the marble palace of the zeus cabin seems too vast and too small all at once. you say the last words, beckoning for your father to answer you, to reveal if the myths about him are true—if you’re doomed to turn into the same type of man depicted in statues, in songs.
your vision goes dark, a swirling blackness that seems all consuming. then, you watch as palace pillars and walls crumble, turn to dust and broken stone. your vision snaps forward, seeing nothing but more darkness and then, faintly, tendrils of purple smoke that wisp out, as if trying to infect the earth.
you hear it first, the sound of the earth being beaten. something large battering against the ground hard enough to make it quake. each thump of earth makes the sky open up, purple bolts of lightning splintering the darkness overhead with violet light, followed by a roll of thunder that makes your teeth shatter.
then you see it, a hulking horned creature. it’s easily larger than a house, perhaps larger than a small building. its eyes are a deep purple, frenzied, filled with rage. it stomps its hooves against the ground and the lightning crackles once more.
it whirls around to face you, lowering it’s horned head as it beats against the earth. panic seems to rise inside of you. there’s a rumble in the air as the sky opens up once more, a downpour of rain, ripped through with cracks of lightning and booming thunder louder than you’ve ever heard ripples through your body.
your insides feel like a natural disaster, a raging war of who you are and who your father is, as if they’re fighting one another.
you look up and the beast is charging at you, head lowered, purple crackles of lightning sparking off its body as it gains momentum toward you. your hands come up, as if you’re going to catch the bull by the horns, as if you’re going to brace yourself for the impact—
and then you’re back in your cabin. the marbled white floors etched with gold are the same, though there’s blood on your hands, coming from your knuckles, and a deep indent in one of the floors from where your fist meet the hard floor. your question, vaguely, might have been answered, but you received an answer to something else.
