Falling into Nothing

AN: This short little fic was a result of me pulling out some of my old Greek mythology books and igniting my muse. It's about Phaethon, the son of Helios, who drove the chariot of the sun one day. In short, he basically ruined everything, so Zeus struck him with one of his lightning bolts and killed him. This is me reimagining his last was unplanned, spontaneous, and edited by no one else but myself, so feel free to leave flames or CC =D


Exhilaration.

That is all he feels.

He does not care that his hands on the reins are slick with blood and slipping; he merely holds tighter.

He decides there is no better feeling in the world. It is freedom; it is complete ignorance of the world around him. He does not pay attention to the fact that he has turned the world below him to waste.

Pure, sheer adrenaline courses through his veins. He cannot tell if it is the thrill or the fire of the chariot that makes his whole body feel hot.

The chariot is now veering utterly out of his control, the stallions galloping at a frenzied speed. He does not care, though. There is no more thought in his brain, just instinct. And nothing says to him that his life is in immediate danger. The only message echoing throughout his mind is to keep going, to keep the energy coursing through his body. And he listens.

The chariot draws circles of fire in the sky as the horses blindly keep running in panic. One second it is soaring towards the clouds; the next it is diving dangerously toward the earth.

His pale hands bloom with fresh blood as he attempts to take control of the reins once more. The horses keep going, though; and he relaxes his grip and lets his red hands go slack.

Then he is falling.

The thunderbolt strikes him squarely on the forehead, and the next second he is tumbling from the chariot of the sun.

He is confused for a few moments, for he suddenly finds himself drifting through cool, empty air instead of in the midst of fire and heat. He holds up his palm to find it awash with blood. Blood, he thinks. My hand is bloody, he says to himself as the fact slowly registers, befuddled and lightheaded.

For a while, all seems oddly peaceful.

Time seems to slow around his paralyzed, plummeting body, like a soft bubble.

The voices he hears seem warped and distant, like they are coming from a thousand miles away.

He vaguely recognizes his mother's voice, frantic and full of grief, screaming his name. My mother is screaming, he thinks to himself. Something registers inside his brain. Why is my mother screaming?

His sisters sound like one, mourning eerily in unison. What has happened? he thinks, beginning to panic.

As he suddenly grows conscious of the situation, the ground seems to draw closer and he seems to be falling faster than ever.

A million words start to overload his head as he tries to make sense of everything. Fire, thunderbolt, chariot, Zeus, father, Helios, horses, scorch—

As his body finally hits the ground and his world starts to go black, a frenzied flurry of thoughts is still running through his mind.


I wrote this in around twenty minutes, so it probably sucks :/ As I said before, feel free to say anything you want about it. But I do hope you enjoyed this short little piece. Please review and leave your thoughts!