Hades is my Godfather

Chapter One

The sun hangs high, casting an inviting warmth across New York City, as white fluffy clouds drift slowly as a glacier across a vast sheet of pastel blue. A spring breeze whips around the diverse city, ruffling hair and skirts, carrying the captivating scent of freshly bloomed flowers, cut grass, and street food. Car horns blare, drivers bicker over who has the right of way, and tourists trek around the city to see the only two tourist attractions they know.

At eight thirty that morning, a glossy yellow school bus, its windows down and students' disorderly conversations echoing down the street, came to a stop in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

With a pull of a lever, the doors opened inward. Students' leapt out of their seats and shuffled out onto the sidewalk in a single file line, dispersing and grouping up with their friends. Lively laughter and friendly cursing rang out, several students voicing their displeasure at having to spend the day at a museum. A few bragged about the luxurious vacations awaiting them at the end of the school year, and others quietly mentioned the urge to pay someone to buy them beer over the summer. "Just to see what it tastes like," they said in a joking manner, in case a teacher overheard.

A loud "E' una vera stronza!" erupted from the bus, followed by more Italian words in what people could only assume was a scolding.

Four students got off the bus – the four outcasts of Yancy Academy.

Bianca Di Angelo-Jackson: A kind girl in a band of misfits, she is the oldest of the four and a Yancy Academy graduate, having left as a straight A valedictorian. Her silky black hair was tied back in a tight braid and her olive skin shimmered in the sunlight like sand at a tropical beach. The only reason she was on this trip was as a personal favor to the teachers, who expressed their condolences to her for having siblings like Nico and Adrestia.

Nico Di Angelo-Jackson: A Mythomagic fanatic with a look that could kill, Bianca's little brother was the definition of a closeted emo. His black hair was always messy, like he refused to brush it after getting out of bed, and his hands were as cold as ice. It was suspected that his wardrobe consisted entirely of black clothing because it was the only color anyone saw him wear, along with his aviator's jacket and steel-toed boots. Unlike the other two, he sent chills down everyone's spine with his blank stare and the madman glint in his brown eyes.

Adrestia Jackson: With jet-black hair as wild and untamed as her personality, the six foot tall skater girl was a powerhouse and the definition of sass. In the midday sun, her tanned skin glittered like polished bronze and her sea-green eyes blazed with defiance, firm muscles embellishing her lithe form. Several rumors about her run-ins with the law and past expulsions had circulated around the school since the start of the year, giving her a troubled kid reputation. Her friends call her Addie or 'Desti.

Grover Underwood: A new addition to the group, he is not as intimidating. He was a scrawny boy with a wispy beard and curly brown hair, and he had a muscular disease in his legs. He'd cry whenever he got frustrated and walked funny. Everyone believed he only joined their group for protection.

Adorning Bianca, Nico, and Adrestia's neck, its silver sheen glinting, was a skull pendant. It was a creepy piece of jewelry, too realistic looking for anyone's liking, and the rubies in the eye sockets made people feel it was truly looking at them. As far as everyone knew, they never took it off their necks.

Nico aggressively points to Adrestia, saying more words in Italian that no one could understand, gesturing for her to get closer while gesturing to Bianca, as if he was asking her to step in or something. The girl shakes her head as she replies in Greek – another language no one could understand – and raises her hands in surrender, taking a step back. Grover steps forward, nervously putting his hand on Nico's shoulder, telling him something in Greek. The people who stopped to watch and listen wondered how one could know what the other was saying, because Italian and Greek were vastly different grammar wise. Nico visibly relaxes at Grover's words, reluctantly relenting from whatever he couldn't let go.