Death's Delight

The Realization

Dedicated to CarolThome for her sweet comments and messages, which inspired me to publish this chapter. <3

Flesh scrapes on bone, bare feet pad on marble, and dry gasps echo through the hall as Persephone limps to Hades' iron throne, escorted by skeletal soldiers on either side.

Her head hangs, gazing down as Hades looks upon her; looks upon the destruction he has wrought.

Her flesh, once healthy, now slips and sags over brittle bones - her stomach sunken, her ribs pronounced, her silken garment dirtied, torn, and nearly transparent, leaving her vulnerable before the stony god.

At the sight, Hades' stomach turns, rebelliously tumultuous. He should be glad, he should relish the vision of his conquest brittle and broken.

With a groan, she raises her head.

And looks into his eyes.

He stifles a gasp. Her eyes, once so full of life - brown and dancing and glorious - have darkened and dulled. The spark of springtime is torturously absent.

And now Hades knows he has a heart, because it is shattered into a thousand jagged pieces, his heartbeat replaced by a single thought, throbbing through his head over and over again.

I have destroyed her.

I have destroyed her.

By the River Styx, I have destroyed her.

Losing control of his motion, he finds himself kneeling before the empty vessel of a girl, catching her sickly face in his calloused hands, searching desperately for the goddess he knew.

For the goddess he broke.

Tears well in his eyes as he finds no life in hers.

"Persephone," he whispers, hoarse and fearful, her name not a command nor an insult, but rather a desperate plea.

He may be a god, but Hades has had no concept of eternity until this moment, which stretches on forever - this moment wherein he is cradling her face, and she is returning his passionate plea with a devoid stare.

Until finally, mercifully, she moves.

Her cracked lips part and she takes a long, unsteady, breath. Then her brow furrows, and she fixes her still-lifeless gaze on Hades.

She speaks three hollow words.

"You did this."

He cannot deny it, nor can he keep her gaze. And for the first time in thousands of years, the Lord of the Underworld cannot speak for the shame.

His throat tightens and swells, and he thinks he will choke for the pain of it all. Tearing his eyes away from her penetrating stare, he barks a command to the guards.

"Take her to the royal chamber," he barks, his voice harsh with misery. "See that she is clothed, see that she is bathed, fed."

Nodding, the guards move to escort Persephone away, but she jerks backwards. "Your mercy is poison," she hisses, in a voice that trembles and groans. "I want none of it."

"Please," he begs, and now he is crawling toward her. "Please let me make this right."

"There is nothing you can do to make this right," she avows.

"At least get some sleep!" Hades pleads, heedless tears slipping down his face. "Get some rest, please Persephone. You need rest - I will give it to you. You will have the best bed in my palace." He is screaming now - hoarse, desperate. "You will have whatever you want!"

Her mouth - still beautiful in shape and moving, though her lips are cracked - twists into an ugly scowl as she slowly stands, leaning on a one of the skeletal guards for support.

"I'll go, then. But do not think you can win me over, God of Death. You can never repay me."

Agonizingly, she leaves.

And Hades is alone.

For the first time in centuries, he feels truly alone.

Sorry for the wait, guys. Hope I caused you some pain with this chapter tho :P