Chapter 17: Sinful Blues

"Hah, well! You truly live up to your name. ~Love Machine.~"

Laying on a massive heart-shaped bed is an alluring lady with the fairest skin, long, wavy golden hair, soft ocean-blue eyes, and soft, firm lips. Her bare, well-formed figure barely being covered by the sheets of the bed.

Greek Goddess of Love and Beauty

Aphrodite

Getting dressed is a pale yet surprisingly stunning man with raven black hair that touches his shoulders, a nicely pruned black beard, and dark hazel eyes. He buttoned up his white dress shirt as he wore blackish-blue wool pants with a long red sash around his waist and leather dress shoes.

"Hehehe, I'm happy to meet your satisfaction," The man said with a Russian accent.

The Immortal Monk

Grigori Rasputin

"Indeed you have," Aphrodite said as she got up to look out from the window.

Her hair covers her chest as she admires Heaven's scenery.

"Gorgeous. To think this will soon be mine. Oh, I have so many plans for my version of Heaven."

As Rasputin goes to get his black priest coat, he asks his sponsored goddess a question.

"Yes, there's something that intrigues me about you wanting Heaven. You can basically get everything with your beauty. So why worry about this tournament?"

Aphrodite turns to Rasputin and smirks the monk.

"Well, let me ask you something, Rasputin? You know Athena, you don't?"

"Oh, yes. The virgin goddess herself. Such beauty wasted, in my humble opinion," Rasputin replied with a devious grin.

Aphrodite's smirk turns to a disdainful scowl.

"Yes. The pure one. Zeus's favorite. Her holier-than-thou attitude disgusts me. Always thinks she's too good to frolic with men. Hah!"

Aphrodite's smile then returned as she balled her fist tightly.

"But when I won, and she lost in Historiamachy. Then she will have to serve me. Imagine the wise and tactical Athena under the thumb of lil' old me? Hehe, it will be her ultimate embarrassment!"

"Hmm, in a way, you want to knock her down a peg," Rasputin said, fastening his coat. 

"Oh yes, and show Zeus that I came to win. This is MY moment. And with your immortality, all of Heaven will adore ME!!!!" Aphrodite yelled cheerily, with her arms outstretched.

Rasputin chuckled as he grabbed a wide white stole scarf with silver embroilments and put it over his shoulders.

"Well, I can promise this, dear Aphrodite. I will kill whoever stands in your way of conquest. And then, maybe she and the other goddesses will be part of my harem."

"Yes, but first, we have to deal with Anansi's first. I feel bad that I beat him at his expense, but as my Ares always says."

Aphrodite licked her lips as she gave a twisted grin.

"Shed the blood of all your enemies on your path to conquest!"

In the sky booth, Hera took a sip of her wine as she looked at the upcoming match that would proceed at any moment.

"Rasputin versus Johnson. Hmm, I will say that Aphrodite used her brain to pick someone who's nearly unkillable. So, hopefully, we'll get a victory for the Olympians."

Then Horus is heard chuckling as he eats grapes from the charcuterie board.

"Oh, Hera. You are such a delight. But I'm afraid it will be we Egyptians reigning over Heaven."

"Oh really?" Hera retorts, swirling the wine in her hand.

"I mean no offense to you, Hera. However, I do remember that my grandfather was the one to offer sanctuary when your pantheon had a Typhon problem," Horus glancing at the queen with a sly smirk.

"Oh, yes. Ra was honestly a sincere god. As well as your father. But it seems rulership dulls away your manners," Hera smugly replied.

 Hera and Horus had an intense staredown across from each other. Many of the gods felt the fiercest auras radiating from the two. Most gods weren't surprised at this occurring often with those two. Zeus audibly sighed at the bickering between his wife and Horus.

"Oh, dearie me! Are Horus and Hera fighting again? Of course, I do love me some drama." 

Aphrodite enters the room wearing a revealing light pink toga dress, shiny pearl earrings, a gold band bracelet around her left wrist, a jewel-adorned belt, and an anklet on her right ankle.

As she walked in, a few of the other servers gazed in admiration at her stunning appearance. Lugh and Heyoka's jaws dropped at Aphrodite as she blew a kiss at them.

