Greek Nymph For Black Demigod

I bet that when you think of an ancient Greek Nymph, all kinds of naughty images come into your mind, eh? Well, the reality is far different. My name is Electra, and as an Outcast from the Otherworld, part of which falls under the dominion of the Hellenistic Gods, I've come to consider the planet Earth my home.

Anyone looking at me would see a five-foot-eleven, bronze-skinned and green-eyed Mediterranean beauty with long, curly black hair. I don't look a day over twenty. I am actually 5117 years old. In ancient times, I was the lover of Zeus, King of the Gods. Our son Dardanus founded the City of Troy, yes, the same one from the legends.

After thousands of years as an Immortal bed wench, I escaped from the Otherworld, and left behind my friends and family. Thousands of immortal female entities that sprang forth from Gaia, the Earth Mother, long before the Titans and the Gods, bear the name of Nymphs.

You'll find us in the rivers, seas and even deep below the ground in the Otherworld. For eons, we've been the sexual playthings of Gods, Heroes and Monsters. Most of us are content to be relentlessly pursued by mortal and immortal alike, for we are renowned for our beauty and passion. I've always been different. It's gotten me in trouble a bunch of times. The Goddess Hera, Queen of Mount Olympus, swore my death. All because Zeus couldn't keep it into his pants and had his way with me. Well, I decided that my life belongs to me, and I haven't looked back since I left my so-called home world.

Having lived on the planet Earth for thousands of years, and witnessed much of history, I can honestly say that I thought I'd seen it all. In my lifetime, I've been a merchant, a sailor, a warrior, a bounty hunter, a poetess, a clan chieftain and many other things, some of which I cannot recall at the moment.

At least, I thought I had, until I met Oscar Valmont. The tall, dark and handsome, caramel-hued and curly-haired Demigod is something I haven't seen the like of in a long time. The first time he walked into the Starbucks where I worked in downtown Toronto, he looked me up and down and smiled lustfully, like so many male patrons before him.

"Damn it, lady, you look so good you make me forget what I want to order," Oscar said, flashing that fearless smile that I would come to know so well. Clad in his blue silk shirt, black silk pants and Timberland shoes, Oscar looked good, and a few of the ladies in the restaurant certainly seemed to think so but that's not the reason why I did a double take.

I am an Immortal, and part of being what I am means having the ability to sense other unnatural entities. A long time ago, the Gods of just about every major polytheistic faith left the planet Earth. The arrival of monotheism and its Supreme Being, called Yahweh by the Jews and God the Father by the Christians, scared the hell out of us Pagans. That's why they forged another dimension, and took scores of mortals from every culture, and creatures from many mythologies, with them. This dimension is the Otherworld.

The Yoruba Gods of West Africa, the Aztec Gods, the Greco-Roman deities, all inhabit the Otherworld, along with scores of other mortal and immortal entities. Given that the Pagan Gods had all left the planet Earth, I was quite stunned to run into a Demigod. For those of you who don't know, a Demigod is a creature of extraordinary power of a union between a mortal and a God or Goddess. The most famous Demigod of all time was Hercules, but he's sadly long dead.

I looked at Oscar, sniffed the air and glared at him. Understand that after living on Earth for thousands of years without seeing his kind, I honestly thought them extinct. "Um, Starbucks lady, are you alright?" Oscar said, all traces of smirking flirtation gone from his face. I think I actually heard concern in his voice.

"Yeah I'm fine," I said, catching myself and taking his order. Oscar ordered a sandwich and a mocha latte, and used his Scotia Bank debit card to pay. I offered him a professional smile, told my co-worker Yasmin his order and Oscar thanked me. I nodded and was about to move onto the next customer when, suddenly, there was some commotion.

Try as I might, I cannot remember a Starbucks every getting robbed. It's true that we do attract a certain client base, people with money, or would like to have money, but seriously, who robs a Starbucks? A burly young man with a bald head and tattoos stormed into the restaurant, and brandished a Glock pistol, which he leveled at my face.

"Gimme what's in the register and no one will get hurt," the bald dude said, in heavily accented English. He was Latin American or South American, I guessed by his accent and olive complexion, along with his dark eyes. Judging by the way he was fidgeting, Baldy here had to be either a junkie, or the world's most nervous robber. I'm leaning more toward the former.

