The list in the throne room was long and Persephone fought down a wave of impatience. She would need to check on Hades periodically to ensure he was dosed with appropriate elixir, but how could she do that if she was locked in this room all day? One of the Judges approached her with a frown on his ancient face and she could not be bothered to make the effort to figure out which one it was.
“Where is Hades?” he queried.
“The King wished me to continue greeting the souls today. He has other tasks to attend to. Do you take issue with his judgement?” The Judge opened his mouth and Persephone continued quietly, “Pray be seated. I have no wish to delay the proceedings with needless questions.” His ancient face took on a deep expression of disapproval and he turned on his heel making his way back to his compatriots, their incensed whispers reaching her ears but she simply did not care. She raised her voice, twisting the ring on her finger. “Bring in the children.”
The hours passed as she gently ushered the souls into their next life, taking the time to comfort those who needed comfort, to sort out the souls who needed special consideration -- but all the time in the back of her mind -- was Hades. Was he sleeping still, locked in the deep embrace of Hypnos’ willing arms? She will destroy you. But surely the poppies would offer him far better protection than being locked in Tartarus.
Part of her had known that if he had entered into that black Kingdom, he would never emerge again. She forced her mind away from her hopefully slumbering husband, seeing that they were halfway down the list and she prepared herself for the next wave of souls.
When she finally left the throne room, her head was pounding. She hurried through the palace and when she reached the doors to Hades’ room, she paused, her pulse racing as she saw the door was ajar. Had someone entered his room? Stepping closer slowly she heard the quiet voice of a woman and she rushed through the doors and then her heart truly stopped. Hades was alone in the room just where she had left him, but he was awake and staring down at his bed. He was scratching at his heart and his clothing was torn, his hair in wild disarray. Deep bloody gashes were clawed over his chest as if he was slowly trying to reach inside his body to rip out his heart and he stood unnaturally still. Movement drew her eye and she realized that she was wrong, he was not alone in this room. There were shadows moving in his bed, writhing in the sheets and she heard a deep groan of pleasure, realizing with a gasp what those shadows were doing. The door closed behind her and the lock clicked loudly in the quiet. Her husband was watching a shadowed couple having sex on his bed, her husband that she had tricked. Her husband who had warned her of his impending madness -- and she was locked in a room with him.
He looked over at her finally and his eyes glowed in the darkness. This was not her husband she thought as she stared at his red gleaming eyes. There was no trace of recognition in his eyes and she felt a tremble travel through her. She did not know this God.
“How easily the lamb walks into the wolf’s den,” he whispered, finally, his voice vibrating with anger. She turned to grasp the handle to the door, but he lifted a hand and pulled her body across the room towards him. She let out a frantic cry, grasping desperately for the door but the force was too strong and she stumbled towards him. He grasped her painfully and pushed her down into a chair. He stared down at her and then bent to rub his hands through her hair, pulling the strands tightly against her scalp. His breathing was heavy against her face, “Oh, I know you. My little beguiler, my wife ‘in name only’.” His fingers pressed against her jaw.
“You are hurting me!” she cried.
“We would not want that, now would we?” He reached down to his chest and rubbed the blood against her lips and she shuddered as it smeared across her face. “I would not want you to have to bleed, like how you bled when your lover fucked you. When he took what belonged to me.”
“Stop! Stop it!” she said, rage rising in her own mind. She tasted the metallic taste of his blood and she tried to grasp his hand but he grabbed her wrists tightly and she felt the press of his fingertips against her bones. “How did you…”
“How did I what? Wake up?” His laugh was low and deep. “Hypnos says hello. He woke me after I nearly strangled the life out of him.” He pressed his face closer to hers. “You should have made the draught stronger if you wished to lock away a King.”
“Hades,” she said softly, “let me get Charon, maybe he can help us.”
The look he gave her was so filled with scorn it made her gasp. “You think to imprison me. You think I would let you ever have such power over me again. You had one chance and you failed. And when I awoke I could see so much clearer. I can see you so much better now wife.”
She could hear the sounds of the entwined shadows breathing heavily, the sounds of their bodies joining as the larger shadow thrust over and over, and her face burned as the woman let out a deep moan of ecstasy. She pushed against him, trying to avert her gaze from the bed but he shoved her back down, grasping her head between his hands.
“You are such a coward,” he hissed at her. “You are as afraid to look at sex as you are to have it.” He turned her head forcing her to stare at the bed. Her eyes widened as she saw the long dark hair of the woman spread against the pillow and recognized the strong profile of the man. It was an apparition of them! Hades sneered in her ear, “Visions of what might have been. I told you, time is broken here. Does it make you sick to think in another life you fucked me?”
“I do not want to watch!” she cried. “This is disgusting!”
“I disgust you,” he spat at her.
“I did not say that, I said--,” but he had moved away from her, watching intently as the shadowed Persephone mounted her husband.
She closed her eyes, ashamed and aroused at the sight of her fictional being pleasuring Hades. The scent of the poppies made the air heavy and she felt her eyes drift. She had to get out of this room, for her sake and for his. He was enraged by her, consumed by her and it was unsafe for them both.
