Life in the Labyrinth

The following blog entries were discovered on a defunct domain hosted through an anonymous server. We believe they were authored by the figure known as Asterion. The blog titled, Life in the Labyrinth, began in early 2017 and continued sporadically until August 2024.

Only the final eight posts remain. It appears that the author deleted much of the archive shortly before his disappearance, possibly in response to an influx of unsolicited correspondence from a commenter with the username toromancer_bb

Some entries have been lightly edited for spelling and formatting.

Readers should be advised that the identity of the author and the truth of the events described, remain unverified.

Life in the Labyrinth

Post title: Stone can sweat too. Who knew?

Date: 24 July 2024

Author: Asterion

Tags: summer, heatwave, bureaucracy, glitter, despair

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the summer months are by far my least favourite time of year here in the labyrinth. As you can imagine, there are no windows to crack and no air-conditioning to turn on in this glorified stone cell. Just stale air growing warmer and heavier by the day. It used to be stifling but bearable. Now it feels like I’m being roasted alive.

Impossible as it sounds, I swear I’ve seen salty streaks of sweat leaking out of my hooves and the walls.

And the place stinks. I stink.

A stench I imagine to be most comparable to the blood-soaked corpse of Ajax, after he fell on his sword and was left to rot under the pulsing Athenian sun with no one coming to claim him. Poor bastard. But at least he got divine intervention in the end. Something I learned a long time ago never to expect, or even dare hope for.

The desk fan I found among all the junk Minos has his staff store down here when he’s done with it offers relief only for the first few minutes after it spins into life, then it just breathes fire on me like my own personal Typhon. I’ve become quite fond of spitting olive pits at it in retaliation.

@toromancer_bb has written again. Yet another physical letter. A pink envelope, covered in stickers and laden with intrusion was slid under the door this morning. This time she’s kindly updated me on her constant appeals to the court of Themis, petitioning for my release. The update being that there is no update, just another automatic response informing that the appeal will be put forward for consideration providing there aren’t more pressing matters. Everything is more pressing than a forgotten myth. It’s an embarrassment. I need a teenage girl begging on my behalf like I need more glitter in my fur. Why always with the glitter? She tells me to hang on in there. I am fuelled by spite, little girl. It is to me what ambrosia is to them and I feast on it daily.

Tonight, I will pair it with the last of the tinned peaches. I may even eat the label. A little extra fibre never goes amiss.

Post title: Narcissism is the new black

Date: 27 July 2024

Author: Asterion

Tags: heatwave, thesus, vanity, influencers, trolls

Day eleven of this relentless heatwave. My pacing of the maze has now reduced significantly. I’m lethargic to the extreme but unable to sleep, and when I eventually do, the heat-induced night terrors take over. My horns have become too hot to touch. This morning when I awoke and lifted my throbbing, sweat-soaked head, I was astounded to see they’d left scorch marks upon the pillow.

You know who else is ‘hot’? Yes, you guessed it - Thesus. Once my archnemesis, now just an unwelcome sight on my timeline.

I suppose I should be flattered, because once again he has made me the subject of his post. There he stands, shirtless, in the ruins of an amphitheatre, his muscles glistening with sweat. In one hand a sword. In the other; a can of Red Bull, held aloft and no doubt representing my decapitated head.

Red Bull. Get it? Thesus was never one for subtlety.

The caption reads: Just touched down in Knossos. About to make history! #ad #minotaurslayer #demigodaura

It would not be an exaggeration to say that my retinas almost detached I rolled my eyes so hard. This is, by my count, the twelfth time he has announced his imminent arrival to put an end to my miserable existence, and yet *spoiler alert* I’m still here. Pacing. Stinking. Waiting.

It has 187,000 likes. Everyone in the comments is hyping him up like he’s invented heroism. Of course, Ariadne is among them. My Man! You got this! [heart-eyed emoji] [strong arm emoji]

Girl, please! You literally posted a selfie with Dionysus just two days ago. I know loyalty was never your strong suit but do try and fawn over one god at a time.