"Understood," I said, looking Baldy in the eyes and smiling, trying to diffuse the situation. My co-worker Yasmin, a pretty, bronze-skinned and raven-haired, pleasantly plump gal from Iran, looked absolutely petrified. I opened the cash register, and Baldy's eyes lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree when he saw the contents.

"You picked the wrong store," Oscar said, looking at Baldy and shaking his head, wearing what I would later come to know as his trademark smirk. Baldy was clearly not impressed and aimed his gun at Oscar, who did the last thing anyone should do when there's a gun pointed at them.

Oscar flipped Baldy the bird, and then charged him. As I watched, amazed, Baldy laughed and squeezed the trigger, pumping bullet after bullet into Oscar. The bullets had zero effect on Oscar, who tackled Baldy and threw him on the floor. There was a brief struggle, then Oscar knocked Baldy out with one blow.

"Stay down," Oscar said, smiling and standing over Baldy's unconscious body like some kind of conquering hero. I looked from one to the other, and reached into my purse, pulling out the Talisman. As a Nymph, I possess many abilities. I can shape-shift at will, and Teleport myself anywhere, I do not age or get sick, and I am quite strong but none of these abilities would aid me this day. I pressed it, and instantly, time stopped. Well, it stopped for everyone except Oscar, and me, of course.

"Damn what the fuck is going on?" Oscar said, and looked at me, then at the frozen men and women all around us. I took a deep breath, exhaled, then leapt from behind the Starbucks counter. In doing so, I shed my mortal disguise, and became my true self.

As a Nymph, I stand almost eight feet tall, with a beautifully proportional body. Think of your favorite WNBA Player, only taller, and clad in resplendent golden robes, skin the color of burnished bronze, raven hair, emerald eyes and with pure white wings.

Oscar looked at me, and gulped. "Little man, you've used your powers in front mortals, has no one taught you anything?" I asked, my hands upon my hips. I looked down at him, actually amazed that this once-cocky young man looked like he was ready to piss his pants. One of the reasons why so many of my Nymph sisters fell in love with Demigods in the olden days was their fearlessness. I guess they don't make them like they used to.

"What the fuck are you, lady?" Oscar said, slowly regaining control of himself and assuming a fighting stance. How cute. I am a Nymph, one of the Primordial female elementals, born of the all-powerful Earth Mother Gaia, older than human civilization itself, and this fool wanted to fight me. How cute.

"I'm Electra of the Nymph Sisterhood," I said, and folded my arms across my chest. I looked Oscar in the eye, and continued. He drew himself to his full height, six feet and three inches, and steadied himself. I could tell that he found the sight of me overwhelming but he was more than human, and clearly aware of it, given how he used his powers to take down the would-be robber.

"You don't even know what you are, do you?" I asked, looking at Oscar and shaking my head. Oscar shrugged, and told me that he was an orphan, and then demanded to know what I wanted from him. I smiled and showed him the Talisman.

"With this I can not only stop time but also rewind it by a few moments so I'm going to undo what you did, but you and I will remember what happened," I said firmly, and as Oscar stared in astonishment, the Talisman began to glow until he had to shield his eyes from its blinding light. Time for a major rewind, I thought, and hastily returned to my mortal form.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Baldy the robber said, as he pocketed the two hundred dollars in cash that I'd given him from the Starbucks register, and exited the premises. Patrons, among them Oscar, exhaled in relief. I smiled as, two minutes later, a cop car pulled up and two of Toronto Police Service's finest arrested Baldly without incident. The moment he saw the cops, he threw away the gun, fell to his knees and put his hands on his head.

"What did you do, lady?" Oscar said, looking at the cops arresting Baldy from the store window, then at me. There was something new in his eyes. A certain amount of fear, and respect. I smiled at him, and told him that my shift was over in a couple of hours. I would explain everything then. Oscar nodded, thanked me for everything and left.

Three hours later, Oscar and I sat inside the food court of Toronto's Eaton Center. "So you're some kind of ancient female deity?" he said, shaking his head. Clearly Oscar was having trouble grasping some of the fundamental things I'd been telling him.

"I'm a Nymph, an ancient Immortal, and you're not human either so deal with it," I said, sipping on the Pepsi ( Oscar's treat ) and feeling more than a bit impatient. In the old days, with mortal man clashing with monsters daily, people accepted the fact that men of extraordinary power, born of the dalliances of Gods and mortal women, walked the Earth performing amazing deeds.

