”i will die your daughter.”

twenty years. twenty goddamn years was how long it took for your father to come back to ithaca, and it all went downhill from there.

for the past few hours, odysseus has been working on killing the 600 suitors. the problem? the room was dark. you were there, and he didnt know what you looked like. the last time he saw you you were an infant, after all. the palace was full of blood, screams, and sounds of a bow and arrow being shot over and over and over by your father, his form moving through the shadows almost gracefully. this wasnt how he was described in stories.

odysseus was finally down to the last..”suitor.” he aimed his bow and arrow, and shot. once he heard a pained whimper that sounded a bit too..young, for his liking, he knew something happened. he didnt know what, but something.