In ancient mythology Medusa had the power to turn into stone whoever looked at her. But this female monster, according to another myth, was in fact a lush, beautiful girl who loved Perseus, the son of Zeus, and attracted the hatred of Athena as a result of that love. An envious Athena later turned Medusa's long hair into snakes. The girl, forever embittered and vengeful, started to command that terrible power of hers, until her head was cut off by Perseus, the man she loved.

Realized with force and artistry, the Medusa heads of the cistern, placed upside down or on one side, lips tightly closed and eyes shut, has further mystified this place, imbuing it with a dark regality. Yet if Medusa's fire of anger is impossible to put down, then there was something else that must have charged this place since its completion.

That is the sorrow, and possibly rage, of those who died building the cistern. Among all the pillars, there is one that is never dry. Water keeps seeping through and, according to a tour guide, the drips are tears of the coolies on whose bones the underground edifice sits.

The rediscovery and restoration of the cistern was just as dramatic. Locals had been taking buckets of water from large well holes, where they also fished. When comprehensive restoration took place in the mid 1980s, workers extracted 50,000 tons of mud and, according to rumors, more than a few corpses believed to be the victims of unsolved murders.