, unnamed owner of the voice.

My feet hurried faster along the young green grasses, trampling every inch of Demeter's meadow under concerned heels.

"Your mother won't know. You'll enjoy it, I promise," continued a male voice, impatient and harsh.

It belonged to my nephew. Apollo.

My pace quickened tenfold, looking for the source of the famished, feminine cries

"...take her to your chambers, Apollo," another male added with a scuffle, sounding much closer than before.

One step. Then another, and another and another.

The young lady's protests were slowly descending into anguished sobs of agony, each scream sending a jab through the hard skin covering my even harder flesh.

A careless sweep of my pale hand parted the slender, dancing daffodil stalks to the left. The shrieks came right from under Demeter's rocky cove carved of limestone and marbled granite.

I saw them.

And I saw her.

She was art.

Heartbreaking, breathtaking art.

A goddess. She was a goddess.

Goddess of the temple that was her holy body. I vowed to kiss that immortal shrine of hers until the end of my days.

And that was the moment when I knew I had to have her.

"I think the lady told you to leave her alone," I demanded quietly, voice low in the heavy silence.

"Uncle?" hissed the voice of Apollo, the croon twisting from his golden lips in a melodious tinkle. "You are forbidden to enter the Olympian Gardens."

"As are you from taking away this lady without her consent, dear nephew."

"Leave."

"I will inform the Lord Zeus, Hades. Go before word falls upon his ear and leave the maiden to us," Hermes answered, a cruel smile smeared on his lips.

"Please... please don't leave me with them," whispered the young woman, still frigid with frozen fear holding her as strongly in place as the two males' wrists. She blindly turned around to find the source of my raw voice, hidden as my flesh was under the Helm of Darkness.

"You're coming with us, little dove," the Messenger of Gods tugged at her tender wrists, pulling her young body forward like a puppet as her innocent eyes wept out a stream of agonising tears.

And then his hands - his hands were on her body - his filthy knuckles stained with ambrosia and blood and cuts of the holy harp, picking and tweaking at the threads of her thin chiton, pulling it this way and dragging it that way, threatening to slide it off her.

They pulled, she resisted, and even as tears simmered in the beauteous maiden's eyes and fell to the ground like pearls of freshwater, she slapped Hermes, who crashed right into the earth and dust, as befitting his lowly stature.

A wisp of laughter rumbled out of my lips, booming and crashing over the gardens, a mighty wave of amusement.

She was no tender maiden.

She was a bloodstained rose.

She was fire, and fury, and crimson vengeance and death; disguised under the fresh cloak of youth and innocence.

She would be mine.

Harshly Apollo's hands brought her jaw to his, his immortal lips ready to meet hers.

And that was when my anger snapped.

My mind could no longer appreciate the god's assault, nor the inappropriate way he touched the lady - she was mine, mine alone - and I would scatter any other man who so much as touched her into dead ashes.

The Lord of the Underworld would have this no more.

The ancient blood flowing in my veins began to boil.

Off came the Helm of Darkness.

Off came the guise, and in its place, slowly appeared the true form of the dreaded Lord of the Dead.

On came the terror in their eyes as they came undone with fear. Apollo and Hermes went a sickly shade of pale yellow, even as they gritted their teeth, they shook out of their treacherous skins.

But the divine, fierce goddess looked me straight in the eye, meeting gaze for gaze. Gone was the weeping maiden - if only for an instant - as she gathered the courage to hold my sight. Hers were full on lingering resolute, and her delicate little throat clenched, delighting my senses even further as I contemplated about how wicked it would be to kiss every inch of that slender neck of hers.

And then, my immortal hand firmly wrapped itself around her ankle, as the other palm summoned my glittering staff. The woman's eyes widened - this time with fear.

A smile curled up on my lips, revelling in the taste of her fear. It was dripping with darkness and death, a silk ribbon of fright encasing her emotions.

The staff tapped the earth thrice, before I struck it right into the heart of the river Cyane.

A mighty roar wept out of its waves, cracking a fissure in the depths of Poseidon's realm, slowly unfolding to reveal a dark chasm beneath the flowing waters as the earth opened to its master.

And open it did.

Out came forth my black stallions, drawing my chariots at their obsidian heels, with iron coloured reins over their necks.

Hecate must have reined them.

I pulled off the reins deftly, preferring my beasts to wander freely, for they were wild, wild creatures; not meant to be subdued. They obeyed every touch, every wish of my brain, opaque to all others but to mine alone. Loudly did they rear and neigh as they beheld my sight.

I yanked the maiden into the chariot with me as the earth opened to give us passage to Tartarus.

Off I took the terrified goddess away, away into the dying dusk.