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The Immortal Heart	By : amandalee Category: 1 through F > Clash of the Titans (2010) > Clash of the Titans (2010) Views: 7819 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: We do not own Clash of the Titans or the characters portrayed in this story, and we make no money from writing this.

Chapter List
- 43
- 44
- 45
A/N: This chapter has some violent, graphic content which may not be to everyone's tastes. Please proceed with caution.

Chapter 44

Once the sun began to rise in the east, the three Olympians and their equine half-brother ate a bland but ultimately satisfying breakfast around the campfire. The wind was brisk and the air cold, tempting Hades to remain as physically close to Zeus as possible throughout their meal. The Olympian leader was happy to provide his lover with warmth, allowing the smaller god to huddle up against him as they ate.

Once his hunger was had been successfully quenched, another of Zeus’ bodily needs soon presented itself. He had been able to suppress them quite well during his days alone with Poseidon, but now that his chosen mate was at his side, he no longer saw any reason to continue with this.

Poseidon and the centaur exchanged a brief glance with one another when Zeus suddenly whispered something in Hades’ ear and soon afterwards rose to his feet and began to lead Hades by the hand toward their tent.

Though the tent fabric provided the two with an iota of perceived privacy, the activities between them were painfully obvious to both Chiron and Poseidon. The shadow of Hades’ bobbing head suggested that he was giving Zeus pleasure by mouth, and doing rather well judging from the noises made by the younger god.

Poseidon remained silent as he watched the shadowy display of devotion, and he barely even noticed Chiron stepping up alongside him before the other spoke.

“Do you desire him?” the centaur asked.

“Who?” the god asked, glancing upward at his half-brother. “Of course I don’t. Zeus and I see one another as friends and fellow warriors, and we respect one another greatly, but…”

“I was referring to Hades,” Chiron said, his expression stern and arms crossed. “And you know that.”

Poseidon lowered his head like a dog knowing it had misbehaved in front of its master. “No, I do not desire him. I do not desire either of them. At first I thought I was attracted to Hades, but I quickly realized I was feeling something else.” He looked back at Chiron once more. “Jealousy.”

The back legs of Chiron’s equine body bent and soon he was in what for him was a sitting position. “You envied him.”

“Not terribly,” Poseidon quickly said. “Do not think that I resent our eldest brother. I did not wish harm on him. I am only frustrated. Zeus and Hades are to be wed after the war, and Hestia and Demeter adore one another. I value my time alone, but I would have hoped that one day I might find someone for myself.”

Chiron sighed, looking at the drifting clouds. He understood what Poseidon meant. “What about Hera?” he asked.

Poseidon shuddered. “Thank you, but no.”

Chiron chuckled. In a seated position, he was able to easily place a reassuring hand on his half-brother’s shoulder.

A few minutes later Zeus exited the tent wearing nothing at all, his sizable phallus still semi-erect and bouncing sluggishly as he walked over to where the brothers stored their drinking water and swallowed several greedy mouthfuls of it. Obviously the activities he had partaken in had left him thirsty.

“Did Hades polish your sword for you?” Chiron asked with a grin.

Zeus did not react immediately, and though he knew the question was intended to make fun of him, his temper did not flare. Hades’ impeccable performance had left him sated and mellow.

“I don’t let Hades anywhere near my sword,” he replied coolly but had to repress a small smile. “It’s too heavy for him to lift in any case.”

Upon his name being spoken, the elder Olympian finally emerged from the tent, meticulously wiping at his mouth. Poseidon knew why; Zeus was fond of letting the essence of his pleasure land on the face of whoever pleasured him, and supposedly that was exactly what had happened now. Joining his youngest brother at the water barrel, Hades filled his hands with water and drank just as eagerly as Zeus until the salty aftertaste of semen was gone from his mouth.

Zeus dressed himself in a rather short tunic which would not be as cumbersome as a robe while travelling cross-country. “We have lingered here too long,” he spoke to his companions. “If Cronos is not already aware of our whereabouts, he will be soon, and I do not wish to be here when his brethren arrive to destroy us.”

