Hades and Persephone

Chapter 1

Hades

I was about one drink and another poor comment away from turning over a table. If I've gone to a worse party in the last century, I don't remember it.

Not that I was expecting things to go well. Parties in general are not something I enjoy indulging in, nor did I think a party full of dead souls and dark gods would be an exhilarating way to end my weekend. But, as Lord of the Dead, Ruler of the Underworld, Torturer of Souls, this sort of debauchery was in the job description.

It was Thanatos's birthday, I don't know why he bothers celebrating since he's immortal, but he demanded a celebration for his big 2,000. Seeing as he is God of the Dead, ensuring the souls stay in the Underworld, I figured keeping him in my good graces would outweigh the trouble of a birthday bash.

What I did not expect was for him to invite a thousand of his closest personal friends. After my initial toast to the birthday boy, I drifted in and out of the shadows, meandering through the crowds of laughing ghouls and dancing spirits. Thanatos himself was dancing with a particularly pretty harpy in a skimpy red dress, her black, feathered wings flaring as he spun her. I talked with the guests, some of whom I knew from previous events, but each person found a different friend that they just had to see.

After a while, I got the hint and told my second in command, Charon, that I was leaving and snuck off to the private garden. Secluded in the eastern corner of the palace, the garden was one of the few peaceful places in my home. With wandering, stone paths weaving between swaying willows and elegant marble statues, the garden had a certain stillness that always calmed my soul.

Sitting on a small bench with my ankles crossed before me, I found my thoughts drifting to the other realms. The sea, the sky, even the mortal lands were better than my own dark kingdom. Here, demons and beasts roamed, and the dead cast the fields in shadow, and everything smelled faintly of moth balls. Maybe I should invest in some over-sized chandeliers and give the place a spruce-up.

So lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice the shadow creeping behind me till the monster was behind me. Hot, humid breath hit my neck and I whirled, facing the beast before me. Towering at a solid eight feet was a three headed rottweiler.

"How are you doing, Cerberus." I patted his flank and he promptly fell onto his back with a ground-shaking thump, exposing his stomach. I indulged him, giving him a few belly-rubs before producing a bone from thin air. Cerberus immediately jumped up, his tail thumping the ground, sending patches of grass flying. His three heads all cocked to the side, tongues flinging monster drool everywhere. I threw the bone as far into the gloom as possible, and he ran after it.

Here I was, hiding from my own party, playing fetch with my guard dog. Utterly pathetic for a god, but I couldn't force myself to go back to that stupid party. Cerberus came running back, his footsteps shaking the ground, occasionally trampling an indignant spirit or two. He had the massive femur bone in his left mouth, his middle head trying to snatch it away and his right head whining pitifully. He dropped the bone at my feat, which was covered in an impressive amount of spit. I snapped and the bone went flying into the Fields of Asphodel. Cerberus bounded after it again, tearing up the already decaying grass.

With a sigh, I rose to my feet, fully prepared to change out this suit for a Snuggie and binge some Hephaestus-TV, when Charon came running towards me, his yellowed bones clacking with each step. As my ferry man, Charon's main job was to take souls across the River Styx from the land of the living to the dead. In recent centuries, he gained a promotion, now overseeing one quadrant of the Fields of Punishment. I don't know what Charon used to look like, it seemed rude to ask, but he appeared now as an aged skeleton in a black satin Italian suit.

"We have an escapee, M'Lord-Sir," he addressed, sounding winded. I took a moment to ponder how he could be winded if he had no lungs when his words sunk in.

"Who is it this time?" I sighed, preparing for a long night.

"Ixion. Looks like his burnin' wheel rolled away."

"Get my chariot. I knew I shouldn't have let Thanatos get into the wine." Charon gave me a grin, which looked extremely odd without a face, and sprinted off.

A reverberating bark from behind alerted me of Cerberus's presence. This time, the bone was in his right mouth, which had its chin up triumphantly.

"Sorry, boy," I told him, taking the slobbery bone from his mouth. I let it drop to the grass where it wilted into ashes. "I've got some hunting to do." Snapping my fingers, my dress clothes shifted into a set of black iron armor. I stormed off, readying to take back the dead from the land of the living.