I can’t help but feel like the world has inverted. The mantle has passed from heroes to influencers. You can amass quite the following by having the right aesthetic, saying the right buzzwords, landing the sponsorship deals. All while doing nothing of worth. But be a minotaur and you become nothing more than a metaphor. A myth. Or worse still, a meme.

I used to dread Thesus’s arrival, but now I doubt it will ever happen.

I’ve been left to rot down here while he builds a brand.

Post title: The heat is making me delulu. What’s your excuse?

Date: 30 July 2024

Author: Asterion

Tags: heatwave, wildfires, celebrity, boundaries, ethics

A new scent has entered the labyrinth, mixing in with the stench of stale sweat and soured tzatziki. It’s smoke. It has filled my flared nostrils, and in turn filled my whole body with panic. It’s become an annual occurrence but that doesn’t make it any less worrying, especially when you’re locked in an inescapable stone basement. Smoke means this year’s wildfires are once again approaching Knossos. How close they are and how fast they’re encroaching, I’d rather not know. Instead, I’ll mutter a prayer to Aeolus and hope he’s in a generous mood. He usually is. I mean, he’s never let the wind blow the fires as far as the palace before.

Now onto another matter that’s making me snort and stomp my hooves.

@toromancer_bb what exactly was it about my post (dated 24 July 2024) that inspired you to comment beneath it your intention to now refer Minos to the European Court of Human Rights for not having installed AC in the labyrinth? Surely you cannot be so devoid of intelligence as to have read my message to you and think that this would be an appropriate course of action? Or perhaps you’re just a troll. Like that drama whore, Eris, maybe you just want to cause chaos and watch the world burn. Well, congratulations, as it looks like you might just get your wish. Literally!

Whatever your motivation, it needs to stop immediately.

I have run this blog without issue for seven years. Yes, it is a public blog. Yes, I am a cult figure. And yes, I have received abusive comments from people who simp for Minos and Thesus. People who want to see me dead and make sure I know it. That is to be expected. But even those people close the tab once they’ve spewed their venom and they return to their pathetic little lives. But you, you are a different breed of fanatic, one that believes that access to my blog equates to access to me. You have convinced yourself that this blog of mine is some sort of dialogue between the two of us, but it is not. It is nothing more than a monologue which you keep rudely interrupting.

I’ve now lost count of the times you’ve informed me of your plans to travel to Crete to ‘try to see me’, like I am some sort of exhibit in a wretched, cursed zoo for you to take selfies with. I am not fodder for your Instagram grid. Do you not have anything better to do than to indulge in this delusion, this parasocial relationship you have entered into with a minotaur who, let me assure you, would not hesitate to crush you like a grape should you somehow breach these walls.

No, little girl, we’re not doing meet-and-greets in this labyrinth.

It is my prison. My home.

And you WILL respect that.

Won’t you?

Won’t you?

Post title: Indoor BBQ. All but one invited.

Date: 1 August 2024

Author: Asterion

Tags: Heatwave, wildfires, smoke, night terrors, Chappell Roan

Fancy a slab of smoked beef to accompany your iced summer beverage? If you want it done rare, I’m sorry to inform you but it’s far too late for that. Medium/well done is what I can offer at the moment, but give it a few more days and you can sink your teeth into a lovely charred/cremated minotaur steak.

At night, I’m a live spit-roast, rolling around on my bed and trapped between insomnia and nightmares. Last night I dreamt flames were licking around the door. It was glowing red and lined with orange. But then – pink! At first, another envelope slid into the room. Then the sound of scratching as she followed, using her long, glittered nails to drag her body under the slim crack of the door and into my room. I watched with a mix of intrigue and sheer horror as she stamped her foot and waved before me a pink rag with a shout of Ole! And before I knew it, we were engaged in a dance around the maze, with me running, snorting, bucking, with an uncontrollable desire to gore this girl and fling her against the hot stone walls. I was hellbent on turning the pink, crimson red. I awoke on the floor, panting, with my heart beating as loud as a battle cry.

