Tales of Myth and Legend

Chapter 6 – Medusa’s Cave

By Richard C.H. Davies

Warning this story contains: Giantess witch, fantasy fiction, Shrunken Man, giantess, kidnap, giant woman lick, soft vore, naked giantess, chase, hard vore, giant spiders, handheld, taunting, entrapment, warfare and action

Azrael – Entrance to the caves on the hill

Azrael very carefully picked his way through the entrance of the cave. 

He left the chill air of the night behind him as he felt warm air billowing outwards and washing across his face and neck. 

Something was definitely inside this cave. He could smell it in the air. He could have sworn he caught a whiff of incense burning, perhaps some Frankincense and some other oils.  

He stepped forwards with his sandals, reached down to his utility belt and lifted a torch. He struck his lighting flint and the torch flickered to life. 

Azrael held the torch ahead of him, in one hand, and his short sword in the other; as he proceeded through the winding tunnel entrance of the cave. 

After a few marks he felt like something ethereal was tugging at him, drawing him further in, compelling him to proceed. 

A voice whispered to life in his head, breaking the silence. He stopped dead in his tracks and listened.

It sounded faint and feminine, indeed the more he seemed to concentrate the more the whispers died away until he heard nothing at all. 

He waited in silence, waiting for the mysterious voice to speak again. He only heard his own breathing. He wondered if he had imagined it. 

He frowned and then proceeded forward again. 

"Welcome, Azrael of Thoricus," the whispered voice suddenly spoke, but it wasn't from within the cave. It felt like the voice was inside his own head. 

"How do you know my name?" He stopped dead and spoke back out loud. 

"I know many things, Azrael of Thoricus, master scout." He was taken aback, the voice was clearer in his head now. A female voice, that spoke with confidence and conviction. 

He wondered if it was wise to proceed any further, but the feeling tugging at him compelled him further inside. He felt an overwhelming feeling of calm and peace take hold of him. 

"You need not your sword or your torch," the voice continued, as he exited the tunnel and beheld a wide open chamber carved inside the rock of the cave. It was a huge internal cavernous space. 

The ground was generally flat and worn rock, ornate columns of stone projected from floor to ceiling, and the cave walls and columns were lined with flickering torches which were aflame with an eerie greeny orange light. 

Magic was afoot inside this place. He knew it to be true. He had never witnessed magic for himself, but what he was seeing with the flames wasn't natural, and the feeling of being pulled and the voices in his head all led him to suspect it. 

He felt himself being pulled further and further along. 

"You may sheath your sword and douse your torch, Azrael of Thoricus," the voice spoke to him. 

He complied immediately, looking around in wonder at the magnitude of the cavernous space. 

The air was warm and dry, it felt homely, but the torchlight flickering along the walls gave it an eerie atmosphere, creating dancing shadows along the craggy rock ceiling and walls. 

"Come, Azrael of Thoricus," the female voice beckoned him in his head. 

He strode forwards, looking behind columns and up at the ceiling. He was half expecting to be jumped by some kind of vagabond. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. 

He passed numerous stone columns, and a stone wellspring in the centre of the chamber. 

He stopped at the edge of the wellspring and peered downwards. He saw only darkness. 

He turned to look further along the cavern. At the far end there were long stone steps, leading up to some kind of stone altar. 

The altar was utilitarian and did not display any ornaments or articles of worship. 

There was a corridor to the side of the altar. 

"What is this place?" He called out. His voice echoed and reverberated around the cavern. 

"Gorham's cave… some call it," the female voice purred in his head.

Azrael kept moving forwards. He was none the wiser about this place; upon hearing its name. It was unlike any cave he had seen before and he had seen many. 

"Come to our chamber, a little further," the female voice called him. 

Azrael placed his sandal tentatively on the first stone step. 

It was firm and there were no booby traps in sight. 

He proceeded up the steps, keeping his stance low and ready for a fight. 

He reached the top and examined the altar. It was stained with faded blood. He could not tell if it was human or animal. 

He looked around for evidence of sacrifice but could find none. 

Animal sacrifice, especially of oxen, goats, and sheep were not uncommon in Ancient Greek society. Sacrifices took place within a sanctuary, usually at an altar in front of the temple, with the assembled participants consuming the entrails and meat of the victim. 

Azrael was not overly concerned by the sight of this blood stained altar; but he remained wary all the same. The lack of articles of worship was a red flag.  

He crept past the altar and entered the corridor. It was sharply carved in the stone cave but utilitarian in finish. 

There were a series of doorways connected to the corridor, but he saw light flooding out of the first one. 

The doorway was covered by a set of fabric curtains. 

"You may enter," spoke the female voice in his head. 

Azrael gently pushed the curtains open as he passed through the doorway and was stunned at what he saw inside. 

He saw not a hideous monster, as he was primed to behold. He was expecting the legendary Medusa, a Gorgon monstrosity with a head of living snakes and eyes shining white. 

Instead, he saw a glimmering living room, surrounded by treasure. It was lined with gold, silver, bronze, and many other materials of wealth. 

It looked like the treasure had started to be stacked and displayed neatly but over the years it had multiplied and then just been put on top of each other.