Clash of the Titans Read Online Free Page A

suckers.
    It paused there a moment, enjoying its freedom. The horny crested skull turned right to left, the massive beak opening and closing.
    "Go!" Poseidon finally ordered it, sickened by the sight of the grotesque aberration. "Go and be quick with it, lest I shut you back in your hole now."
    The Kraken did not speak, nor could its fixed face smile, but Poseidon sensed it was not impressed by his threat. It remained a moment like that, drifting in the water. Then it turned away, the eyes moving reluctantly downward. The ancient bonds Zeus had imposed on it remained unbreakable.
    It kicked once with its enormous tail and was gone, racing to the surface. Poseidon watched it depart with a mixture of disgust and relief.
    The fishermen were laughing as they related once again the story of Danae and her bastard, joking about what they might do if they happened to chance upon the floating burial chest. No need, they chuckled, to waste such a fabled beauty if they happened upon her. Once they were finished with her they could always replace her in the ark-chest. No one in Argos would know, or care.
    The waters beneath them erupted. A head far larger than their ship shattered vile dreams and dreamers into small bits. The Kraken hung suspended a moment above the sea before all four massive limbs and its immense upper body fell with a thunderous crash back to the surface. It had not even noticed the small fishing craft.
    A wall of water fifty feet high bulged upward and raced toward the harbor at the head of the narrow inlet. The soldiers on the walls saw the angry green cloud rushing at them through the windblown dust, but had no time to flee—only time enough for final, hasty prayers, and a scream.
    Tons of water swept over the city gates, sending great blocks of granite flying like grains of sand. Marble pillars that seemed thick enough to support mountains snapped like broom straws.
    People repented too late and to no avail. Waves threw them against stairways and walls or sent them spinning like dolls through the river channels that had once been broad avenues. A few refugees sought shelter in Argos's largest edifice, the royal palace. Smaller, more peaceful towns and cities had given up their gold and people to raise that wonderful structure. In isolated places its marble was still stained with their blood.
    Now vast, tireless ocean swells swept around the columns and through the grand rooms. The altars of the various gods were swept aside along with the pitiful reminders of a lost dominance: swords and shields, coins and vases and stolen statuary.
    Acrisius lay slumped still on the floor of the main hall, ignored by his people as they ran for shelter around him. The roaring outside grew louder. Water swirled around his feet, but he was unable to rise.
    Then a peculiar groaning heralded the shattering of the roof. The falling stone slabs spared him long enough so that he had a single glimpse of the awful visage of the Kraken, towering above.
    With that sight came the knowledge of the source of his sudden downfall. He cried out a curse against the gods who had chosen to punish him so; then he died, crushed like a beetle beneath a section of roof weighing half a ton. To the implacable, efficient Kraken, his was merely another corpse.
    That night it seemed that evening came early to the Gulf of Argolis. A thick red sun oozed slowly into the western horizon, throwing vermilion across a scene of desolation. Within the once proud city, nothing moved. Not a horse, a dog, a rat.
    From nearby Navplion and Mikinai travelers arrived to view the destruction. They made large offerings for many nights thereafter to appease the anger of those they knew to be responsible for Argos's fate, lest it later lap over to consume them as well. And there was less talk in the cities bordering the gulf of taking up the mantle of conquest that had so enriched the great city.
    Zeus opened his hand and blew the dust that had been Acrisius to the four winds.