Hades had warned her, but she had ignored him and now his worst fear had come to pass. There was no trace of her husband in this man’s eyes, only madness lurked in their depths. Her eyes had closed again and this time when they opened she saw Hades lean body standing before her, his heavy erection evident beneath his robes. He pulled her up, pressing her tightly against him.
“Do you know what I want to do to you - to my ‘wife in name only’? I want to water you with my mouth, plant my seed in your garden and watch it grow. I want to fuck you so hard this curse pours out of me and into you. Until you are the one begging for me on your knees like a pathetic bitch.”
“Stop it!” she cried, standing unsteadily from the chair. “Do not speak to me like that. This is not you, Hades. Do not do this.” Her voice was slurred and she tried to move away from him but her limbs were heavy as she fell against him and his fingers dug into her flesh.
He laughed into her ear. “Or what, you will drug me?” He bent low jeering in her face. “You have drugged me with flowers, and you have drugged me with love. What will happen when you fall asleep my enticing wife?” He forced her face up and pressed his lips against hers, kissing her roughly and she made a sound of pain against his mouth and she felt him swallow it greedily. It was too familiar, this forceful embrace, and she kicked at him but it only incensed him more. She heard her clothes rip as his hands began to tear at her and he gave a punishing bite against her lower lip, pulling so hard she feared it may burst between his teeth. Then he threw her down onto the bed as she tried to cover her exposed breasts.
“You still try to hide yourself from me. I am very sick of your maidenly modesty.” He began to unfasten his toga. “I do not need to watch a vision when I can have you here and now. Spread your legs like you did for your lover and let us continue where we left off.”
She sprung up from the bed and slapped him hard across the face, drawing blood from his lip but he did not even pause. As he came nearer to her she drew back her fist and punche
d him as hard as she could while delivering a swift kick to his groin. He fell to his knees and she hoped he would stay there.
“Hades, stop,” she said again. “Stop this, this is not you!”
He stood up from the floor and slowly put a hand to his face, blood dripping from his nose. He looked down at his fingers then drew them into his mouth, his tongue licking the blood from his skin, smiling at her. Wind whipped through the room and his eyes glowed red as the symbol of Pluto appeared on his forehead, glowing white against his pale skin.“If a lamb strikes a wolf she better kill him.” His voice was low and demonic, echoing against the walls as he stepped closer and closer to her. “You and I have crossed the threshold. You make me weak and I detest weakness. I detest you. I cannot have something around that makes me so... infirm. You are the source of all my suffering and if I do not destroy you, you will certainly destroy me.”
The Fates’ voices echoed in her mind as he wrapped his fingers around her neck and they tightened briefly, her breath catching before he lifted his hand. She was slammed onto the bed and she gave a helpless cry as she was unable to shift against an invisible, immovable force. He stood over her, menacing and evil and so much like the figure from her nightmares. She felt herself spiraling, dreams converging with reality until she wanted to scream out in anguish. But the nightmare from her dreams was not him, just as this man who stood over her was not her husband. The wind rippled through her hair and clothes and she saw the fire flare in his eyes and it seemed to crackle in the air. Flames began spreading up the curtains of the canopy and the heat was painfully close to her flesh. Tears filled her eyes as the fear and anger slipped away and she saw the fire reflected in the darkness of his eyes. She had brought this powerful God to his knees, this good man who loved children, who mourned his mother and was gentle with animals. What had he become because of her? She pulled wildly at the invisible chains restricting her, and he watched out of hooded eyes. She gave up with a vicious curse, the chains immovable against her, and she looked into the mad King’s eyes.
“Hades, do not make me hate you.”
He climbed onto the bed towering over her and grasped her legs in his hands spreading them apart, “You have always hated me. Now I will make you love me.”
She moved her fingers and reached into the belt of her dress, feeling the cool handle of the blade he had given her last night. Opening her palm, a small plant grew from the center, black berries hanging from the green leaves, the belladonna concealing the Acheron dagger that she clasped tightly in her hand. She saw his eyes flash to the plant and she knew that he had seen the dagger hidden inside the delicate leaves.
“You fucking bitch,” he growled. He made to reach for the dagger when she shot vine after vine from her fingertips, the strongest, thickest vines she could grow. He tore one branch off and another took its place, then another as if it were the Hydra, and she felt his hold on her loosen. She sat up from the bed and hurled her body towards him and together they toppled on the bed as he struggled to remove the dagger from her hand. Suddenly he gasped and grabbed his side, looking down to see a twisting vine pushing the dagger through his flesh, breaking the skin. He looked at her hand and saw that it now held only the plant, the blade missing from beneath its leaves.
He laughed. “Clever girl. I will make a queen of you yet.” She stared at him, horrified at the smile on his face, aghast at the blade that was held against his pale skin by thickened green vines. Suddenly a strong voice invaded her mind. “You don’t have the courage wife.”
“Forgive me, Hades,” she whispered, and she twisted her hand and the vine pushed the dagger deep inside him -- up to the hilt. His back arched and twisted as he let out a scream.
