This story is a work of fiction. Any relation to any persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This story contains male-to-male sex between consenting adults. If you are under the age of 18, or if it is illegal in the area in which you live to read such materials, please continue no further. This story is copyrighted by the author, and no portion of this story may be copied, distributed or republished without the author's express, written consent.
Brett's Hercules - by Catgenie [Gay Male Stories/Science Fiction or Fantasy]
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Chapter six - when tragedy struck
The sun beat down mercilessly on the fields, turning the air thick and heavy. Brett, his muscles rippling with newfound strength, worked alongside Hercules, his heart filled with a sense of contentment. He had never felt so powerful, so capable, so alive. The gift Hercules had bestowed upon him, the sharing of his divine essence, had transformed him, making him stronger, faster, more resilient. He felt a surge of gratitude for the man he loved, a man who had not only given him his heart but also a part of himself.
As the sun began to set, a shadow fell across the field, a chilling darkness that seemed to emanate from the nearby forest. A low growl echoed through the air, a sound that sent shivers down Brett's spine.
Hercules, his senses alert, sensed the danger.
"Brett," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Take cover!"
He drew his sword, his eyes fixed on the approaching threat. From the depths of the forest emerged a creature of nightmare, a monstrous wolf-like beast with razor-sharp claws, venomous fangs, and eyes that glowed with a malevolent light. It was a creature of darkness, a creature of vengeance, an old foe of Hercules, a creature known as the Lycaon. The Lycaon, driven by a thirst for revenge, lunged at Hercules, its claws slashing, its fangs bared. Hercules, his reflexes honed by years of battle, parried the attack, his sword clashing against the creature's claws. He fought with the strength of a god, his every move precise, his every strike powerful.
Brett, watching in horror, saw the Lycaon lunge at Hercules, its fangs aimed at his neck. He knew he had to act, to protect the man he loved.
He charged forward, his newfound strength surging through him, and threw himself in front of Hercules, just as the creature's fangs were about to sink into Hercules's flesh. Hercules, seeing Brett's intention, pushed him out of the way, taking the brunt of the attack. The Lycaon's fangs sank into his arm, a searing pain shooting through his body.
Hercules, seeing Brett unharmed, roared with fury. He unleashed a torrent of blows, his sword flashing, his strength overwhelming the Lycaon. He drove the creature back, forcing it to retreat into the depths of the forest. But the battle had taken its toll. The Lycaon had already sunk its fangs into Hercules's arm, injecting its deadly venom, when he shielded Brett from the attack.
Hercules, his strength waning, staggered back, his face contorted in pain. He looked at Brett, his eyes filled with concern. "Brett," he whispered, his voice weak. "I... I've been poisoned.". He collapsed to the ground, his body wracked with pain, the venom coursing through his veins. Brett, his heart filled with despair, rushed to his side. He had saved Hercules from the Lycaon's attack, but he had not been able to save him from the poison.
Brett, his heart heavy with despair, used his newfound strength to lift Hercules onto his shoulders. He carried his beloved through the dense forest, his muscles burning with exertion, his mind filled with a desperate hope. He had to reach the city, find a doctor, someone who could save Hercules. He stumbled into the bustling city streets, his arrival causing a stir among the townsfolk. They had never seen a man other than Hercules who is so strong, so capable, yet his face was etched with a grief that was palpable. He ignored their stares, his only focus on finding help for Hercules. He found a renowned physician, a man known for his knowledge and skill. The doctor, upon seeing Hercules's condition, shook his head sadly. "The poison of the Lycaon," he said, his voice somber. "There is no known cure."
Brett's heart sank. He had been so hopeful, so sure that someone, somewhere, could save Hercules. But the doctor's words were a cruel blow, a confirmation of his worst fears. He watched as Hercules writhed in pain, his face contorted in agony, his body wracked with the effects of the venom. As he sat by Hercules's bedside, his mind raced, searching for a solution. He remembered the stories Hercules had told him, the tales of ancient myths and legends, of gods and monsters, of oracles and prophecies. He remembered Hercules mentioning the Oracle of Delphi, a woman said to possess divine knowledge, a woman who could see the future, a woman who might hold the key to saving Hercules.
He looked at Hercules, his face pale and drawn, his breath shallow. He knew he had to act, to do something, anything, to save the man he loved.
He asked the doctor to tend to Hercules, promising to return as soon as possible. With a renewed sense of purpose, Brett set off for Delphi, his heart filled with a desperate hope. He knew the journey would be long and arduous, but he was determined to find the Oracle, to seek her wisdom, to find a way to save Hercules. He had to believe, he had to hope, for the sake of the man he loved, for the sake of their love, for the sake of the future they had dreamed of together. He traversed treacherous mountains, crossed raging rivers, and navigated dense forests, his mind consumed by the image of Hercules lying weak and suffering. Finally, he arrived at the Oracle's temple, a grand structure perched atop a windswept cliff. The air crackled with an unseen energy, and the scent of incense hung heavy in the air. Brett entered the temple, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.
The Oracle, a wizened woman with eyes that seemed to pierce through his soul, sat upon a throne of carved stone. She spoke in a voice that echoed with ancient wisdom, her words both comforting and chilling.
"You seek a cure for your beloved," she said, her gaze fixed on Brett.
"But the path to healing is fraught with peril. The poison of the Lycaon is a powerful curse, and its antidote lies hidden in a place of darkness and despair."
She described a journey to the heart of a forgotten land, a place where shadows danced and whispers echoed. The path was fraught with danger, filled with trials and tribulations, and the cure itself was guarded by a creature of immense power.
"To save your beloved," the Oracle continued, her voice growing grave, "might cost you your life."
Brett's heart sank. He knew the Oracle spoke of a true sacrifice, something that could cost him his life. But he also knew that he would do anything, give up anything, to save Hercules. He had found a love that transcended the boundaries of the ordinary, a love that had given him strength, purpose, and a sense of belonging he had never known. He would face the trials, he would conquer the dangers, for the sake of his love, for the sake of Hercules. He would find the cure, even if it meant losing everything else. He would save the man who had given him everything, the man who had shown him the true meaning of love, the man who had become his everything.
The Oracle's words echoed in Brett's mind as he left the temple, the weight of her prophecy pressing down on him. The journey to the forgotten land was described as a descent into darkness, a passage through a realm where the sun never shone and shadows ruled. The Oracle spoke of a place called the Shadowlands, a land shrouded in perpetual twilight, where the air hung heavy with the scent of decay and the sound of whispers carried on the wind. The Oracle had given him a map, a cryptic parchment that seemed to shimmer with an inner light. It depicted a winding path, a treacherous route through a labyrinth of caves, across desolate plains, and into the heart of the Shadowlands. The map was more than just a guide, it was a key, a conduit to a hidden world, a world that lay beyond the veil of reality.
The Oracle had also spoken of the creature that guarded the cure, a creature of immense power, a creature of shadow and darkness. She had described it as a guardian, a protector of the Shadowlands, a creature that would test Brett's courage, his strength, and his love. She had not named the creature, but she had hinted at its nature, its purpose, and its power. Brett knew that he was not alone in this quest. The Oracle had spoken of the power of love, of its ability to overcome even the greatest obstacles. She had said that Brett's love for Hercules would guide him, protect him, and empower him. She had said that his love was a beacon, a light that would pierce the darkness and illuminate the path to the cure.
He knew that the journey would be fraught with danger, that he would face trials that would test his very soul. He knew that he might not survive the quest. But he was determined, he was resolute, he was driven by a love that was stronger than fear, stronger than doubt, stronger than death itself.
He would save Hercules, even if it meant losing everything else.