Pandora's Box

NO!!

My mouth opened in a soundless scream, hand rising to stop it but slamming against solid.

Ochi! Ochi! Ochi! I don’t want this; I don’t want to die! Please, don’t!

I threw my hands out, punching, kicking, clawing, my lungs aching as the air I breathed in, gasping for air.

“I-I, I c-aann-aann’t-” Wheezing heavily, the panic lashing through me. As if being pulled apart with wax, my eyes opened to groggy darkness, terror lashing around me as I kicked and punched anything in my reach, my lungs begging for air. Panting and gasping, I shimmied up against my small enclosure, scrambling for a hold of anything to claw out of. Something brushed against my legs, my cheeks, something scratched at my lower back, taking a choked scream that made my lungs struggle. With a wheezing cough, I shoved my hand against the wall where my head touched. The wall crumbled easily under my nails as I clawed my way through, desperation pushing me forward, light flitting through, my eyes watering and stinging and I close them, but a surge of desperation pushed as I rolled over onto my stomach, clawing through the narrow tunnel and through the end. My hasty rush pushed me ahead too fast and with a gasp, I fell through the tunnels entrance, landing on my forearms onto flat ground with the crumbled stones cutting against my skin.

On my stomach, air reached me and I drank in heavy gulps of it, my lungs gratefully accepting it all. Once I could breathe reasonably better, my body slumped in utter exhaustion, my breathing shaky, my pulse thundering loudly, sweat dripping along my body, the panic slowly dropping to a terrible chill.

My breathing grew shakier with relief, something warm and wet trailed down my cheek. I shakily raised my hand to it, feeling more wetness run down my cheek and jaws.

Tears. A choked sob, my shoulders trembling without any control, no wonder my sight was blurry. Rubbing my eyes to rid the blurriness and fight the bright light shining down where I lay, a stain on my right hand caught my eye. With a shaky hand I turned my hand around, palm up and the scar - not a stain - stared back at me. Long and the width of my pinkie ran down to the top of my wrist. A long, deep cut I must’ve gotten when I-

With a cry and jerking out of my laid position, I scrambled to knees, backing away and faced the empty room I was in, light shining through the several windows around the room at the top. I scanned the entire place, especially where the light refused to hit for anyone lurking in the shadows.

Where...where am I?

The grey stone walls were barren except for the wall I just climbed out of. A single empty hole stuck out amidst the wall, the one I just climbed out. Around the tunnel in neat rows were obvious old breaks in the stone, words carved beneath each square. Each square, wide enough for a single person.

Shakily, I glanced down around me where blocks of stone splayed around. Flipping some over, I found a couple words and with pained cry, crumbled against the wall - no the tomb in which I just awakened in.

Pandóra, Theós proikisménos

Pandóra, God Endowed.

Staring at the words, my throat felt hot as did my eyes as I stared at the words and glanced up at the tombs I sat against. With shaky breath, I focused on breathing as I glanced down at my hands, my normal flesh and bone hands. My arms, I touched along my face, neck and along my back, my breathing growing heavier as I took in everything.

I wasn’t dead...not anymore.

I slowly opened my palm up again and stared at the scar that stretched out against my hand. The memory lashed out at me, making me cry in pain and terror as if the horrors of that day were happening right now.

I died; I know I had. And now, now I’m alive.

I didn’t know what to do or think.

I’m in a tomb, with other dead bodies, I cannot start to understand how I am even here...alive.

A sudden heavy thud made me jump, my back shooting upright, my skull hitting the wall with a thump that had me cringe in pain while a rasp of stone sliding against stone echoed inside the round tomb. Through the light, I could just make out a couple figures shuffling through the door. My vision shifted around as figures moved slowly through the room towards, coming closer but stood some space away, while I pressed up against the crypt behind me.

One figure, tall, broad shouldered, shadowed behind the stream of light stood the closest, his outfit swept over the dusty marble floor, long and black.

“Eíste asfaleís tóra, paidí mou.”

You are safe now, my child.

My chest ached at the last words, and the man knelt down slowly to my level. A kindly, elderly face stared back at me, a long grey-white beard, a glint of gold on one ear, the right eye was slightly filmy compared to the left one, a couple cuts edged around it.