“We cannot head into battle yet,” Chiron objected. “Our ranks are not ready for war.”

“Maybe not,” Zeus said haughtily, not quite wanting to agree with his half-god brother. “But we will need to make certain that our surroundings are well known. In the event that we are attacked at our camp, we should know where we can make our escape.”

He fastened his belt, sword and scabbard firmly attached to it. Out of instinct he removed the sword to inspect the blade, though he had done so only hours beforehand already.

“We should also scout the area for any signs of the enemy while we are at it.”

“A wise move,” Poseidon remarked. “Someone should possibly remain behind, in the event our camp is found out whilst we are gone.”

“I can stay,” Hades offered, smoothing out his clothes after he had put them on.

“Of course you are staying,” Zeus replied, placing an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “This is of no question. What Poseidon means to say is that someone else might stay with you. For protection.”

“Ah, of course,” Hades muttered, trying to hide his annoyance. He may not have been an able warrior, but he was not completely helpless.

“I have brought my helm,” the elder god added, his tone slightly defiant. “You do not need to give up any able bodies to look after me.”

“And what if your helm is not within reach?” Zeus asked. His expression was grave but he was not angry.

“I could stay behind,” Chiron suggested. “I do not mind at all.”

“Thank you, brother,” Hades replied, smiling. “I appreciate your offer, but Zeus and Poseidon would need you more than I.”

“I cannot leave you here all by yourself,” Zeus said firmly. “It is out of the question.”

“I won’t be alone,” Hades argued. “My mount will stay here with me. At the smallest sign of trouble, he can take me to the skies.”

Zeus stayed silent for a moment, considering his oldest brother’s words. “He might have taken to you quite well, but he is still just a beast. If he is as easily frightened as a regular horse, he is likely to fly away before you can get on his back.”

“No, he will not,” Hades insisted, getting angrier by the minute. He despised the idea of Zeus appointing a babysitter to watch over him as if the elder god were a child not capable of watching over himself.

“I am only doing my best to keep you out of harm’s way,” Zeus said with a sigh.

“The horse is well-equipped to protect me,” Hades tried again, slightly more hopeful. At least he had not yet received a definitive refusal from the leader. “He can hold his own, especially if I show him something with Poseidon’s smell on it.”

The statement drew an amused chuckle from both Zeus and Chiron, while Poseidon himself only threw a sullen glance at Hades, then at the horse, which was busy scratching its neck against a nearby tree.

“Fine,” Zeus said. “I will leave you to watch over our camp. Hopefully I will not have to regret my decision.”

“Thank you brother,” Hades replied sweetly. He would have given Zeus a kiss if not for the thought of how his gratitude might look in front of the others. Zeus, proud as he was, hated to look weak, and receiving a kiss in exchange for bowing to his mate’s wishes would have likely embarrassed him.

“As I told you,” Zeus reminded him. “Just because you have your helm of invisibility and a way to escape, you are not completely safe.”

“Yes, brother,” Hades dutifully answered.

“You would be safest with us, but not whilst we are scouting the lands surrounding our camp.”

“I understand, brother.” Hades was saddened by the thought. If only he was stronger, more powerful. He would not have to be left behind time and time again, or mothered over as though he were an utter weakling.

Weapons were gathered and soon the group was on their way. Zeus lagged behind for a moment so that he could wish his eldest brother good bye.

“We will hopefully not be gone long,” the youngest Olympian said. “So there may not be any need for worry. But please try to remain safe, dearest.”

“I will,” Hades promised. Seemingly satisfied with this answer, Zeus finally smiled and leaned forward, giving his brother an affectionate kiss on the forehead.

“Mind your pet,” he said with a grin, and he joined Poseidon and Chiron. Hades watched them leave, only turning away when their bodies were no longer visible among the trees. Looking around himself, Hades saw how small the camp truly was, especially without the company of his family. Turning, he glanced at the stallion, who only continued scratching its itch.