The smoke is hanging heavy in the air now, bringing a slight sting to the eyes and a dryness to my throat which no amount of water can wet.

In response to my last post some of you commented to call me ungrateful and told me I should be thankful for the help @toromancer_bb is offering me. How she’s going out of her way and spending hours a day petitioning the courts and crowdfunding for my AC unit. Apparently she’s even training for a marathon in the hopes of raising money for her trip. And I’m supposed to be on my knees and kissing her sparkly Converse covered feet in response? Are you lot for real? This is insanity! Some of you compared me to someone named Chappell Roan. I don’t know who that is and nor do I care, but I assume she’s the new Cassandra – a woman cursed to tell the truth only to be dismissed. History plays on repeat.

I blame Thesus and his kind for this. They open the door to this bullshit in order to inflate their bank balances and their egos. I am not them. My door is firmly shut. And of this I am sure, no matter how much scratching I can hear coming from the other side.

Post title: The ceiling is melting and so am I

Date: 2 August 2024

Author: Asterion

Tags: wildfires, smoke, evacuation, shit just got real, shook

Knossos is burning. The fire is above my head. My prayer has gone unanswered.

Last night my night terrors were filled with the sound of drums. I watched from my bed as the Maenads surrounded me, shrieking, stampeding and clawing at my skin, all to the sound a frantically hit tympan. I screamed over and over that I am not Dionysus, that they had the wrong man but my cries went ignored. When I finally awoke, it was to thundering footsteps. For a sharp heartbeat I thought they were actually in the labyrinth, dancing their frenzied dance, but then the realisation of what I was actually hearing hit.

Everyone was evacuating the palace. I can just picture Minos running for his life. No one thought to give me an escape by unlocking my door before they left.

As the sound of footsteps faded, so did the low murmur of voices and the echoes which had served as my constant soundtrack. For the very first time in my life, I now find myself truly alone with only the crackle of fire to break the silence.

The ceiling isn’t made of stone. If it was I could hope that the flames would creep over like lava and leave me spared, but the fire is starting to breach whatever it is made of. Great design, Daedalus! About as useful as those wax wings you made for your son’s expedition to the sun. Oh, the muffled sound of his body slamming into the ground will forever be a fond memory.

@toromancer_bb Time to don your sequined cape and come save your idol. I’ll anxiously await your heroic rescue and pray my tears are enough to hold the flames at bay until I’m safe in your arms.

Post title: The dog days are almost over

Date: 3 August 2024

Author: Asterion

Tags: fire, smoke, escape, pray for me

I always dreamed of this ceiling breaking. I’d lie on my bed and imagine the vast blue expanse above. I’d reach out, clamber onto a fluffy white cloud and travel far away from here. Wherever the breeze took me. Free at last.

Now it has broken, and through my stinging, streaming eyes, all I can see is ochre and clouds of black smoke. They’re not a vehicle to freedom, they’re a one-way ticket to Hades.

Funnily enough he’s standing in the corner of the room, watching me as I cough, splutter and frantically move anything that could catch fire out of the way of the falling embers. I’ve spat tar-coloured phlegm at him several times already but he doesn’t react. Not even a flinch. He just stands there expressionless. Watching. Waiting.

There’s ash all over this keyboard, or is it glitter. I don’t know anymore. I can barely see the keys.

The holes in the ceiling are getting bigger. They’ll grow bigger still. I’m going to try and build a tower out of all of Minos’s discarded junk in the hopes I can climb up and out of this fetid, godforsaken hole. But everything is just too hot to touch now, and the ceiling is just so high.

Post title: [Untitled]

Date: 3 August 2024

Author: Asterion

It’s too high.

Post title: [Untitled]

Date: 3 August 2024

Author: Asterion

Oh father, mighty Poseidon. Do you remember me, your bull-headed shame?

Oh mother, foolish Pasiphae. Do you hear me, your forsaken son?

Hades is smirking now.