"So according to you I'm some kind of Demigod?" Oscar said, stroking his goateed chin. I nodded, wishing he'd get with the program. I prodded him with questions about his heritage, but he only told me that he was an orphan, and grew up in the Foster Care System. Something inside of me winced in sympathy, for I'd heard horror stories about abuse in that system.

"You and I are remnants of the Heroic Age, a time when Gods and Man interacted on the planet Earth," I said, and was surprised to find myself feeling more than a bit nostalgic. I thought I'd left the old days behind, yet, for some reason, I missed some aspects of my old life.

Oscar was a far cry from Achilles, Orion and Hercules, great Demigods and Heroes of the ancient past. Sure, he might have their power but clearly, he wasn't anything like them. Living in the twenty-first century, surrounded by the meek, metrosexual men of western society, I longed for the old days.

"I've been different ever since I can remember, and I knew I had to hide it," Oscar said, a wistful smile on his dark, handsome face. I nodded gently as he shared some of his story with me, telling me about the horrors of growing up in Foster Care, the unscrupulous people who raised him, and how he pulled himself by his bootstraps by winning a football scholarship to the University of Toronto.

"You're a football player?" I said, smiling and trying in vain to conceal my excitement. Much of the mundane world is boring to me, but football is something I find very exciting. I am a major fan of the New England Patriots, having lived in Boston during the 1980s and early 1990s.

Oscar nodded, and shrugged casually. "I love football but I really want to become a social worker so I can help people in my former situation," he said firmly. When those words left Oscar's lips, something changed in his demeanor. His shoulders squared, and his face took on a look of grim determination.

"I hope you accomplish all your dreams, Oscar, and if you ever need someone to talk to," I said, letting it hang in the air. Oscar looked me up and down, and smiled wolfishly. Gone was the stalwart, almost heroic look of determination he'd worn just a moment before. Grinning, he looked me up and down and smiled.

"Going to hold you onto that," Oscar said, winking at me. As if, I thought, and returned his smile. In hindsight, I should have known that Oscar was trouble and that I should have stayed away from him. Demigods are remarkable men but they're always trouble. And even though Oscar was a different type of Demigod, this spawn of an African deity born of an unknown mortal mother was like all the rest. There's something in Demigods that make them see the world, and everyone in it, as theirs for the taking. Some women fall for that kind of charisma. And, um, I'm one of them.

Oscar and I became friends, and began hanging out regularly. Until I met him, someone who, although different from me, could actually relate to the loneliness I felt as a nonhuman in a very human world, I hadn't realized how alone I'd been. The Gates to the Otherworld are forever closed to me, and I'm an exile because I refuse to be a pawn in the games of the Olympian Gods. I'd made my choices, and I had to live with them, I guess.

Even though I've been on Earth a lot longer than Oscar, who was all of twenty years old, there were a lot of things about the human experience I'll never get. In the eyes of the world, I am Electra Pappagianopoulos, a Greek immigrant who moved to Ontario, Canada, from Missolonghi, Greece, in 2007. I study accounting at Seneca College here in Toronto, and I work at Starbucks. No family, and very few friends outside of work and school. And that's how I like it. I live in the mortal world but I am not of it.

Oscar, on the other hand, immerses himself in the human world. Easy for him since he's half human, I guess. As we hung out more and more often, I got to know him better. I'd taken it upon myself to help Oscar with adjusting to his status as a Demigod. As far as I know, even though Vampires, Werewolves, Monsters of various origin going about in human disguise and various other entities exist on the earthly plane, Oscar is the only one of his kind.

Oscar is invulnerable, like Achilles of old, or Superman, if one considers Pop culture. Whatever ancient African deity sired him and abandoned him in this world imbued him with a most extraordinary power. Nothing can hurt Oscar. Still, when I see the longing in his eyes, and the concealed insecurity, I am reminded that he's all too human. Indeed, Oscar is more human than I'll ever be.

"This is my buddy Ahmed and my pal Cain," Oscar said, as he introduced me to a pair of tall, brawny young Black men we ran into while walking around the University of Toronto campus together. Oscar exchanged dap with both young men, who looked me up and down.

"Oscar always gets all the fine ladies," the one called Ahmed said, shaking his head while Oscar smiled and shrugged. I knew what he was silently implying, the nerve on him! I put a stop to Oscar's smirking toot sweet by elbowing him in the ribs none too gently, which caused his buddies to laugh.