Bothered by the cold, Hades went to retrieve one of Zeus’ fur blankets from the tent and wrapped it around himself. The campfire was still burning, but without more firewood it was soon bound to be extinguished.

Feeling uncomfortable by himself, both physically and spiritually, the lonesome god wondered how long his brothers would be gone. Though nothing appeared to be out of order, Hades carried an imminent feeling of dread in his heart. The stillness and tranquility of the surroundings seemed to be only a façade, hiding something horrific waiting to happen.

Shivering inside his borrowed fur blanket, Hades held out his hands over the dying fire. It did not provide much warmth, and Hades considered going back into the tent to bury himself under layers of bed furs and blankets. However, he had been given an assignment by Zeus, which consisted of watching over their campsite during the leader’s absence. Though he was certain that Zeus did not expect much of him, Hades wanted to take his task seriously, and hiding when there was nothing to hide from was downright ridiculous.

He looked over his shoulder at the horse, telling himself he wasn’t worried to find his only remaining companion gone. His concern was unfounded; the winged beast was no longer scratching its neck against the tree but had moved on to grazing the scant grass available outside the circle of their campsite. Seeing the untroubled nature of the animal calmed Hades somewhat, but not entirely.

Zeus, please return soon, he thought, shivering and moving his hands even closer to the fire.

How can I be so cold, he asked himself. Have I grown so used to Zeus’ presence that his own heat has spoiled me?

An hour passed and Hades had retrieved a cloak from the tent, putting it on and then wrapping himself once more in the fur blanket. The creature who once wore this hide had not needed any extra warmth, he reasoned. Then again he was not an animal. Hades was a god, and did not grow fur like other beings. And if all the things Zeus had said about their coming victory were true, the gods would soon not even need blankets. They would find much cleverer ways to warm themselves, to feed themselves, to simply live.

I hope so, Hades thought. Cloaks and blankets only work for so long.

Another hour had passed and Hades found himself growing hungry. He knew that his brothers had gathered some fruit from nearby trees, so he gathered up his fur and cloak and wandered to the pack where the sweet food was kept.

Suddenly the stallion snorted. Hades might have been more alarmed had the animal not already done this earlier, and then it had been purely casual. However, this time the horse’s eyes widened, frantically looking around itself. It had heard or smelled something Hades had yet not.

Worried, Hades glanced at his surroundings as well, but saw nothing. No movement came from the trees nearby, but the god still did not like the uneasiness which had suddenly gripped him and his mount. Keeping himself alert, he searched through his own satchel and found his helm, immediately putting it on. Something rustled nearby.

Did he hear voices as he vanished? Or was he only imagining things?

“My friend,” he whispered as he approached the horse, “I fear we must leave at once.”

The horse spread its wings, and for a moment Hades feared that the skittish creature would take off to the skies without him. Eyes still wide from fear, it backed away from the god, and Hades did not realize – not at the time – that it did not recoil from him.

“Take it easy, boy,” Hades told his mount, keeping his hands up and his steps slow in an attempt to show the animal he was not dangerous, that he was the same god who had crossed the sea on its back. It did not help; the horse continued to move away from him, and Hades could see the way the animal’s lips were pulled back in a snarl which exposed its large, flat teeth. The horse was terrified, and Hades, not seeing what approached him from behind, believed it was due to his invisibility and seemingly discorporated voice.

“Calm down, I say!” he called out, taking a chance by lunging at the animal and throwing his arms around its neck, thinking that perhaps his familiar touch would soothe his distressed mount.

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked, frightened but also hurt by the horse’s reaction to him. “I am not my brother, as you very well know.”

Was the group – including Poseidon – perhaps returning from their scouting mission? Hades considered the idea for only a moment. The horse was not fond of Poseidon, but as long as the younger god stayed a minimum of ten feet away, things remained calm.

Hades wondered if he should risk mounting such a nervous animal, as the chance of being thrown off was high when he looked straight ahead of him for the first time. Four large figures were headed their way, less than a hundred yards away.