His eyes opened suddenly, pain and panic glazing his vision, and in his black gaze she saw her husband staring back at her. He was fighting against the demon inside of him, struggling to rise to the surface, but the red was already reclaiming his eyes.
“Persephone…run.” He raised his hands and blasted the doors open, and she hesitated, but his eyes were already fully red and she jumped from the bed, running away from him. Do not look back. She heard his voice in her mind and she did not know if it was real or just another memory, echoes of dreams that would always haunt her. She swept past her room and did not stop running, out, out, out of the gates of Hell.
She rushed from the castle and shook her head, clearing the tears from her eyes as she paused before the gates of the Underworld. They were inexplicably open. Every step she took from him was a painful pull against her heart and her stubborn feet paused before the threshold. Persephone. She shivered at the longing of the whisper in the wind. Gold glittered in the breeze and she remembered the stream of gold she had watched from her window at her mother’s temple. If she left him would he die?
“Hades,” she whispered, closing her eyes, the wind pulling at her hair, pulling her back towards him. Low dark laughter bellowed behind, cursing her name as she forced herself past the gates. She reached the cliff that Orephus had climbed and began to make her way to the top. Up the rugged rocks she sped, as fast as she could and she could hear movement behind but she dared not look back. “Do not look back.” Orpheus had not heeded his warning -- but she would! The sky grew closer and closer as she climbed up the treacherous mountain towards the light. She reached the very precipice and then froze.The landscape was blanketed in thick snow, the trees barren and the flowers dead beneath the heavy white blanket. She took a step out of the cavernous darkness towards her freedom in the sun. A hand reached out and grabbed her pulling her back into darkness.
Hades pulled her tightly to his chest, cradling her in his arms as blood seeped into her gown. “Forgive me!” he cried.
She jerked away from his grip, fear and shock making her step back from him. “Let go of me!” She stumbled away from him and her arm was flung out of the cave, the signet ring on her finger glaring brilliantly in the rays of sunlight.
He grasped her arm quickly and pulled her back into the shadows and she looked up at him with wide, horrified eyes. “I am sorry, I forgot that I was still wearing your ring!” she gasped in fear. He looked down at her and she saw the love reflected in his gaze.
He grabbed her hand, gently pulling the ring off her finger, placing it back onto his own. “Say nothing, Persephone. They are coming.” She mouthed no, trying to grasp the ring from him but he kept his hands in hers as a painful sound filled the air and the sky turned an eerie shade of green and gold. Persephone pressed her body against Hades as shivers began to wrack her. His hands ran through her hair and she felt his fingers trace the bruises on her lips. “Forgive me,” he whispered again.
Their bodies were separated as six armed guards thudded down from the skies and Persephone fell to the ground as Hades was shoved against the wall. She looked around and she closed her eyes tightly. They were Ares’ soldiers. The Earth shuddered again and one last figure flew down from the sky and thudded to the ground. She knew who would stand before her and when she opened her eyes she saw he was there. Ares had found them.
His blond hair escaped his metal helmet and his blue eyes were gleeful in his beautiful face. He circled Persephone on the ground and then turned to Hades; his face twisted as he looked at the God of Death.
“What do we have here? A lover’s tiff? My father explained the rules to you, Hades. Your seal is never permitted above ground. Take him!”
The guards grabbed Hades’ hands, pinning them behind his back and Ares wrapped his fingers tightly around Persephone’s arm. She pushed against him but he slapped her so hard that her head hit the wall and her vision blurred. She heard Hades snarl but then Ares pulled her roughly to her feet.
“I could take you to Mount Olympus,” he said with a smile, “and deal your judgement there. But I think it fitting to return the little couple to their land of bliss, so I can rip the flesh from your bones in your own Kingdom.” He approached Hades and kicked him with the sharp edge of his boot. “Get up, King,” he snee
red. “Your subjects await.”
The guards hauled Hades to his feet and Ares kept his hand painfully tight around Persephone as they descended down the steep cliff she had just climbed. She prayed that the gates would be closed but they remained opened and they entered the Underworld as easily as she had left it. She glanced quickly at Hades but his head was bowed, his dark hair obscuring his face. Why had he not closed the gates? She bit back a frustrated fearful cry as they entered the palace, wanting to shout a warning to any of the subjects who remained in the castle. The guards footsteps echoed loudly in the hall, which was mercifully empty. No sign of any life was present in the darkened palace. When they burst into the throne room, the guards threw Hades roughly to the ground and he lay on his side, his face pale as he looked up at Ares. The effects of the drugs, the curse and the transit had weakened him and Persephone cursed herself. Ares pushed her to the ground, dismissing her as inconsequential and then he slowly approached Hades. Taking his sword he cut the back of Hades’ toga, ripping it from his body. He walked around Hades sizing him up, his eyes gleaming as he noticed the arrow wound and claw marks. Blood dripped down Hades’ arm and the black veins now ran completely up his neck spreading to his lower face.
Hades And Persephone: Curse Of The Golden Arrow Page 24