Then Aphrodite took the seat where Ares once sat between Amaterasu and Athena.

"Aphrodite," Athena dully said. 

"Athena," Aphrodite replied smugly.

"So, Athena," Aphrodite continued. "Are you excited for my champion to win?"

Athena merely glances at the love goddess with an unamusing demeanor.

"You know, Aphrodite. I don't know why you held a fruitless grudge, but it's always tiresome."

Aphrodite harshly sniggers, "Always with that sharp tongue of yours. Heh, whatever. Because I'm feeling good about this match. Considering that I have a man whose resiliency is unparalleled!"

"Yes, and I can see some of the afterglow," Athena bluntly said before she took a slip of ambrosia.

Aphrodite glares at Athena while Nike giggles under her breath.

"Try making jokes, Athena! But we'll see who's laughing once Rasputin wins his match," Aphrodite declared with her pride and jealousy blending together.

"If you say so," Athena retorted with a smirk.

Anansi entered the skybox, forcing himself to act his usual fun-loving self.

Zeus looks over and greets the spider god.

"Anansi! Good that you finally joined us! Care to take a seat to watch the match?"

Anansi chuckled, "I could, but I'm fine sitting near the bar. But I do appreciate-"

Anansi's eyes widened as he saw Hades and Persephone sitting at a table near him.

"L-lord Hades?! Lady Persephone? You're both here in Heaven?"

Hades and Persephone looked at Anansi, slightly puzzled at his minor outburst. 

"Well, of course, Lord Anansi. We're here for Melinoe," Persephone explained to him.

"Oh, I see. Sorry, I'm merely shocked that Hades isn't cooped up for a change," Anansi joked, to which Hades chuckled slightly.

"Alright, I give you that," Hades replied amusingly.

As Anansi heads to the bar area, his thoughts race with anxiety over Kalfou's threat from earlier.

"Imagine the kind and generous Anansi having a secret to ruin your reputation. Face it, I hold the cards, and you should play ball. Hmm?"

The audience awaits the fourth match to begin as dusk settles. The onlookers witness the arena stage, which resembles a massive graveyard. It is completed with tombstones, wicked trees, and cool dead glass. 

"Hmm? It seems the next match will be themed around death," Benkei said, observing the field.

Tomoe got off her seat and briefly stretched her back.

"Well, with that. I might as well prepare for my fight next."

Tomoe turned to Benkei and smiled, brimming with confidence.

"Wish me luck, Benkei-sama!" 

Benkei nodded, for he had his comrade's support. Tomoe then looks to Nohime with a judgemental glare as if she expects some backhanded remark.

"All I can say is don't die," Nohime said without looking at Tomoe.

Nohime then smirks as she sharply glances at the samurai.

"Because if anyone is going to kill you, it's better at the hands of a Saito than some brutish murderer."

Tomoe snickers, "Will see about that, bug."

After that exchange, Tomoe leaves the stands to prepare for her matchup. The spotlight once again shined on Hermes at the center of the cemetery.

"Dearly departed, we are gathered here in this necropolis for a supernatural showdown!"

The audience of man, god, and angel alike cheered for more of the high-paced bouts.

"Now, this graveyard is a battle between two men. A sinful monk who refused to die in his mortal life. And a musician who played by the devil's whims. Let's have our first combatant come out first!"

Hermes points to the western gates as the giant doors begin to open. However, instead of any extravagant entrance or any signal of arrival, a man merely walks out to the cemetery with no fanfare.

The unimpressive, lean man has a dark brown complexion, short black hair, dull yellow eyes, and a soul-patch beard. His attire was no better as it only consisted of a maroon buttoned shirt, a black vest, matching black dress pants, and semi-polished leather shoes. In his mouth is a light cigarette, and he holds a wooden guitar case in his right hand.

'Wow, way to kill your hype, pal.'

As Hermes thought, the audience was expecting more, but their excitement was quickly killed.

With a sigh, Hermes continued to announce the man, hoping to salvage the excitement for this bout.

"Ahem! It was a cold Autumn night in Cleveland, Mississippi. A poor, unfortunate man stood at the crossroads to meet someone who would change his fate. At midnight, the man met the devil and sold his soul to master the very essence of music!"