"Oscar and I are just friends," I said, and Oscar smiled sheepishly. Ahmed and Cain smiled, shook their heads and wished us a good day, then walked away. I shot Oscar a look, and he held his big hands in mock surrender.

"Come on, Electra, you can't blame a brother for trying," Oscar said, and I smiled at that. We walked through campus for several moments in silence. Even though I've been around for a long time, it never ceases to amaze me, the lengths that men will go through for a power.

"Come see me at football practice," Oscar said, and against my better judgement I went. I sat on the bleachers, and watched the U of T football team as they did their drills. I wasn't alone. There were quite a few students there, mostly female.

"I'm here to watch Oscar take his shirt off," a homely-looking blonde chick said to her girlfriend, a skinny black gal, and their excited squeals caused me to laugh. The two young women looked at me, and clearly didn't approve.

"Who the fuck are you laughing at, bitch?" One of them said, glaring at me. I rolled my eyes. This was totally not happening, I thought. Seriously, female jealousy? Two can play that game. If these two girls were fawning over Oscar, I wonder how they might react when they found out he came with me.

"Nothing," I said, and ignored the two girls. I felt their hostile stares on me for a while but focused my attention on the football team at practice. There's something almost magically beautiful about powerful, masculine bodies in motion. Used to get me all hot and bothered when I watched ancient Greek soldiers in their mock-battles during training sessions....and they often did those naked.

There were no naked men on the football field, but there was a seriously sexy half-naked guy. Oscar took off his shirt and helmet after scoring a touchdown, having caught the ball from the quarterback and knocked down at least five guys on his way to the end zone. "That man is so hot," one of the girls who'd hassled me earlier squealed.

In spite of myself, I had to agree with the young woman's assessment. With my superhuman eyes, I could see every detail of Oscar's muscular body and dammit, the dude was fine. Definitely a physique worthy of a Hero, I thought, with less than chaste thoughts swirling about my head.

After practice, the team headed to the showers, and then exited the facilities. Quite a few of the team's girlfriends, and some wannabes, were there with them. It was a chilly October night, but for some reason, Oscar was still shirtless. "Here he comes," whispered the black gal from earlier, to her blonde friend.

"Hello Oscar you were amazing out there," I said, doing a perfect imitation of a schoolgirl's squeal and walking up to him in what I hoped was a deliberately provocative strut. As Oscar looked on, a confused look on his face, I put my arms around his neck, and suddenly, our faces were very close together.

"Thanks pretty lady," Oscar said, a wry grin replacing the surprised look on his face. I felt his arms pull me into a right embrace, and smiled confidently. I looked and saw the two girls from earlier looking at us, their faces filled with displeasure. I decided to really shine them on, so I grabbed Oscar, and, um, I kissed him.

They say the first kiss a couple shares is the one they will never forget. When my lips pressed against Oscar's, it was definitely something. On his hot breath I tasted the mint he was still chewing, and I almost gasped when his tongue snaked into my mouth, finding mine and entwining with it. I felt his big, strong hands on my waist, and felt them on my ass a moment later.

"Okay," I said, a bit surprised, both by what I'd done, and Oscar's reaction to it. As his teammates looked on, he kept his arm around my waist and winked at everybody, holding his football helmet high in the air. I smiled bashfully as Oscar's teammates cheered us on, and then we kissed again. Peer pressure, huh?

Oscar and I definitely crossed a line that day, and it was all my fault. There's something about this tall, dark and handsome, cocky but sweet, undeniably sexy man that I simply cannot resist. Originally, I set out to teach Oscar how to control his power as a Demigod, for we supernatural entities are supposed to live lives of discretion in the mundane world. Modern man isn't ready for Gods and Monsters. Yet, Oscar ended up teaching me a thing or two.

"Look, I know you feel me, Electra, so why are you fighting it?" Oscar asked me, looking at me with those intense, dark eyes of his. We were sitting in the Starbucks where I worked, long after closing time. Oscar swung by after his class that Wednesday, a week after we first kissed on the football field.

"Oscar, you're mortal, and I'm a Nymph, it never ends well between mortals and Immortals," I said, avoiding his pleading eyes. Oscar took a deep breath, and gently laid his hand on mine. I forced myself to look at him. Seriously, I'm thousands upon thousands of years old. I've got the wisdom of eons. I'm an ageless female Immortal. And this young man thought he could seduce me? Ha.