The Minotaur's Lament. A Short Story.

There can be no wretch in mythology born into such abject circumstances worse than the Minotaur. A half-man half-bull monster who never asked to be born in that way. An abomination. Too grotesque and shameful for the world to see. His stepfather's greed for sacrificing what was a gift from a god that is due back to that god. His mother's bestial lust for that bull, the curse of a god. Cast into a dark forlorn labyrinth, all alone except for his stepsister's comforting words and the horrifying food he was given ritually every seven years of seven virgin males and females from Greece. His gruesome and miserable life was brought to an end by a golden boy, a hero, always adulated and cherished - Theseus. This is the story of his release from a miserable life as told by him.

The Minotaur speaks to us his lament:

I never asked to be born in this way. What kind of a god punishes the innocent for another's sin? My stepfather, King Minos, was greedy for the bull gifted to him by Poseidon. King Minos wanted a magnificent white bull from Poseidon, the God of the Sea. Seeing Minos's piety and devotion to him, the master of the sea gifted him the most magnificent white bull that Gaia, Goddess of the Earth, will never bestow on a mortal. The bull strode out of the emerald blue of the sea and headed straight to King Minos. Minos was thrilled beyond his ability to contain himself. Never had he or anyone beheld such a wondrous sight. Ivory-hued, gentle-eyed, sweet-smelling, and beautiful of disposition was the bull from the sea. Minos prepared a special stable for the bull and spent days and nights admiring the creature. He fed it with the beast olives and gave it to drink the sparkling water from the peak of Mount Ida. 

The high priestess cautioned Minos that any gift from the gods must be returned in some form to them. The gods give nothing for free, however much a mortal deserved it. Minos didn't listen to her. Her emphatic pleas fell on ears that might as well be filled with wax. I know the priestess. Richly dressed in finest cloth, splashed in vibrant colors laid out in stripes. Her long hair, well combed and dressed, hung down to her chest. The high priestess and her priestesses didn't hate, loath, or fear me. They pitied me and often spoke to me through holes in the ceiling of the labyrinth.

King Minos, my stepfather, is still pink with yesterday's blessings. Still strong despite the silver in his hair. Strong of appearance. An indomitable and powerful man who exuded power. Wise, clever yet heartless, merciless and cold. he ruled with an iron fist. The Greeks dreaded him while his people adulated him, though they secretly feared him.  

My mother, Queen Pasiphae, didn't want anything to do with me. She, my mother, knowledgeful of the curse on Minos and helpless to act against the magic of a god, abandoned me. Too ashamed, she hid in the palace. Ariadne, my half-sister told me that my mother was once so beautiful, and had now become as haggard as a crone when she beheld me at my birth. She screamed in terror at the monster she had borne. Now she sits alone in her chamber, attended by handmaidens. Ariadne told me even a gorgon will shudder at the sight of her.

Ariadne was beautiful, with long dark hair, milky white of complexion and her soul, pure as gold. My comfort, my solace, and beloved sister. She alone in my half family was the only real family I had. Yet, when Theseus arrived, she too betrayed me and in turn betrayed by her lover. She escaped the insanity that surrounded me when Theseus arrived on Crete's resplendent shores.

My mind was haunted with the cries of my sacrificial victims. I long lost count of the number of young men and women I had killed and devoured. Their screams of fear, their anguish as well they entered the gloomy poorly lit labyrinth. That was how I came to be cast as a cannibal, a hideous monster whose mouth drools with wine red blood and yellow mucus filled spit. My head sporting ivory horns, a face that will even make a Gorgon shudder with terror, an evil demonic entity, cast away from sight. Do you think that I am a beast so cruel that I eat people? Eat the virginal innocents sent to me to avenge my stepbrother, Androgeus's, death at the hands of jealous Athenian youths. What is it to me if the Athenians were jealous of a capable athlete like Androgeus? I never knew him but I sympathise for his death for beloved Ariadne.

For many years I have been incarcerated in this dank cold gloomy prison-the labyrinth. The putrid stench of rotting human remains, and my own bodily waste made the air so rancid, that I left some parts of the labyrinth free so that I can breathe easily. You have no idea of what abject squalor is until you are imprisoned in an awful lamentable place like I am. It is dimly lit with torches thrown into it from trapdoors in the above ceiling that punctuate the ceiling by terrified slaves. With the torches, chunks of meat and beakers of water are regularly thrown at me as if I was a lowly unwanted dog when there was no human meat to devour. I stalk the twisting turning winding corridors of my filthy but ingeniously designed labyrinth. This doleful gulf, the labyrinth is my torment for something that was never my doing.

A person is a monster if you allow that person to be a monster. We are not born monsters. We are made into monsters. We become what others think we are or want us to be by allowing not us to be good people. We are never given any chance of redemption. We are never allowed to rise above our predicament. We react in kind and are pronounced as monsters without realizing that we merely react to how we are treated because we are helpless. If they can get some chance of redemption, if they can get some sort of reprieve, they will do so, even if it is near the time for them to die.

But today I think it will be my last on this horrid island so paradoxically set in the emerald blue of the splendid Aegean Sea. Today Ariadne told me that a splendid magnificent and handsome prince from Athens is here. His name is Theseus. He has come with virgin young men and women. Ariadne told me that Daedalus has given her a ball of string- the clue- to help Theseus find and kill me. She too will leave this awful island with her lover, in spite of her tyrannical and merciless cruel father. Ariadne had earlier bargained with mighty Zeus, the all father, that I will go to Elysium when I die. Zeus, tired of Minos's cruelty towards me and Poseidon’s, his brother, indifference towards me, in a great vision appeared to Ariadne, and agreed with her that I will go to Elysium. We agreed that it is only way I can get out of my misery and spare others of their suffering- the poor Greek boys and girls. 

Into this woeful doleful and hideous gulf come the Greek youths. Seven innocent boys and seven innocent girls. Fear not my brave Greeks, today the Minotaur will be no more. Your prince, the Greek golden boy-Theseus, will slay me. Ha ha! In your silly face king Minos, Theseus is being helped by Ariadne, your sweet princess, I hope that that Greek golden boy dispatches you after me. 

Wait! Now comes a cry calling my name. It is my liberator. I must do battle. I am the Minotaur, the slayer, the monster, but you do not know this, the fighter. I will die fighting. I reach for my double-bladed battle axe and sally forth. Happily, and merrily and with bravery I will die. For today, I will be free.

I saw the dimly lit hero and he saw me. He charged roaring like a boy on a testosterone 

fueled charge, and I, with a mighty roar that can shake mighty Olympus, making the ceilings to collapse, it pillars to fall in a thunderous crash. Charge I did and we fought. A sapling is what this Greek golden boy is, but a doughty fighter nonetheless. Finally, in a clever thrust of his sword into my heart, I felt a sharp pain. OH! What paradoxically sweet pain. For in pain I died. Breathing one last roar and blowing my final breath into my slayer's face, I die. I the Minotaur have breathed my last. Soon, in Elysium's golden fields I will stride. Mighty and proud, but feared not, the Minotaur.