As the man strolls through the graveyard, the voice of Met Kalfou whispers into his mind.

"Now, my brightest star. Give these damn fools one hell of a show."

The man slightly grimaces as he continues on his way.

"When he was young, this man fell in love with jazz during the tumultuous times for African Americans in the United States. Despite his passion, he unfortunately lacked the skill to express the music in his soul. So, as the legend goes, he sold his very being to finally tune his musical arts. As of this, he is known as the King of the Blues! So, is the legend true or false? Everyone, representing the spider god, Anansi! Please welcome...!"

The blues musician stopped at the center and blew smoke from his mouth, looking uninterested in anything.

"ROBERT JOHNSON!"

The Man of the Crossroads

Robert Johnson

The entire arena was silent due to Robert's lack of energy, and the crowd was displeased by this.

"Seriously? This is the famed Robert Johnson?" A minor god sneered

"I agree with you! This guy acts like he doesn't want to be here," A human yelled in contempt.

"Man, he's such a downer," An angel warrior said, looking bored.

In the skybox, Loki watches this from the screen and softly giggles.

"Wow, Anansi. Your champion is all gloom. I get he's fighting for his life, but at least put a pep in your step."

Anansi didn't answer as he looked at Robert with pity.

'I don't blame him for feeling that way. After all, being Kalfou's servant is a fate worse than death.'

Meanwhile, Robert sits on the grass near a rectangular tombstone while placing his guitar case beside him.

"Hey, Message Man," Robert said flatly to Hermes.

"Uhh, I beg your pardon?" Hermes answered, being disrespected by Robert's nickname for him.

Robert takes another puff of his cigarette before tossing it on the dead, grassy ground.

"Just call the pervert here, alright. I want to get this over with," Robert handwaved, much to Hermes's irritation.

'Usually, I am supposed to be impartial when it comes to these fights. But now, I want this douchebag to get fucked up royally!'

Hermes's newfound anger fuels him to announce Aphrodite's champion.

Alright! Up next is the combatant, who will bring some energy to this arena! Representing Olympus's own, Aphrodite is this man!"

As the Eastern Gates opened, a group of ghostly, beautiful women in flowing white dresses danced out the doors. 

"Being accompanied by the samodivas is a man who walks the line of vice and virtue. Born into a peasant family, he embarked on a journey to seek religious sanctity! Along his journey, his worldly desires push him to be loved and hated in Russia."

While the samodivas danced, Rasputin strode among them, basking in his glory.

"His fame in the mystic arts led to him becoming the family advisor to Emperor Nicholas II and the Romanov family! But eventually, he was in the crossfire of those who saw him as a threat to the Russian Empire. But this monk withstands poison, stab wounds, and gunshots, only to succumb to the depths of the Neva River! Will this man live up to his moniker, The Immortal Monk?! Welcome, the champion of Aphrodite!"

Rasputin then grabbed one of the nymphs and danced with her before doing the trademark dip.

"GRIGORI RASPUTIN!"

The crowd came alive as they cheered and chanted for Rasputin's name. The samodivas departed from the field with the one Grigori planting a kiss on his cheek.

Robert gets up and meets Rasputin as the crisp, chilling air blows between them.

"So, you're the man who can't be killed, right?"

Rasputin beamed with pride as he declared, "Why yes I am! Unfortunately, you're facing the Love Machine. The Immortal Monk! The-"

"Damn, you talk too much," Robert Johnson interrupted the monk. "Let's just get to the killing and get this over with."

Rasputin was fascinated by Robert's audacious attitude, and a twisted smile spread across his face.

"Wow. Wow. WOW! Aren't you eager to die?"

After reaching into his robes, Rasputin produced a pair of lengthy red rosaries with sickles attached to them.

"You'll come to regret it, мой друг!"

Hermes raised the mic to his mouth as he prepared for the fourth match of Historiamachy to begin.

"Here we go! Historiamachy: Fourth Match! Representing Aphrodite, Grigori Rasputin! Representing Anansi, Robert Johnson! Are you ready, men?"

Rasputin sinisterly grins while Robert lights another cigarette with a lighter.

"FIGHT!"

The Fourth Bout between Sinners Begins...!

But It May Not Go the Way You Think...!