Dungeon of Torment

35. Sun is Fire

The guards exchanged a judgemental look over Hades' head.

"You want to recruit more Hybrids?" Chinchilla questioned, his voice slow and thickly accented. Hades didn't look up from his paperwork.

"They are the future," Hades replied.

"Freaks," Chinchilla muttered. Hades' gaze flashed.

"Their unique quirks are what most intrigues me. They're special." Chinchilla snorted, but had sense enough to try to mask it as a cough. "That will be all." Hades dismissed him cooly, not fooled. 

Chinchilla voiced his grumblings later in the canteen, loudly.

"The new commander doesn't know what he's doing. He won't last a week in post."

"Who would replace him?"

"Chinchilla, surely. It would have to be you." One of his cronies piped up for him. Chinchilla smiled smugly, not protesting against the idea.

                Chinchilla had the night shift. He patrolled the streets with his head held high and his chest puffed out. A deep growl rumbled behind him and Chinchilla spun around, his fist extended. He'd had one of the cyclopes upgrades and fire kindled from his prosthetic knuckles, ready to flare out in a long reaching flame thrower.

Cerberus prowled out from the shadows, saliva dripping from his powerful jaws – a thick globule extinguishing Chinchilla's fire. Hades was at his hound's side and stepped calmly between him and Chinchilla. Hades reached up and stroked one of Cerberus' colossal muzzles.

"Commander," Chinchilla saluted, lowering his attacking arm – sweat gleaming on his brow.

"Do you know what's vital for leadership, Chinchilla? Respect."

Chinchilla took a step back, daunted by Hades' tone. Hades had ruled sector VI through fear and – with his unchallenged authority- had been able to protect those that needed him. "You, soldier, don't respect me. You don't respect the children of Tartarus. But you will learn."

Chinchilla heard the soft beating of leathery wings before he was struck from behind and pinned to the ground by a harpy. The female cawed, the calling screech of a bird of prey, right beside his head. He writhed, trying to shove her off. Cold dollops of Cerberus' saliva ran down his neck.

"Comander! Commander!" Chinchilla shouted, thrashing wildly as the beasts played with him.

Hades watched, leaning languidly against the wall. No one else saw the potential of this place – they thought of walls and locks – and not that Tartarus was the size of a continent. There was a whole world in its belly. A new world capable of new rules. "I'm sorry! I won't say anything against you ever again. I swear!"

"Oh, the lesson doesn't end here," Hades laughed darkly. "I'm going to teach you to fear the shadows and.... its freaks."

*

              Hyperion was on the windowsill of his attic. He looked down at the plummeting drop, from up high the people below were like ants. He jumped, falling a few feet before grabbing onto the ledge of the wall's alcove. Catching and supporting his weight on one arm was wrenching at the socket but Hyperion didn't flinch. He was accustomed to worse pain. Heaving himself up, he made it safely onto the ledge.