Titans. Finally Hades was able to figure out what had frightened his mount.

“We have to go,” he said, more to himself than to the horse. “We have to leave, now!”

No longer taking the time to calm his ride, he grabbed fistfuls of mane and flesh, jumping up to take a seat on the animal. His efforts were too late, as the flicker of something shooting through the air barely registered in his mind before the stallion was shrieking, rearing up on its hind legs in pain and terror. Before Hades was completely thrown, he saw the arrow which had entered the animal’s flank and now remained.

The impact of hitting the ground knocked the air from Hades’ lungs and he barely had time to inhale before he saw the massive size of his companion come dangerously close. Still hardly breathing, the god scrambled to crawl out of the way, but he heard the sound of another arrow meeting its target. The stallion whinnied and collapsed, right on top of Hades’ legs.

As the titans approached, they could hear the pained moans of effort coming from an unseen quarry. By the time the four foes reached the horse, a figure appeared seemingly out of thin air, reaching with trembling hands for a helm which had apparently fallen from his head. Looking up at them, the god’s eyes widened in fear.

The titans comprised of three males and one female, who stood slightly further back from the group. The males, however, looked down upon Hades with a childish excitement, as though finding a new toy they had never before played with. Hades had a feeling he was indeed to become their plaything.

“Look at what we have here,” the middle one said, cracking meaty knuckles. “Someone’s been left all by his-self.”

“We can’t have that,” the second said, holding a bow and quiver.

“He has company now,” the third, taller than the others by a head, remarked with a malevolent grin.

Hades desperately tried to free himself from beneath his weakly thrashing mount, but to no avail. The second arrow had entered the horse’s neck, and judging from the place of injury, the animal did not have long to live. The god’s eyes teared up at the prospect of losing his magnificent flying stallion, but the large foot descending onto his chest quickly made him forget about the horse and divert his thoughts to a more pressing matter – his own life.

The sole of a hard, gritty sandal pressed down against Hades’ ribcage, and he was already convinced that the brute would crush him like a beetle and stomp his pulpy remains into the earth when a second one – obviously their leader – grabbed his companion and yanked him away from the Olympian.

“You imbecile!” the titan in charge bellowed. “If you kill him now, what fun do you think he’ll be?”

“Atlas,” the first one said, almost whining. “He is one of them! We ought to kill them all before they multiply like rabbits!”

“Calm yourself,” Atlas snapped at his slightly smaller companion. “There is plenty of time. Zeus and his ilk won’t be back for hours. See this one?” He gestured at the trapped Hades, whose fear increased exponentially at the look of the fiendish grin on the titan’s face. “This one is especially dear to Zeus. I have witnessed their activities myself. I believe he loves this brother above all else.”

“What do you intend to do with him?” the third male titan asked.

“We should set an example,” Atlas replied. “Let them know what awaits all of them unless they withdraw their ranks and call off this war against our king.”

The female titan finally stepped forward and spoke up, and Hades believed she saw sympathy in the brief glance she gave him.

“Atlas, we came to wreck their camp,” she said. “To destroy their weapons and supplies. I don’t know why they left him behind, but this poor little god is no threat to anyone. Let’s do what we came here to do and leave. Let him live. Zeus will get the message even if we don’t harm his sibling.”

The three titans did not seem the sort to listen to a female, even one of their own kind, but Hades hoped she had some manner of influence over them. Sadly she did not.

“Shut up,” the one with the arrows snapped. “We allowed you to come with us so that you could help. If you’re not going to help, you can go back or keep your mouth shut!”

The horse, now floundering from panic alone, weakly struggled as it was lifted without effort by a set of giant hands. The entire lower half of Hades’ body hurt, but he cared more about escaping. He scrambled to turn over onto his stomach so that he might rise to his feet and run, but he was barely on his side before another set of hands held him down.

“Ah, ah,” a booming voice reprimanded. “You can’t just run away.” Then to the others: “Who wants him first?”

