Chapter Text
There were things in Charles’ life that he didn’t want to talk about. What happened in 1972 at a club in Greece was one of these things. It was something only few knew about, something most people he told about were now dead.
Mind you, Charles didn’t kill them. Time did. Charles had watched as time took away Anthoine, his father, his mother, Arthur … Almost everyone Charles ever loved. All of that because of one dumb decision he made during holidays.
At that time, society wasn’t really talking about people being raped, especially not because of drugs in drinks and especially not if these people were men. It was a taboo subject and Charles had been a victim of this taboo.
Charles had accepted the drink of one very attractive man. He had been drunk, and it was easier for him to accept his homosexuality when he was drunk. One more thing that had been taboo. Charles had told no one about this, knowing being homosexual would cast him aside from society.
But when Charles was drunk? That was another story. And this attractive man had been nice at first. It explained why Charles took the drink and then another … He had been lightheaded before he knew it and suddenly the man wasn’t so nice anymore.
Charles had tried to yell when the man had dragged him to the club bathroom. But his body hadn’t answered him. He had felt … sluggish. And looking back at it, Charles was sure that no one would have stepped up. If something, people would just have looked away almost like a punishment.
Charles didn’t remember what happened next, only some sounds that were making his guts clench at the mere memory. The first memories after that were of himself shaking on the floor and puking, not believing that this man actually dared to touch him … Charles didn’t remember being more ashamed than that day.
And then, as he had been shaking on the floor and crying, someone touched his shoulder. The woman had been so ethereal that Charles had questioned his sexuality for half a second before realizing that she seemed like she was coming from another world completely and not planet Earth.
The woman had caressed Charles’ face softly like a mother would have and explained everything to Charles. He had been forced on the remains of what had been her temple, Artemis’ temple. Charles remembered cackling like it was some kind of feverish dream. It couldn’t be possible, it had to be a prank.
Except that it wasn’t, Artemis promised him she would always protect him and that she would let no one ever touch Charles again. That as a Goddess she would protect him like they used to do when people still believed in them.
Charles had sobbed in her arms and when she disappeared, he still had felt embraced by the lights. He hadn’t thought about the myths he had grown with. Charles couldn’t have planned how she would help him protect himself.
But when Charles had crossed his eyes with the man that had raped him, his heart had sped up. Because within seconds, the man had turned into solid stone, everyone screaming in fear. Charles himself hadn’t understood how that happened until he crossed eyes with a poor woman and she turned into stone.
It hadn’t taken a lot of time for people to actually understand what was happening and who did that. Charles had been thrown out and then the rumors had spread more and more. Quickly enough, people were talking in the news about these rumors.
And if Charles had hoped he could escape Greece without a problem, without people dragging him to scientists, Charles had been wrong. At the harbor, the police had stopped Charles, people that had been at the club recognizing him.
Charles still remembered how he had been dragged to some kind of Greek lab. Then he had been sent to France and America and … and … the list could go on and on. Charles just knew he had been poked around and forced to transform criminals into stone to make sure that wasn’t some kind of elaborated plan.
When they had been satisfied enough that it wasn’t actually some kind of prank, Charles had been released even if he could be a danger to society. That was when Charles had started to always wear sunglasses or bandages to cover his eyes all the time. Just to make sure he wouldn’t hurt anyone else.
Charles’ social life had gone drastically down. Apparently, friends and lovers didn’t like the idea of potentially turning into stone. And as the years went by Charles didn’t age, staying 26 as everyone was being covered in the marks of the time. Charles watched as everyone left him slowly.
The only people who stayed were actually the friends he made in Gods. From Lando the God of Mischief to Alexander the God of and passing by Max the God of War, Charles was their favorite human, if he could even call himself that anymore.
But what Charles never planned actually happened, a cult was created at his name. The Modern Medusa, like some people, enjoyed nicknaming him. They were firm believers that Charles was the start of the return of Gods on Earth, especially Greek Gods. So they worshipped him like some would worship Jesus or Allah.
Charles had never asked for that. He had tried to tell them he wasn’t the lightning before the thunder of Zeus, that he was a human just like them and that he didn’t deserve to be worshipped but they never listened. Of course, they never did.
As the years went by, the cult actually grew more and more. Charles had never been alone again, people recognizing him from everywhere. And so, when everyone he ever cared for died because of various reasons, Charles had packed everything he cared for in his house and fled from the country.
When Charles had found this little cabin in Sweden, lost in the middle of nowhere, he actually stayed there. It was everything he could ask for and the cultists wouldn’t find him there. He was almost sure that apart from his godly friends, no one would ever find him again.
But Charles had been wrong, the cultists proving him once more than Charles would never be alone ever again. They had found him and now they were staying in a clearage not so far away from Charles’ cabin. He knew that fleeing away would not be the answer, so he ignored them completely.
But today, someone decided otherwise, because they knocked at Charles’ door. He had been playing piano when the knocks interrupted him. Charles tensed, trickling to the door. He would actually stone whoever was behind that door.
Charles padded to the door, not bothering to put on his sunglasses. He opened it but instead of finding a crowd waiting for his every word, Charles found a naked man tied on the snow, looking like he was freezing.
“What the fuck?” Charles said, kneeling next to the beautiful man. “Who are you …” He watched the man’s eyes opening and before he had time to close his eyes, their gazes crossed. “Oh, no!” He screamed.
But then, his heart slowed down because the man’s eyes weren’t blue, green or some kind. No, his eyes were a pale milky white, a blind man. “Oh …” Charles sighed. “You’re not … turning into stone.”
Charles sighed in relief, his eyes falling on a brief note tucked between the ropes. He read it and his blood froze. But it wasn’t from the heavy snow that was biting his naked feet nor was it the icy wind but the content of the note.
“Dear descendant of the Gods,” The note read. “To prove our devotion to you, we offer you this sacrifice. A blind mind that was born to never witness your greatness. A man that his blindness offers at your feet - The Modern Medusa Believers.”
Charles turned to the man, and his stomach churned. He just whispered, almost choking on his words. “What is your name?” His hand raised almost instantly to caress the man’s soft brunet hair.