HURRICANE

.022

Charon led them into the elevator that was crowded with spirits who had green boarding passes. The elevator suddenly jolted forward, not down.  The air started turning misty.  Brooklyn squinted her eyes when the spirits around her started changing.  Instead of their normal clothes, they turned into grey hooded robes.  The floor of the elevator began swaying.

"Well?" Brooklyn snapped her head around and saw what Percy was looking at.  Charon was no longer wearing sunglasses or the Italian suit.  Instead, it was replaced with a long black robe and his eyes were empty.  Literally.

"I think I'm getting seasick," Grover complained as the floor swayed again.

When Brooklyn blinked, the elevator was no longer an elevator but a wooden boat.  Charon was rowing them across a dark, oily river with swirling bones, dead fish, and other things... plastic dolls, crushed carnations, soggy diplomas.

"The River Styx..." Annabeth muttered. "It's so..."

"Polluted." Charon finished. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything you come across— hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true.  Irresponsible waste management if you ask me."

Mist floated off the filthy water and lifted towards the ceiling full of gloomy stalactites.  Brooklyn intertwined her arm with Annabeth who squeezed back.  Percy and Grover stood closer together.  They all needed reassurance, that someone here was at least alive.

The shoreline of the Underworld started coming into view.  Dark black rocks that dropped into a giant wall.  There was a sudden howl.  Brooklyn jumped. "Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said, his smile turning skeletal. "Bad luck for you, godlings." The bottom of the boat of the boat slid onto the black sand.  Many people, young and old, couples and families, started disembarking.  "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there isn't any down here. Mind you, don't forget to mention my pay raise." He counted his coins before pushing off the shore and back towards the elevator.

"Definitely not in Kansas," Percy whispered. Brooklyn tilted her head.  Obviously.

"Hey focus, we left Kansas four days ago.." Annabeth frowned.

Percy stammered, "Yeah, I know— it's a... never mind."

"It smells awful," Grover said, scrunching up his nose. "Either it's the dead or there's a carton of large milk from the 1800s."

"Odd yet accurate description." Brooklyn agreed before they followed the spirits up the path.

Brooklyn had read and seen many descriptions of Hades Realm.  She's had enough nightmares about ending up in Tartarus to be better prepared than others.  But still, the place made Brooklyn's stomach feel twisted.

In front of them were three separate security lines under a huge black archway that said YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a metal detector with security cameras and tollbooths that were manned by black-robed souls.

There was yet again another howl and Brooklyn sighed realizing it was Cerberus, the infamous three-headed dog. But she couldn't see it through the gloomy lighting.

The dead queued up in three lines.  Two marked ATTENDANT ON DUTY and another one marked EZ DEATH. That lane was moving right along while the other ones were basically at a standstill.

"What do you think, Wise Girl?" Percy asked.

"That the fast line must go straight to the Asphodel Fields," Annabeth said. "No contents.  They don't want to risk judgment from the court, because it might go against them."

"There's a court for dead people?"

"Yeah.  Three judges.  They switch who sits on the bench.  King Minos, Thomas Jefferson, Shakespeare, people like that.  Sometimes they look at life and decide that person needs a special reward— the Fields of Elysium.  Sometimes they decide on punishment.  Well, they just lived.  Nothing special, good or bad.  So they go to the Asphodel Fields." Annabeth explained.