“Pandóra, my child, we are your guardians only.” The man spoke quietly, raising a scarred hand to me as if to placate a startled animal. “Please, let go before you cut yourself more, child.”

The words took their times to come through before a slight twinge of pain echoed through my body, the stinging ache coming from my hand, which I looked down and saw a chunk of stone grinding against my palm as I squeezed. Also allowed me to see the rest of my flesh around me, my skin bared and open for all, dust and dirt covered my bare skin and my knees shot up, my arms wrapping around to protect any bit of modesty I had left.

“Poú eímai?” My voice was scratchy, raspy, my throat burned and stifled, I gulped in air like water.

Water! I need water! Where am I?

“I... I want, wa, water...”

The man turned slightly over his shoulder and the smaller figure behind him moved closer, kneeling down before me. A younger woman, long, hair dark hair, big brown eyes, tall and broad shouldered for a woman. She held a pitcher which she tipped into a plain silver cup. She held the cup to me, which I could barely raise my shaking hands to and greedily down the delicious, cool refreshment. The desert in my throat quenched, I shakily remained against the wall, not at all prepared for as the man spoke again.

“My child, there is a lot to discuss. But the only thing I can tell you now, is you’ve been resting in peace for so long. And now you’re alive, it will not be an easy journey for you now.” The man stood, slowly and sighed heavily. “There will be a discussion once you’re more awake and stronger, but for now you must rest and we have some clothes for you.”

The water was warm...maybe too warm. I was starting to feel heavy and slug like. Much like dough, I was softening. A cool hand on my shoulder jolted me out of the drowse and the woman who had brought me water earlier knelt over me.

"No sleeping here, kiddo. Not yet." She held out her hand and I shakily took it, allowing her to pull me up while my legs still struggled to get used to moving and holding me up. The nun shifted away briefly, returning with a large white towel in her hands, which she flung around me and tightened over my shoulders. My feet shifted uncomfortably, making me sway as I had to regain my footing but the nun or whatever she was, remained patient, her arms strong and holding me as she helped dry my hair and also hold me in place.

The woman was tall, taller than me, with skin the colour of a beautiful, smooth clay pot. Her eyes were a bright, warm brown with golden flecks that never missed a thing. Her features were sharp and angled, pointed nose and chin and full dark lips. Her beautiful hair was done up the top of her head, the colour of a silky, mahogany brown. Her shoulders were broad and the sleeves of her gown rolled up showed defining muscles and her very presence spoke of absolute power.

Once she was satisfied, she led me away out of the bathroom and down a corridor, only lamps decorated the walls and the smell of incense burned my nose.

I sneezed. Hard.

And it hurt.

Whimpering, as I held my nose while it burned uncomfortably from the sudden attack and smells accosting me.

"Your body is still becoming accustomed to being alive again. It has been a very long time, dear.” The nun led me into a small bed quarters, a single bed against the pale grey, stone walls. Light coming from the ceiling in round cylinder objects. A vanity with a mirror and a large box with the doors opened, revealing what looked to be clothes. The nun led me to the bed and sat me down on the end, which my body, especially feet were eternally grateful for. My hair hung around in me in drying strands, cleaner and looking more colourful than when I had burst out of my tomb.

The nun rummaged around large box with clothes and finally pulling some pieces out and laid them out behind me on the bed. She clattered around the vanity, never not moving, and came back with a comb and stood slightly behind me.

"Don’t mind me, but I do need to comb your hair otherwise it’s gonna drive me insane."

I didn’t know what to say to that but just sat silently as she reached for my hair around my face and shoulders and pulling it so it laid gently over my back and started dragging the comb through my hair. The comb caught a knot and tugged my head suddenly, making me gasp and the nun tittered.

"Sygnómi, there. Your hair is unfortunately still knotted up and it’s just so thick as well. We might be here for a bit."

"It’s okay.” I mutter, rubbing the back of my head before settling back and letting her have at it with my hair. ”You can call me Pandóra, if you’d like."

"Pandóra, it’s been a while since you’ve heard someone say your name."

Too long it would seem. I already had my suspicions but too much time has no doubt passed and for whatever reason I was here, it was gonna be a long struggle.

"I should mention, Pandóra, that you will learn some things in the next few weeks. I just want to let you know, that you will be need to taught a few new things." I started to turn to her but she stopped me and continued speaking. ”It’s a different time...and place, from what you remember, I’m afraid."

