Chapter 1

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A/N: the mythology in this story is kind of made up. here Bucky is both the God of Death and the God of the Dead. the glowing heart thing is a reference to Once Upon a Time and there are a few quotes from Disney's Hercules. 

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You hurried along the busy streets of New York City, clutching your bag to your chest. The soft red glow of the beating heart you stole seeped through the small leather bag. Stealing hearts wasn't something you were proud of, but you didn't have a choice. You had sold your soul to the devil and agreed to serve him. You hugged the bag closer as two people walked past you, afraid they might try to steal it. The heart beat steadily against your belly, making you feel nervous. Someone in Brooklyn was unknowingly living without his heart. Looking over your shoulder to make sure that no one was watching, you rounded the corner and entered the alleyway.

Who would have guessed that the passage to the Underworld was in the alley behind a bar? You opened the door hidden behind a trash dumpster and took a step forward, leaving the city and its noises behind.

The narrow tunnel that led to the antechamber of the Underworld was cold and damp. Feeling around in the dark, you found an oil lamp hanging on the wall. You lit the lantern with some matches you had brought with you and held it high to light the path that led to the only rowboat moored to the dock. Spirits walked aimlessly around you, but you had long ago learned to ignore them. You left the lantern on the ground as you neared the ferryman. He carried souls across the river, but without the precious coin that served as payment, these poor souls were doomed to wander for eternity.

"Do you have your coin, miss?" the ferryman teased, extending his dirty hand.

"Stop it, Scott. You know Bucky doesn't like when I'm late."

Scott snorted, a sound that echoed through the gigantic cave. "The last person who called him by his name was thrown into the river Phlegethon."

Ah, the river Phlegethon. You often heard the screams of those tortured in the Fiery River. You had thought of throwing yourself into the river many times. After all, you were already destined to a life of servitude and eternal misery. It couldn't be worse.

You climbed into the boat and sat at the front while Scott used the long paddle to push the boat away from the dock. Souls swam idly in the greenish water below, some of them were familiar. Friends and family members who died too soon. The air was dank, which gave the air a particular smell and taste you had learned to associate with death. You hated it, the smell clung to your skin like smoke to clothing. But no matter how much you hated to admit it, sometimes you missed the Underworld. Some part of you believed that it was slowly becoming your home.

The palace was dark and wreathed in fog like a gothic version of the Magic Kingdom. Scott took your hand and helped you off the boat. You watched as he made his way back to the antechamber. You took a deep breath and turned to face the large double doors of the palace.

Fortunately, Cerberus was asleep. You moved stealthy to the doors, careful not to wake the dog up. One the heads yawned, blowing its fetid breath across your face. You covered your nose and mouth with you hand as you tried not to throw up.

The two dark angels guarding the doors recognized you immediately. The doors opened with a loud creak, revealing the darkened courtroom. The place was bathed in soft yellow and red lights coming from dozens of torches stationed around the throne room. The Lord's throne was set on a pedestal in the back of the room. Bucky was sitting back in his chair, a distant look in his eyes. You walked slowly toward him, bracing yourself for the moment when he would see you.

A ghastly smile spread over his face as he saw you. In truth, he was a handsome man. His all-black suit complimented his slim, muscular figure. His jaw looked like it had been chiseled out of granite and his chin boasted a deep cleft.

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