Hades mind refused to function at first out of shock. What could they possibly “want him” for? Yet soon he was aware of how the massive set of hands holding him ever so easily against the grass pulled at his clothes. A finger pressed against his back and traveled downwards, feeling every contour and coming to rest against the halves of his rump. Hades shook so greatly beneath the titan’s hold.

“No…” he said, voice trembling nearly as much as his frame. Two of the titans laughed. “Please…”

“No?” one of them asked. “You don’t have any say in this matter. Your fool of a brother made certain of that a long time ago.”

“PLEASE STOP!” Hades frantically clawed at the ground until the hand holding him down let go. The titans laughed as their prey tried to run, only to be grabbed by an enormous hand and thrown back into the center of what had now formed into a ring of jeering, laughing tormentors.

A hand the size of Hades’ entire head tangled in his long dark locks and yanked him up from the ground. White-hot, searing pain radiated from the god’s abused scalp and down his spine, and for a moment the world faded into complete darkness. When Hades’ vision returned, his feet had already left the ground and dangled helplessly at least three feet in the air. The titan the others had referred to as Atlas held him on eye level with himself.

“You’re a pretty little thing,” he said with a leer and then laughed at Hades’ pathetic attempts to kick him. “I think I will enjoy watching you scream impaled on my phallus. But more than anything I would like to see the look on Zeus’ face when he discovers what’s left of his little catamite.”

Hades began to wish that Atlas’ enthusiastic and dim-witted companion had crushed his chest and thus granted him a quick death, after all. Death certainly seemed preferable to what these three were planning to use him for.

“Catch!” Atlas suddenly hollered and unexpectedly threw Hades at one of his companions. The titan was too slow to catch him in the air, and Hades plummeted to the ground, landing in a heap face first. He felt something hot and warm gush from his nose and dimly realized it was blood before he was kicked by a large foot colliding with his abdomen.

“Stop it, you fool!” Atlas roared at the titan responsible for the kick. “He won’t live long if you’re not careful, and if he dies before I can do what I want with him, I will make you regret it!”

The other titan muttered a half-hearted apology, but he did not attempt to deliver another kick.

“Gather their things and set it on fire,” the leader ordered. “I want this whole site to be nothing but a smoking pyre when we leave.”

“What shall we do with the horse?” the third asked. Hades lifted his head and strained to look in the direction of the suffering animal.

“Let us eat him,” the second suggested.

“Please, don’t…” Hades pleaded. He raised an arm as though reaching for the poor creature, though it was obviously out of reach. The stallion barely moved, and if not for the steady rise and fall of its blood-stained ribs, the god would have assumed it was already dead.

“What did we just say?” Atlas demanded. The size of these titans already made their voices disturbingly loud, even if they so much as whispered, and when the shouted, Hades wished he could cover his ears.

“Did we not just say that your word on any matter here was pointless?” Atlas asked, leaning in to get a closer look at his source of cruel amusement. The odor of his breath was horrid. Looking up at his fellow titans, Atlas grinned. “We’ll eat it.”

“No!” Hades cried. Thick fingers entangled in his hair again and lifted him onto his hands and knees. Not only was the god unable to move, he could now plainly see the horse, writhing as the other titans approached it. A fist to the head was all the brutes needed to extinguish the life from the poor animal’s bloody form.

A knife was pulled from the first titan’s belt and it glinted in the sunlight before sinking into the stallion’s belly. A splash of red followed as the blade came back out and Hades shut his eyes. The first of its kind was dead and being torn to pieces for meat and vicious entertainment, an animal which had only been able to bond with Hades himself.

“Maybe if you behave, we’ll let you have some,” Atlas said, sneering.

“No…” Hades whispered, shaking his head as if in denial. Even ravenous hunger could not have driven him to slay and eat this magnificent animal, and the thought of being forced to do so made him want to choke on the bile which rose in his throat.

While Atlas and one of his companions proceeded to crack open the horse’s ribcage and tear chunks of meat from its dead body, the titaness and the third male titan wrecked the tent in which the gods had slept and gathered the supplies spread out over the small campsite.