"How long has it been then?" My heart struggled as I awaited the answer. The nun remained silent behind me, then I heard her let out a heavy sigh.

"I do not know the exact years, but it has been several thousand years."

Thousand years...

It has been too long... far, far too long. The world, how far, how much has it changed. My head felt light and I almost curled into ball at the foot of the bed if the woman didn’t hold me up.

"I don’t think you need to think about it right now, Pandóra. You have time to learn and that is what we are here for." Her hands ran through my hair smoothly and she lightly fluffed it up before moving her hands through it, pulling it through and in something until something lighter rested against my back.

"Time to get dressed now." She clapped her hands, moving away and gestured towards the fabric laid out behind me. Holding the towel around me, I grab the first bit of fabric and let it hang in my hands while I look at it in confusion. It was long, a dark blue, a material I’ve never seen before and slightly stretchy.

"Um, these are..."

"Pants, dear, for your legs. It’s common place to wear them these days." At my look, she gave a slight laugh. ”For both men and women. Dress wear is less...forced in these times. A bit of freedom for women."

Huh, well that was something.

I reached over for the other piece of fabric and was soft, a creamy white, billowy and loose with long sleeves.

"Would you like help or are you able to dress in them without assistance?" I could almost hear the twinge of amusement and frowning; I shook my head at her.

"I’m fine, kalá efcharistó." I called out after her, quickly. “What is your name?”

Smiling softly, the woman turned slowly to me at the door.

“I am Sister Dáfni.” Daphne. And she left the room, leaving me alone to myself. Discarding the towel from me, I grabbed the undergarments she had laid for me and shifted my legs through them and pulled them up to my hips. Then I turned to the pants.

With the occasional help and advice from the nun on the other side of the door, I had managed to place on the upper garment for my chest which extremely revealing but I was grateful to have a shirt to put on. The shoes were black, full coverage and ties on it, which led to a couple minutes trying to get my fingers to move efficiently and tie something up but my whole body felt heavy and slack and just so terribly weak.

Sighing heavily, I straightened up, body aching and tired but I stood up on shaky legs and movement caught the corner of my eye.

I stood before a full-size mirror in the corner of the bedroom and stared at the person within. My arm was raising without thought, fingertips placed lightly on the cool surface, meeting the other persons fingers tips perfectly. The stranger’s arm was paler than I remembered, slender and stick thin almost. She needs to eat. Glancing up, tracing my eyes from the shoulder to the top of their head, I followed the thick, wavy slightly wet strands curling around the stranger’s cheek and neck. Her neck was long, pale and graceful, that had been likened to that of a swan in the past. Moving my eyes back up, to the thick braid of dark honey hair that rested at the top of her ribcage, the end of the plait curling all over the place in soft, quick drying tufts. I returned my gaze back up and finally on her face, heart thundering as I faced her for the first-time in... thousands of years.

Her face was pale, but her cheeks were flushed from dressing and the bath. Skin clean, no dust or dirt lingered. Her nose slightly rounded at the tip like a button. Her lips, pale pink were dry and slightly cracked, a need for water was growing. A few little brown speckles dusted over her nose and fading on her upper cheeks. Her eyes - My eyes - brown and green intertwined, they were just as I remembered. My favourite part of me they used to be, bright and full of life I used to believe.

Turns out, they were just made to look all me and only me.

I squeeze my eyes shut, hating having to look at myself, disgust and despair filling me whole. My chest tightened, teeth ached from clenching and grinding hard.

These eyes, these lips, this face, the hair, the body, voice, thoughts and feelings, dreams and hopes...they were never mine. Why would they be mine now.

With a cry, the fury and pain lashed out and I grabbed the top of the mirror and yanked hard, letting it crash to the stone floor with a crash and the shattering of glass and crack of wood.

I ran my hands through my hair roughly, fingers tightening in the thick locks of hair as my chest rose and fell with my breaths. My body shook, everything just felt so out of focus and it was hard to take it all in. I was here. I was alive. I was flesh, blood and bone. Why? Why? Just why?

“Pandóra?!”

