Orpheum - a dark fantasy YA romance based on Greek mythology

Preface

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I've died and gone to heaven, Duke thought, watching the girls dance and spin around the campfire, slowly peeling off layers of clothing. He was in Sofia with friends for a gap year—they'd passed through France, Rome and Berlin but were looking for something a little more exotic, so they pushed into Eastern Europe. He'd also heard Bulgaria had hot and easy women who loved Americans... and he hadn't been disappointed. On his second night here went to a bar and started chatting up a beautiful woman with dark eyes, black hair and light skin. Probably about 24, he guessed. A slamming body, huge tits. She was definitely an 8 or 9. Karina, she said.

He tried to get her to come back to his hotel room, but had to get home. But she invited him on a camping trip. He'd gone out every night that week, looking for anything better, but couldn't keep his mind off Karina. She picked him up in a Fiat and they drove out of town, up into the mountains that surround the city. They pulled off onto a dirt road, and after a while came to a clearing overlooking the city.

A campfire was already burning. Two of her friends were there, both girls, he noted with satisfaction, and all as good looking—or better—than Karina. Thin arms and waists, jutting busts, long necks, big eyes. Any one of them could have been on the cover of Maxim. I love Eastern Europe, he thought to himself, as Karina pulled of his jacket and pushed him down next to the fire, rubbing his shoulders before passing him a bottle.

"Medicinal wine," she said. "An ancient recipe; wine mixed with local herbs and poppy flowers." Two of the girls started dancing slowly with each other, shooting him wicked looks and teasing smiles. The wine warmed his stomach and filled his body with euphoria. Soon his skin was tingling. He could smell sap from the nearby pine trees, and something both musty and floral at once, like a bouquet of dying irises. The fire flared up, and the lights and darks fought with each other, each seeking to extinguish the other. The city lights below them were framed by the tall, dark trees, and the light fog seemed to reveal, rather than obscure, the panoramic view.

Karina kneeled in front of him and ran her hand up his chest, putting a finger on his lips, before leaning in to kiss him. Then she leaned back and stripped off her shirt. The girls took off their clothes as well. He watched their breasts bounce free as they tugged off their tops and threw them to the side. They clasped hands and spun in a circle, their laughter tinkling like bells in the small meadow. Karina came up to him playfully, wearing only panties. She swayed in front of him hypnotically, looking up into his eyes and holding his shoulders tightly. The other two girls approached on both sides, wrapping their petite hands around his biceps, and leaning in to kiss his neck and shoulders. Best first-date ever, he thought.

Then he felt a sharp tug, followed by searing pain on his left side. He looked over at the bloody stump where his arm had been seconds before, his eyes wide in horror. He was just about to scream, when Karina reached up and placed her hands over his ears. With a sharp twist, she ripped his head off. With his very last second of life, he watched his own body slump to the ground, as Karina brought his head up to her mouth, and kissed him one last time.

Rilke, songs of Orpheus, 1922

And it was almost a girl, and she came out of

that single blessedness of song and lyre,

and shone clear through her springtime-veil

and made herself a bed inside my hearing.

And slept within me. And her sleep was all:

the trees, each that I admired, those

perceptible distances, the meadows I felt,

and every wonder that concerned my self.

She slept the world. Singing god, how have you

so perfected her that she made no demand

to first be awake? See, she emerged and slept.

Where is her death? O, will you still discover

this theme, before your song consumes itself? –

Where is she falling to, from me?...a girl, almost...