No one bothered to specifically watch Hades, as the titans no doubt believed the god to be too injured and subdued to even attempt an escape.

Hades quietly watched from his prone position on the ground as Atlas tore pieces of flesh from one of the stallion’s hind legs with his teeth while barking orders at his brethren. The Olympians’ possessions – Zeus and Poseidon’s armor along with the weapons and clothes they had neglected to bring with them – were thrown into a huge pile in the middle of the camp, and Hades knew what was coming next.

“Metis!” Atlas shouted. “Make yourself useful if you want any of this!” He gestured at the remains of the horse, which in truth did not resemble a horse at all anymore. “You want to be useful, do you not?”

The female’s eyes narrowed, and Hades could easily tell that she was not fond of her fellow titan. She was, however, not prepared to disobey a direct order, and wordlessly set fire to a piece of cloth drenched in oil, which she then threw into the pile.

The fire blazed almost at once, the flames reflecting in the gleeful faces of the titans. Hades squeezed his eyes shut and a memory from not long ago resurfaced in his mind. He was inside the burning wreckage of their old home, desperately looking for his wounded sister. The smoke and flames were upon him, threatening to devour him, and he had made it go away, dissipate with a mere thought…

Hades did not even notice when the fire started to die down, but his captors did. What finally made the god aware of his achievement was Atlas’ furious voice bellowing at the others to add more oil to the nearly extinguished flames.

All four titans had their backs turned against him. Hades struggled to his knees, despite the pain wracking his abused body. He only had once chance, and he had to take it.

The female was the first to see him get up, but she said nothing. Hades did not see it, but Metis had turned to look the other way. Sadly, she was not the only one to notice.

“STOP HIM!” the titan with the quiver and bow shouted, pointing at the god who was now in a full run.

The god tried to ignore the agony of his legs. Already his horse had fallen against him and these monstrous captors had left him bruised from head to foot with little effort. Walking alone would have caused him too much pain, but his pulse pounded and his blood surged. In the back of his mind he heard himself yelling over and over again to run, run, RUN…

“Help, someone help!” Hades managed to cry out as he ran, but he was only free of his captor for a few fleeting seconds. He had not been running for even half of a minute before he felt hands around his neck, pulling at his hair and squeezing his throat. As he was lifted off of the ground and nearly dragged back to the camp, an image passed through Hades’ mind of a lioness carrying her cub by the scruff of the neck.

The god hardly had time to consider the irony before he was tossed to the ground again. Still he refused to stay put. He had to survive, he had to somehow get away and find his brothers. They needed to know that the titans had discovered the gods’ return to the mainland.

Looking around himself in a panic, Hades saw something only two paces from him. The helm! If only he could reach it and put it back on. Maybe he would have a chance to escape…

“Where do you think you’re going?” One of the titans asked as the others laughed at their prisoner. Hades fingers were just about to touch the metal armor when a heavy foot came down upon the helmet. A horrible, screeching crunch was muffled as the helm sank into the ground, utterly destroyed.

“Ohh, look at how upset he is,” Atlas barked, laughing with his brethren as Hades grimaced and hid his face behind his formerly outstretched hand.

“I believe we broke his favorite toy,” another one remarked, and Atlas laughed as though that was the funniest thing he’d heard all day.

Hades was jerked up by his hair, and three pairs of malevolent eyes greeted him when he looked up through a haze of blood, sweat and tears which clouded his vision. A snot bubble appeared in his left nostril, and the sight made the titans laugh again.

“He is feistier than I had expected,” Atlas said admiringly. “I believe I like it.” His large fist grabbed the front of Hades’ robe and yanked. The sound of seams ripping immediately followed, and the god’s clothing was torn away from his body in one swift pull, leaving Hades clothed in naught but his sandals.

“Look at that soft, white skin…” Atlas cooed lecherously and trailed a large, filthy finger with an unkempt fingernail along the naked Olympian’s scrawny chest. Hades twitched, and the rough edge of the claw-like nail pierced his skin, drawing blood.