Breathing heavily, my eyes burning hotly as Sister Daphne stood at the door to my bedroom, staring at me, her eyes looking stunned and worry marred her eyes as they drifted to the mess on the floor. She slowly stepped into the room; arms folded lightly across the other as she moved towards me.

"Are you okay?”

"N-no," I shook my head, my chest heaving as I struggled to control the tornado of emotions surging inside my chest. I hunched over, my hands gripping my knees as the swell of emotion pressed down on me like a boulder. “It’s me. It’s all me, it’s all me. I did things, sister. I lost everything. Because of me, and it’s all coming back to me!”

“Pandóra, you need to take some deep breaths-” Daphne approached me, I could feel her presence beside me without touching me, but my words blabbered out without stopping.

“I-I, can’t, it hurts! I’m here and I don’t, I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel everything, I never felt so much before and it-it hurts so much," I don’t believe she understood me as the words mixed together, even I struggled to understand what I was saying as I sobbed, collapsing to my knees.

Everything came back to me.

Those supposedly, glorious few days that turned to complete utter chaos and terror and pure evil within minutes on that very night. The bloodshed, the losses, the people who suffered. My losses. It was like a dream in the back of my head, that wanted to come forth and present itself but I had to lock it away because I wasn’t strong enough or ready to face it all again. I wanted to pretend it was just a dream but it was so far from being a dream. It was real. So very, real.

"I know it does." Warm arms suddenly appeared around me, pulling me into a larger body. “Emotions hurt. I cannot even begin to understand how you feel, honey. And it’s going to hurt for a long time. So, go ahead and cry, Pandóra. I will hold you."

It’s okay to cry, Pandóra. Come here child. Come cry in my arms.

I could barely remember my mother’s voice, yet those words and the soft whisper I could just hear, I would know anywhere and my heart ached further.

Sister Daphne held me tight in a motherly hug, while the tears and choking sobs were wrenched out of me, her arms stroking my back tenderly.

There is no hurt in crying.

"How are you feeling today, Pandóra?"

"I’m fine."

There was silence after my quiet answer and the priest remained seated as he stared at me sharply.

"I’ll pretend you’re telling the truth. But there is no need to hide how you feel. Granted, I have no idea how you feel nor could I begin to express my sorrow for you because I would not know where to begin, nor would you appreciate it."

Well, he had me there.

"But there is much to talk about. This is a very, difficult and confusing scenario that neither of us who work here have been prepared or ever expected one of our...deceased, to come back from the dead." He chuckles slowly, scratching his beard as he glances around the table where nuns and young men sat around. “It certainly gave us quite a shock and fright."

"Anyways,” He shook his head. “My name is Father Mários. And like every one of us in here, we have family who laid you to rest long ago. We dedicate our lives to keeping you and certain others hidden, and keep certain denizens from causing much of a ruckus amongst civilization."

"What do you mean by denizens?"

"By that, we mean the inhumane that used to roam the lands once upon a time." I fiddled with the spoon resting in my soup as I took that bit of information in.

"You mean, like the..."

"There are many beasts. And yes, we come from a Divine Order from all around the world, trying to keep the beasts hidden from society."

"Why are they hidden?"

"This is a very different time Pandora, as you are aware." Father Mários stroked his beard thoughtfully as he stared at ahead. “Civilization has moved on and the beasts, the Gods, all those that stood out long ago amongst your society, are nothing more than just myths and legends in this day and age."

I sipped my soup slowly as it burned the tip of my tongue but I was thinking through all of that.

Nothing more than just stories to be told and admired in the mind. A scary story to grow old on. Though I had not faced the monsters or the graceful beasts that lurked when I lived at home with mother. But I had seen the horsemen running through fields with the horses and each other, ever so graceful, it was like dancing. I had seen the effects of nymphs in shallow ponds and lakes, a lulling voice but kindly towards the children.

That had been the face to face with the beasts of the land I chose to remember.

I could accept the hidden world of beasts and monsters; some monsters were better left to be believed as nothing more than scary stories. But not knowing, did it make everything better...or more unknown and dangerous.

"I, uh," I swallowed my glass of water slowly as I gathered my words. “I’ve been told there are things I need to need to know about. I’d like to start with, where am I exactly?"

Father Mários sipped his wine glass carefully as I glanced at the table where everyone remained quiet and waiting.

