The air was blistering and heavy. Burning torches scattered across the hallway provided just enough of light. The never ending walls were colored crimson, almost as if the blood of the tormented was used to paint them. He continued to walk down this path, head held high. He passed by several different chambers, screams and pleads for mercy rang in his ears. The raven haired man smiled to himself. The shrieks of agony brought joy to him, yet it was not enough.

Over the past months, the king of Hell had started to become somewhat lonely. He had been ridiculed by his fellow Olympians, belittled and disgraced. Pluto fled to his underground kingdom in search of refuge from his so called family. Living in solitude for hundreds of years, however, did not help fill the void he felt inside. As he continued his way down the corridor, an eidolon began to manifest in front of him.

"Speak." The king spoke, irritation through his tone.

"Master," the servant bowed shaking slightly in fear of being chastised, "someone is walking over your domain."

Pluto's eyes hardened. Who would dare walk onto his territory unannounced?

"Who is it?" he gritted through his teeth.

"It is Proserpina, daughter of Ceres." The ghost responded keeping his gaze low.

The god's eyes widened, his breath hitched faintly. Proserpina was a beautiful, young goddess. She was kind. She was tender. She was meek. Her smile could light up the darkest rooms in Tartarus. She would make a perfect wife. It was almost as if the Fates themselves had orchestrated this moment for him.

With a snap of his fingers, a sterling silver chariot appeared. Sleek, midnight stallions kicked at the air and yelled at the stalactites that hung from the ceiling. He stepped onto the carrier, dismissing the spirit with a wave of his hand. The dark haired man snapped at the reins and up they went. A hole opened up right before they would have smashed into spike. The tunnel was relatively small, making the king feel somewhat claustrophobic. Suddenly, he noticed a faint light at the end of the passage.

All at once, a burst of sunlight blinded him and he pulled back on the reins of his stallions. The horses whined in protest, but they followed the master's instruction and came to an abrupt stop. It took a few moments for Pluto's eyes to adjust to the brightness of the sun, it had been at least a century or two since he had last seen it. Once his pupils had calmed down he looked to his right and smiled.

There next to him stood the beauty that was Proserpina. Her honey suckle hair shifted slightly in the wind, her olive eyes were wide in shock. Though she tried to keep a calm composure, her body language betrayed her as she backed away in fear. He gave her a small smile, trying to reassure her that he would cause her no harm.

"Hello." He spoke as softly as he could, but his voice was still somewhat horse.

"Hello." She responded eyed him up and down.

"Do not be alarmed." He said as merrily as he knew how, but she made no move to approach him.

"I won't do you any harm. Would you like to take a ride with me?" His face ached from smiling for so long.

Pluto extended his hand towards her, his pale fingers almost seemed translucent under the sunlight. Proserpina took another step back. He noticed the uneasiness in her eyes. He knew she was going to yell for her mother. He had to move quickly.

He leapt off the carrier, stepping towards the young goddess. The grass beneath him withered, his very presence radiated death. With a swift motion, the king of Hell took the daughter of Ceres into his arms and strode into his carrier. He then snapped the reins and the onyx horses descended back into the hole. The goddess struggled in his grasp. She tried to break free. Yet all of her resistance was futile. The god did his best to console her.

"Do not fret my Proserpina. Do you like flowers, gardens?" he asked gently

She made no answer.

"Well, there are gardens back home as well with flowers to rival any on the surface. There are roses made of rubies, snowdrops made or pearls, anything you wish for can be found." He said with hope in his voice.

She turned her face away from him. Pluto ran his calloused fingers through his raven hair. This is was not going to be as easy as he thought. Suddenly, they were no longer in the dark tunnel. The chariot soared towards the Underworld.

"We are almost home now. And here's my faithful Cerberus! He guards the gates day and night." The king explained as they approached what seemed to be a three headed Rottweiler three times the size of a mammoth.

"Will he bite me?" the young goddess' voice was barely above a whisper.

Pluto's mouth fell open slightly. Those were the first words that she had spoken to him since he stole her away.

"No, no he never hurts anyone that I do not wish to hurt." He answered, relief seeping through his tone.

"Now come Proserpina," he continued, "Our kingdom awaits us."

They flew over the River Lethe, its water could make you forget any care and any sorrow in your heart and mind. When they reached his throne room, the king of Hell took a chalice and filled it to the brim with the river's water. He offered her the drink so that she would not be burned with thoughts of her mother. The daughter of Ceres all but slapped the cup out of his hand.

"I'd rather die from the depression of missing my mother then live without ever remembering her love!" The young goddess yelled standing at her full height. "I shall never drink nor eat anything again until I can gaze upon my mother's face again!"

With that, Proserpina ran off in a random direction. Pluto sighed in disappointment. He sat down on his throne rubbing his temples. The god called for his chef so that he could prepare a banquet. If he could convince the young goddess to taste just a morsel of the Underworld's food, then she would be bound to stay with him forever.

Pluto inhaled deeply before letting out the breath. He did not want to resort to this tactic, he truly did not. However, desperate times call for desperate measures. This was the first time he has had hope for happiness in over three centuries. There was no way he was letting her go.