“Tsk tsk…” the titan holding Hades’ hair said. “Be still, or you’ll hurt yourself, little god…”

New tears welled up in the god’s large eyes, rolling down his cheeks and soaking into the ground before him. Atlas’ hand moved up to his face, caressing his cheeks in a perverse imitation of gentility.

“I would save my tears if I were you,” the titan said. “For when you truly need them.”

Blood from his recent meal still stained his face and hands, and Hades could smell the carnage in his breath when the large being leaned close.

“You’re hardly untouched,” Atlas said knowingly. “Why don’t you just pretend that I’m Zeus?”

Hades tried to blink away the tears and blood which clouded his vision, but it was no use. “Please…” he begged tearfully. “Please…”

“STOP SAYING THAT,” Atlas roared, shoving the god’s face into the dirt. “Stop saying it, you little rat! Don’t you say anything else?!”

Hades only sobbed.

“Atlas,” the titaness said, her voice pleading, but she was pushed back a second time by one of the other titans.

“We told you to stop butting in!” one of them snarled.

Atlas seemed to be ignoring Metis. He stared at the fragile, naked form of the shivering god, caressing the beaten back and admiring the way the purple and red of the bruises interrupted the otherwise perfect white of the flesh. He could not wait to see the way blood looked against it.

“I want him,” one of the titans said, stepping forward. Hades winced at the approaching footsteps.

“No,” Atlas said. “I will have him first. And don’t any of you dare try to interrupt.”

Both hands now grasped Hades by the arms and he was suddenly writhing like a snake. He shrieked at what was to come, and despite the blatant truth that resisting was no use, he struggled anyway.

“Stop, stop it!” he yelled. “Someone help me!”

“Help!” one of the titans shouted in mockery, laughing as he did. “Help me! Who on earth is going to hear you, you idiot??”

“Zeus…” Hades said in a raspy whisper, still hoping that somehow his youngest brother would sense his distress and come to his aid. Despite what was about to be done to him, Hades did not want to die. He wanted to live so that he could see the titans vanquished and marry his beloved brother and mate.

“Zeus won’t be back for hours yet,” Atlas replied. “You might as well resign yourself to your fate.”

He rolled the wriggling and squirming god onto his back and held Hades against the earth with a hand pressed against his chest. Hades clawed and beat against the huge limb holding him down, but Atlas merely laughed at his efforts and used his other hand to spread his quarry’s legs.

Knowing that it was indeed about to happen now, Hades increased his struggles and began to scream at the top of his lungs. “NO! No! No!”

“He screams like a woman,” one of the other titans said with a snort. “I wonder if he’ll feel like a woman, too?”

“You’re soon about to find out for yourself,” Atlas replied, moving his loin cloth aside to free his hardening phallus.

If even possible, Hades’ terror doubled at the sight of the titan’s organ. It was absolutely enormous; as thick as his forearm and at least a foot long. Though Zeus was sufficiently endowed in the nether regions, his size did not even come close to that of Atlas.

He’ll split me in two, Hades thought, and he momentarily ceased struggling against the hand holding his legs apart.

“Atlas, I beg you to rethink this,” Metis pleaded, and to everyone’s surprise, the titaness lunged for Atlas and grabbed him by the arm. “This is unworthy of us! You know it!”

Atlas swatted at her as though she were only a fly. Sharing the same durability as her comrades, he was not badly injured, but she had been struck off balance and went tumbling to the ground. She could only look up in perplexity as she wiped fresh blood from her lips.

“Hold her back!” Atlas barked an order, and his fellow soldiers grabbed Metis by the arms, dragging her several paces away so that she would not distract him further.

Metis’ attempt at interfering barely registered to Hades. The god was far too overwhelmed by abject fear to take notice. He refused to look at Atlas, or at the horrible thing which would be penetrating him at any moment. A large finger began to prod at his delicate naked form, and he briefly wondered if the inspection alone would leave more bruises. He did not want to cry, to allow these evil monsters the satisfaction of his pain and torment, but he simply could not help it. And he knew the pain would only get worse.

