Some said that the girl had beauty parallel to Aphrodite. Others on Olympus regarded her as polite, fine young woman. Her corn-silk, shoulder length hair smelled of lavender, and her wide eyes were a deep blue-violet shade. Her skin was lightly suntanned, and for her clothes she wore a knee-length periwinkle gown and shawl, the uniform of Athena’s priestesses.
Out of the many priestesses in her temple, Medusa was the only mortal. It had been a defect of her birth, but still she was allowed to stay on Olympus, and Athena promised her that after ten years of service she would be granted immortality. She had served four.
To the many who knew her, it wasn’t a surprise to them when they found out she was courting Poseidon, the lord of the sea. Medusa was so beautiful and charismatic it was hard for anyone, especially the men, not to notice her.
Medusa, however, was annoyed at this. In her mind, Poseidon was the only man for her, and seeking refuge furthered by the promise of immortality, she became a priestess in Athena’s temple, where men were not allowed. She was still allowed to court Poseidon as long as they made love when Medusa not inside the temple. Unfortunately this was only for three hours every other night, and soon Medusa began to grow lonely.
The hours Medusa was able to spend at home were cut in half. She deeply missed Poseidon, and after a tough week she wanted something to liven up her day. So she asked Poseidon to come and visit her.
It was a day that Athena had council with Aphrodite and would arrive at the temple a bit later than usual. Medusa waited for him by the back entrance, a place where they could not been seen for the short amount of time that Poseidon promised he would be there.
He came through the door, looking more fit than usual.
“Hello, Darling,” he said, embracing her. “It’s good to see you.”
“I wish I could quit this mundane job,” she whispered. “But only six more years and then I’ll be immortal, and I can spend eternity with you.”
They stared into each other’s eyes for at least a minute before Poseidon finally leaned in and kissed her.
“Don’t mention this to Amphitrite,” he whispered, “But you’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met.”
Medusa laughed. “You’ve said that to me many times before.”
“That’s because it’s true!”
The two laughed in unison, and Medusa placed her head on Poseidon’s chest. He grabbed her hands and twirled her around. She accidentally tripped over Poseidon’s large foot and fell to the floor. He raised his eyebrows, concerned, but Medusa was laughing hysterically. He sat down next to her, laughing along with her.
They kissed for a second time, but it was interrupted by the sound of footsteps.
“Someone’s coming!” Medusa yelled. “Poseidon, leave!”
He made his way toward the exit, but a shadowy figure came into view.
It was Athena. Her face was bright red and her fists were clenched. Her dark brown hair seemed to fly in every direction.
Medusa shrank back, shaking. “Milady,” she managed bleakly. She’d never seen anyone look so angry before in her life. How would she explain this? Suddenly Medusa felt guilty for ever inviting Poseidon to come visit her. How stupid could she have been?
But it seemed little use trying to explain this to Athena, who looked as though she needed to punish someone to be satisfied. Medusa gulped and shrank back into Poseidon’s arms, but with a wave of her hand Athena drew them apart, creating an invisible force field so that they could not be near.
“Medusa,” she said coldly. “I’m disappointed with you.”
“Milady,” Medusa croaked, thick tears forming in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“You aren’t sorry,” she replied. “You know the rules of my temple. I’ll bet you’re sorry that you were caught.”
Medusa choked back more tears, gesturing towards Poseidon and hoping that he would say something that would save her. But he remained still, instead mouthing the words, don’t let her intimidate you. Medusa sighed. That would certainly not be helpful at a time like this. Athena was a goddess; immortal, whereas Medusa was not.
Help me, she mouthed back, but Poseidon did nothing. She turned back to Athena, who was closer now.
“For your behavior, you must be punished,” she said.
Medusa gulped, scared as Athena ran over and grabbed her arm and began to drag her into the darkness of the corridor from which she came.
The goddess ran so fast that the emotions Medusa was experiencing—fear and betrayal—came in a blur and meshed together violently. Once she was free from whatever punishment she faced, she would confront Poseidon for betraying her. It was his fault—the fault of her boyfriend who, for five years had made her feel that she was the most important thing in his life—that she would be punished, and Medusa had feeling that it would not be a light scolding.
Her thoughts were confirmed when they reached an old, dark room that was empty except for a long glass cabinet. Inside it shone at least a hundred tiny multicolored bottles. It was silent for the next couple of moments, and Medusa grew anxious waiting for something to happen.
That was when Athena threw her into the wall. She hit it head-first, and her silky hair grew matted with blood. Medusa cried out; the pain felt like being flattened by bricks. She began to sob, but Athena had no sympathy. She ran over and forced Medusa to sit up, chaining her to the wall and gagging her mouth with rope while she went rummaging through the glass cabinet.
“Where was that one?” she whispered to herself. “I could have sworn...”
That was when Athena paused for a moment and then grabbed a little green jar, making it clear to Medusa that she was going to have to drink it.
Medusa shook in protest, knowing that something bad was inside the bottle.
“Ssh,” Athena said. “One little sip, that’s all it takes. It won’t hurt.”
Medusa shook fiercely now, knowing that Athena’s words were false and that her calm tone seemed to mimic whatever lied in store for Medusa. Because Athena would have to take the rope off of her mouth to give her the potion, Medusa planned to scream as loud as she could in hopes that someone would hear her and come to the rescue.
However, Athena was too quick. She forced a mouthful down Medusa’s mouth, who began to feel the effects instantaneously.
It was like swallowing fire. Her head soon felt the effects, and Medusa—who wasn’t gagged anymore—cried out in fierce pain, and Athena simply smiled.
“PLEASE!” Medusa cried desperately, “HAVE MERCY!”
