Thread: Lust of the Minotaur (MrMaster and RubyLiday)

The labyrinth had sat on the countryside for as long as anyone in the town could remember. And it had sat there even longer than that. In the time of her ancestors, it had been a hub of activity. Sacrifices had been made, like clockwork, set by the phases of the moon. Criminals accused of crime had been sent in to judge their innocence. None had ever been found not guilty. But the time of the old Gods had come and gone. Now the maze sat in ruins on the outskirts of town. None, save for drunk teenagers, penetrated it's stonework. Eleanor had grown up hearing the stories from her grandmother, who had heard stories from her grandmother, who had heard them from her grandmother. She had once been dared, by a drunken ex boyfriend, to climb over the wall and into the labyrinth. She had refused. Then it had seemed the sensible thing to do, but over the years it would occasionally float to the front of her mind and she almost wished she had done it. Not because she had been dared to, but because she had always been and still was, curious. But along with the curiosity was fear. The stories that her grandmother had told her were not fairy tales. They were tales of a monster, born from lies and lust. At the age of sixteen, Eleanor had had no interest in finding out if what her grandmother had told her was true. Nearly a decade later and the curiosity was brimming over. Eleanor watched as her laundry sloshed around in the washer. Rhythmically turning one way then the other, bubbles forming and popping. The book in her lap sat open, four hundred and seventy two pages neglected. She hated being such a picky reader, but this one just wasn't catching her interest. In a small town of a thousand people, there wasn't much of a selection when it came to the local library. There wasn't much of a selection when it came to anything, really. There where two gas stations, kiddy-corner from each other and neither one stayed open past six o'clock. One bank, two hardware stores owned by the same family. That was something that Eleanor could never figure out why. The two school buildings separated kindergarten through 8th grade and high school. The nearest college was an hours drive away. They had a grocery store, a bank, a post office, and restaurant. It was the cliche small town, but to Eleanor it was perfect. She was roused from her thoughts by the sound of bickering coming from the vicinity of the jumbo sized dryers. Eleanor sat up in her chair and spotted Mrs Bowen and Mrs Raskin, two teachers from the school adamantly discussing something, their hands were doing most of the talking. He shouldn't be able to go in there, no one should! It's just not done Both women made a spitting motion, an action meant to ward off bad omens. Can you believe that he wants someone local to take him there? No amount of money would make me go into the labyrinth. Eleanor had leaned so far forward in her chair to hear them that the back two legs weren't even touching the ground anymore. I heard he is paying a lot. They weren't being quiet but ever muscle in her body strained towards them. A thousand dollars a day! Still couldn't make me go in there for a million a day. And all because he says they are surveying. I don't know what they could possibly need to see in there. They both shook their heads and made the spitting motion again. They went on to talk about the principles divorce, scandalous in such a small town, but Eleanor stopped listening. There had been other talk about someone coming in to check out the labyrinth but she had thought it had been just that, talk. But both elder women sat on the town council and while they did spread some serious gossip, town news was not something they fabricated. It wasn't money that made Eleanor dig into what she had heard, though the money would help. Her parents had left her a large inheritance when they had died, but most of that had been put away and what little she was allowed had been used towards grandma's medical bills. What really made her inquire at the town hall, a small building that had once been an antiques shop, was that burning curiosity. As she penned out the letter she couldn't help but think of the turn phrase, curiosity killed the cat. And again when she licked the envelope and bought a stamp. This small bit of courage that she had summoned up was going 5,000 miles away. She just hoped that she still had that courage when it came back. Eleanor had check the post office every day for three weeks and every day had been nothing. She was starting to lose hope and the post master was starting to think that she had a crush on him. She could tell, he smiled at her a little too warmly and in the last week he had started wearing cologne. It was cheap brand that burned her nose everytime that she walked into the post office, but she ignored it. She was on a mission after all. She had almost not gone that day, but her courage and her hope, though dwindling, where still driving her on. It had more stamps on it then she had ever seen, in blue and red and there was a dark green one. She had almost been afraid to touch it, afraid that it wasn't real. She momentarily convinced herself that it wasn't the letter that she was waiting for. But it couldn't have been anything else. She ran from the post office, glad to be in the fresh air and very glad that she could stop going there. Her house was nearly a mile from the post office, sitting on the outside of town and she ran the whole way. Eleanor had been on the track team in school, a sprinter, and her legs ached a little as she slowed before her house. Standing on the porch she ripped the letter open with trembling fingers, her eyes scanning the typed print. The letter was from the historians assistant, a woman named Jennifer. The letter was short and to the point. They accepted her offer to take them into the labyrinth and they would be there in a weeks time. Eleanor looked at the crumpled envelope, it was stamped five days prior. They would be here in three days.