"The truth is my dear, you aren’t home exactly."

"What do mean I’m not home?" My voice was tight even to my ears and my heart stuttered at his next words.

"I do not know the full story, but after you passed and our ancestors took your body, after everything that happened then, they had to hide you. And they had been planning on vacating their home. Our priority was hiding you and the objects you carried with you."

The spoon in my hand clattered on my bowl, splashing bits of soup on the table cloth as shock and realization crashed into me.

Objects! The box!

"The box! I had the box! It was on me! Where is it? What-"

"Pandóra! Wait, it’s fine! The box I assure you is safe! I promise!” Father stood up with me, others ready to stand around me. He held out a pacifying hand. ”I know our promises as strangers may not be easily taken, but the box I assure is safe and hidden inside these walls somewhere. That was our ancestor’s priority. Keeping the box out of hands that would use its power. Along with all the pieces you carried on your body. They remain hidden in here."

"All of them?"

Father Mários met my gaze head on and if he was trying to communicate with me, he gave one quick sharp nod.

He knew. He knew the power behind the box. He knew the box’s terrifying secret.

I forced my body to relax, as I sat back in my chair, resting my face in my hands.

"I can understand your worry and caution. We are of the same mind too my dear. The box in the wrong hands, is the last thing we want." He patted the backs of my hands once I lowered them from my face. ”I hope you understand that I would not share with you the whereabouts of the box itself nor could I even if I wanted to."

I did my best to keep a straight face. A part of me was both grateful and suspicious. Grateful, because I wanted that box in no one’s hands, even mine. That box was my legacy, my doom, my gift and my curse.

Suspicious, because I wanted to see the box for myself and make sure it was safe and not being used at all. But I felt no fear or any real danger around those that sat around me at the table.

"You were, um, saying something about not being home. So, how far am I from home then?"

"Very far child. This is not Greece, your country of birth child. As I said, your body was brought aboard a ship. They needed to hide you and everything with you. And they landed here, or well, around and eventually here, the church was built and you were entombed. Your stuff buried within somewhere."

I was not even laid to rest in my home. The country I was born and raised on. My land, the soil of my home was never my resting place. And it cut me harshly. I would not have been laid with my family...my own people who I should’ve been laid with after everything happened. Instead, I was taken to hide like a prize that could never be shared amongst people.

"I know this is a shock, but it has worked. You’ve remained hidden. No one has ever suspected you here. Your box remains safe, out of the hands of those that would do harm to themselves and others."

"But why not take the box, and other items I had on my person and leave my body?" I scrunched the table cloth in my hand, shaking my head. I looked Mários, licking my dry lips to speak. “Do not get me wrong, Father. I appreciate my body being given a... place to rest even though it is not home, but why go through all the trouble?"

Carrying a corpse, would not have been good. Nor clean or appealing in anyway.

I shuddered, my stomach curling in disgust at the thought of what those people endured with my corpse, in closed quarters. Though the thought of them moving me around back then, I hated to think about it. It made me severely uncomfortable and disgusted.

"I cannot say, my dear. There is not much said about then. Those that came here, were efficient in keeping everything to themselves only."

“So where am I?” I finally answered after minutes of silence.

"We are in the United States of America. The city we live in is called New York City." Sister Daphne, who held me while I cried answered from my left. “It’s a long distance from Greece. And the languages here, there are many but the more common language is English.” Speaking directly to me as she stared at me sharply. “Can you understand this, Pandora?”

The words she spoke came from a different language but I saw the words slowly forming in my head and I was already opening my mouth to reply.

"I can...just barely understand." I could just begin to suspect how and why.

"Well, that’s something." Father Mários patted my hands, smiling softly. “You’re a fast learner, so you’ll be able to learn soon enough." I frowned and stared back at Mários coolly.

"No Father. I was created to be a lot of things. A fast learner is one of them."

A troubled silence took over and Father nodded slowly, lowering his gaze, a troubled and saddened look passing over his eyes.

"Yes, right." He straightened in his chair and slowly clapped his hands together once before gesturing to all of us. “Well, um, that is some of the hard things we needed to explain as soon as we could. There is still a lot to learn my dear. But you’ve got time and Dáfni here will help you. And she will take you out so you can see the world as it is, yourself."

See the world I lived in now.