Medusa soon became aware that her hair was falling out in thick clumps, and within a minute she was bald, surrounded by a ring of hair. She felt somewhat relived. Being bald wasn’t so bad, as her hair would grow back eventually. Poseidon wouldn’t care, and it would deter the men who constantly flocked to her side.
That was when Medusa began to feel like hot coals were being dropped on her head. In the center, it felt like something was trapped inside. She twisted and turned but was constantly stopped by her chains, and after fifteen painful seconds something pierced through her skin and twirled around.
Hisss.
It was a snake, and every little movement it made pained Medusa as it was attached to her skull. But that still wasn’t all. Medusa felt the wiggling inside her head again and knew that another snake was coming. It hissed madly before settling itself on her head. Thick tears flew down Medusa’s face. Somehow she knew that her whole head would be covered with snakes. She also knew that Athena would not stop.
She closed her eyes and prepared herself to endure the inevitable pain.
It slowly began to happen; one snake, then another. Her whole head became covered with hissing snakes while Athena simply watched. To keep her mind off of the pain, Medusa tried to turn her mind to other things, but found she couldn’t concentrate, instead wondering what would become of her. Where would she go? She doubted she would stay on Olympus. Would she go to the mortal world, where they were ten times more prejudiced to ugliness? Could she kill the snakes and chop them off so her hair would grow back?
Finally she heard a hiss, and then it stopped. At least thirty large snakes moved in different directions, tugging at Medusa’s skull. It hurt, but the torture was over, finally over.
But Athena wasn’t done. Not yet. She moved forward and stroked Medusa’s cheek. “Now, one more little sip of the potion, and we’ll be all done.”
“NO!”
That was when Medusa realized that Athena hadn’t bothered to put the gag rope back over her mouth. She screamed as loud as she could, but this proved to be a mistake, and Athena took the opportunity to force another swig down Medusa’s throat.
This time it felt like swallowing molten lava. The feeling spread throughout her entire body, and her flawless skin slowly started peeling away. What was happening to her? Snakes for hair, her skin gone—she was turning into a monster, all because she had made love with Poseidon in the temple of Athena. It seemed so unfair that she would be doomed to spend the rest of her life without a man by side, if she even made it through this moment.
Finally the feeling had passed through her body, although she still felt very hot. “Done…” she whispered miserably.
Athena smiled. “Dear, in time you will come to realize what is like to be repelled and feared. I am hereby banishing you from Olympus, and you shall retain mortality. Until your death you will remain alone at the edge of the River Styx.”
The snakes on Medusa’s head began to hiss, and a glow of white light formed around her, and she slowly lost consciousness.
When she woke, she found that she was laying face-down on a cold marble floor. She sat up, taking in the surroundings. It was a spacious old temple with ornate pillars and steps leading up to a tiny corridor. It was a chillingly reminiscent, but much darker version of Athena’s temple. Medusa snorted. She’s put me here to mock me.
She got up and walked around, trying to ponder what she would do. If only there was a way she could kill herself, but there was nothing, just pillars and stairs. Medusa wondered what was in the corridor. Walking up, she saw it was a dark room with a chair and tiny window. Could she beat herself to death with the chair? She frowned, doubting it. That was when she saw an ocean-blue bow and quiver, filled with arrows, lying on the chair. She could have sworn it wasn’t there before. There was also a note. Medusa picked it up and read it.
Darling,
I very much apologize for what has happened to you. When your death comes, I will tell my brother to give you a place in the Elysium. I will also try to make sure that you will be returned to your true, lovely form. No human should have to endure what you did. One mistake does not make you evil. Until then, I’ve forged this for you so that you will be able to defend yourself from all those who will come.
—Poseidon
Medusa smiled, slinging the quiver over her shoulder. Poseidon hadn’t forgotten about her after all.
That was when she heard footsteps, followed by a voice that sounded eerily familiar.
“Medusa,” He yelled. “Are you here? I heard about what happened. I came down from Olympus to come and rescue you!”
It couldn’t have been who Medusa thought. She walked outside the corridor and into the main hall. There he was, surely enough, his back turned to her. He had been Medusa’s boyfriend for two years before she courted Poseidon. They had still been friendly toward each other, occasionally flirting. If Medusa hadn’t met Poseidon, there was no doubt that they would be together. She admired his nerve, but still…
“You shouldn’t have come,” she said loudly.
He heard the voice and turned, and their eyes met. He was about to say something, but he froze, his body becoming immobile. It grayed before finally crumbling into nothing.
Medusa’s mouth fell wide open. Had she been so ugly that she turned him to stone? No, why? This was absolutely unfair. All he had done was come to try and rescue her, but yet she had unwillingly killed him. Would this happen to everyone? Not just people, but any living thing? She began to cry, touching her cheek. It was ridged and creviced. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a piece of broken glass. Perhaps if I look upon myself, I’ll be turned to stone.
She did, but nothing happened. She was absolutely horrified at the sight she saw. She looked as if…she looked terrible, monstrous; there was no doubt to that. Medusa also had a feeling that others would come to seek her and slay her, like a monster. She now understood why Poseidon had given her the arrows. Come for me, she thought, and I promise you, your life will be over.
I thought it was very well-written, but, when you wrote "He entered the room", could you describe "him" a little more??? Other than that, I really enjoyed it. I thought your word- use was very well watched, and you didn't repeat words (which gets on my last nerves- thanks) If you'll take a look at this, and review it for me, that'd be great! Thanks so much!
When you're revising this, just really think about what tone you are going for. Do you want to make it casual? Directed at a teenage audience? Mythical? Intimate with the characters? Seeing the characters at a distance? I think if you pinpoint what tone you want, this will flow much better and come together for you. 