“Are you ready for it, little one?” Atlas inquired in the gleeful tone of someone playing a harmless game. Of course it would not matter if Hades said no. The helpless god’s legs were spread as far apart as physically possible, and the halves of his backside were parted. He knew he could do nothing to help himself.

The pain of entry was so great that Hades did not immediately scream out of pure shock. When he finally did, he did not recognize his own voice.

“Listen to him!” one of the other two titans laughed. “He’s worse than a caught rabbit. Listen to that squealing!”

“And this is just my finger,” Atlas said with a chuckle. Hades closed his eyes, tears escaping and rolling down his face as he realized this was only the beginning of a very long, very cruel game.

The giant’s ragged fingernail was scraping up his delicate insides, and Hades wondered – almost hoped – if he would bleed to death before his tormentor could consummate their forced union.

When Atlas withdrew his finger, it was already stained with blood to the second knuckle, and he smeared the sticky, red substance over his captive’s face, making sure that some of it got into Hades’ mouth. Atlas once again placed his hand over the much smaller being’s rapidly rising and falling ribcage, taking pleasure in feeling the fervent hammering of the puny heart trapped within.

Like a rabbit caught in the snare, he thought. He almost regretted having to kill the little thing after they were finished with him. Atlas would have loved to keep this one as his own personal plaything for a longer time.

Without a warning, he situated his bloated member against the helpless god’s orifice and applied steady pressure. Hades began to scream louder than ever before when his entrance was rudely breached by the invading organ, and though he knew that fighting the titan would only cause him further harm, his body could not help it.

“Such a snug little god…” Atlas hissed, his member now half-buried within Hades’ unwilling body. He restrained the urge to thrust in all the way, as even the titan knew that such would end his quarry’s misery far too quickly. Atlas wanted this to last.

Hades’ cries of anguish were unstable and rose and fell with every thrust. He vaguely heard the other titans making fun of how silly he sounded. As he opened his mouth to cry out, the bloodstained finger of his tormenter intruded, filling his mouth and nearly choking him. He gagged on the pressure against the back of his throat and his jaws clamped down in an attempt to keep himself from throwing up. If he did, he would surely drown on his own vomit.

“Look at the way he nips at me,” Atlas said, no anger in his voice despite being bitten. “He thinks he can hurt me!”

Hades could not argue. He was unable to speak, and he was lucky enough to presently breathe. He was surprised he was not struck about the face for his biting.

“Taste that,” Atlas whispered, his hushed voice still loud enough for all to hear in the camp. “Don’t you think you taste delicious?”

The god could only groan past his gag of bloodied flesh and bone.

Stop, he wanted to say. Please stop. This alone will assure your punishment. Zeus will kill you all, you will see…

Then Atlas moved, and all thought was struck from the god’s mind. He screamed, but the sound was stifled by the large finger pressed into his mouth. Zeus used to incorporate his hands and fingers in his lovemaking with Hades, but now the god no longer found the act pleasurable. He found it sickening. He bit down again instinctively at the pain, but the pressure against the back of his throat increased for just a moment, and he let go.

Metis found the poor little creature’s anguished cries difficult to listen to, and she began to wish that Atlas would simply kill the god instead of cruelly using him as a plaything. Also, despite Atlas’ claims that Zeus and his brethren would not be back for many hours, she could not help but fear he might be wrong. Should the leader of the Olympians catch them in their current act, ravaging his camp and desecrating his brother and mate, she was convinced that they would suffer the full strength of his fury.

Hades was so focused on breathing past the large digit jammed down his throat that the pain in his nether regions momentarily paled. Tears streamed from his eyes and down his bloodied and dirt-covered cheeks until finally the world around him sank into a comforting darkness. Hades had experienced the feeling once before, during his attempt to drown himself, and he wondered if this was what it felt like to die.

TBC...
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The Immortal Heart