Hellscape

Chapter 6: The Hall of Mirrors

    Charon and Melinoe stand in a comforting embrace, the canoe bobbing gracefully atop the Styx. But once she's caught her breath, she slowly pushes away from him, blinking in the dim glow of the underlight. His hands hold onto her waist, keeping her close to him despite her efforts to create distance between them. She can feel the depth of each one of his breaths against her palms flat on his chest and she offers him an awkward rosy smile, whispering, "thanks."

    "Of course." He clears his throat, removing his hands from her waist and leaning away from her. He brushes the tip of his nose in an attempt to appear casual, but he only adds to the palpable awkward tension between them.

    Melinoe looks around the small cave wondering how they ended up here, how the canoe they docked outside of Limbo wound up in this small dark cave. A chill runs down her spine, tingling her legs the longer she thinks of the possibilities, until her eyes land on another skinny flat ledge like the one they just jumped from. She scoops the underlight off of the bench and holds it out in front of her, squinting at the far cave wall.

    "That's a door."

    "What?"

    "There,"she shouts, pointing. "That's a door."

    In the shadows Melinoe can just make out a door labeled: Records. She steps to the edge of the canoe, teetering the vessel as she looks for a dock or a post to tie the boat too.

    "If this is it, where are we supposed to park?"

    "You don't," Charon says, comfortably sitting down in the back of his boat — crossing his ankles in front of him and his arms over his chest, his oar laying across his lap and his eyes closing briefly for a quick rest. "I've never actually seen anyone come or go from there."

    She scoffs, "you're joking. Someone must work there, this is where the souls come for review. This is where you pick them up from, right?"

    "Sort of."

    She scoffs again, rolling her eyes, "what does that mean?"

    "Nothing," he says. "I've never seen anyone open that door. Souls, they just appear in my canoe outside of Limbo. Like, one second they're not there and the next they are. I have never seen that door open."

    "Never?" He shakes his head, his eyes still closed so he misses her eyeing the door suspiciously. But as she lifts her leg to step onto the thin ledge, he senses her stupidity and jumps from his seated position, grabbing her leg in his large hand.

    "What do you think you're doing?"

    "I'm going in," she says with a furrowed brow.

    "I don't think that's a good ide-" Ignoring him, she hops onto the ledge, grabbing a hold of the door handle to keep her balance. Charon hisses, "Mellie!"

    He tosses the oar into the canoe, leaping out of the boat and pressing against her in a millisecond. The weight and warmth of him against her back, pins her to the door and his heavy breath down her neck, prickles her skin and sends a chill down her spine.

    "Well, this was stupid," he grumbles.

    "Let me just-" Grunting, she twists and wriggles around to be face to face. Accidentally, she jabs him with her elbow, slides her hands up the front of him, and knees him in the thigh. He hisses at the impact, but remains upright as she finally situates herself with her back against the door. Holding onto Charon's middle, she exhales, blowing the stray curls out of her face and tickling his chin.

    "Comfy," he asks. He leans forward, his arms outstretched above them, Melinoe clinging to him. She pulls herself up, looking over his shoulder and she gasps suddenly — ducking down and burying her face in his chest.