One Step Closer—Prologue
Rain drizzled down on the lone man walking the street. Humidity clogged the early spring air. The man ignored the flowers that were blooming and practically glared at a garden of vegetables in one of the quaint houses' yards. The fragrant and thriving blossoms were a telltale sign of his loneliness. He soon grew tired of the damp, but he had no intention of returning to his home. He was contemplating on simply going somewhere less rainy when a sign caught his attention.
The Black Bird Inn.
The name was scrolled across a large sign made of faded wood. An old building sat behind it. Something drew him to the building, which instantly made him cautious, but he entered anyways. A bell dinged above him when he opened the door. He glanced around the room. There was a desk in front of him, a staircase to his left, and a sitting area to his right. He drifted over to the sitting area's bookcase. The shelves were adorned with books on various subjects, but most seemed to either be about Greek Mythology or in Italian.
"Hello," came a woman's voice from behind him. "May I help you?"
He turned to her in a fluid motion. She was timid looking and tan in comparison to her vivid red hair and shimmering dark eyes.
"Sir?" she asked when he didn't respond. "Would you like a room or are you hiding from the rain?"
He thought for a moment about his answer. He should leave. "I'd like a room, please."
She smiled brightly, "Then let me check you in." She sat down behind the desk and pulled out a large, leather-bound book. She opened it to a page half-covered with names and room numbers. The man gave the book a questioning look. "I know many have moved on to computers and other fancy electronics," the woman replied, "but I prefer the old-fashioned way of doing things." She reached for a pen out of a drawer. "Okay, your name sir?"
He hesitated, but answered, "Hades."
The woman sighed, sat back in her chair and stared at him as if he'd grown a snide second head. "Hades? Like the Greek God of the Underworld?"
"Yes. And I'm not lying."
"Fine. Do you have a last name? Or should I just call you Mr. Hades?"
He smirked, "That works."
She stifled a laugh, "Well then, Mr. Hades. My name is Cassandra Merlo. Welcome to the Black Bird. One night's stay is seventy-five dollars, you pay at check out. This is your room key."
He took the large, ancient-looking key from her. "Thank you, Ms. Merlo."
"Just Cassandra, please."
"Then I'm just Hades."
Cassandra stood from her chair and came around the desk. "So, what did you do to your parents to make them name you Hades?"
"I'm really not sure. Perhaps they liked Greek Mythology," he smiled to himself and suppressed a laugh.
"It is a fascinating subject," she agreed.
"What about you? Your name is Greek right? With an interesting meaning?" He wasn't sure why it was so easy to talk to this mortal, but she made him feel relaxed.
"Yes it is and does," she replied, looking up at him. "She who entangles men." She stared into his eyes for a few moments and then looked away quickly with blush covering her face. "But that's not me at all." She hurried away through an archway in the sitting area that led to a dining.
Hades looked down at his room key and smiled. Room number thirteen. Of course.
He spent the afternoon in his room, still wondering what he was doing there. He was getting ready to leave when the tempting smell of food wafted into his room. He sighed and ventured down the stairs. Other guests were now milling about. He continued into the dining room where some people had already sat down at the tables. He sat down at a table away from the other patrons and stared out a nearby window.
His attention was diverted from staring by a loud shout and then muttering in Italian that came from behind the door that led to the kitchen. Hades stared at it in confusion. No one else seemed to be worried though.
"Oh, don't mind Cassie," an old man a few tables away said to him. "She's a great cook, but burns herself every time she gets near a stove." He laughed, "I say the fire's just attracted to that hair of hers."
Cassandra came out of the kitchen at that time with a tray full of plates. She placed a plate full of pasta in front of anyone sitting at a table. She smiled at Hades as she set a plate down in front of him. "I hope you like hearty Italian cooking."
"It's actually a favorite of mine," he responded.
She smiled again and went over to the old man. "Cassie, I don't know what I'd do if it weren't for you cooking my meals," he said.
"You know it's my pleasure, Uncle Walter," she replied humbly. The old man whispered something to her with a look over at Hades that caused her to blush. "Oh, shush, you," she responded and hurried off to another table. Walter laughed as she left.
As Hades watched the woman interact with her other customers, he decided that staying at the Black Bird for a few nights wouldn't be a bad idea.
Hades spent the rest of the evening flipping through the many books on the bookcase. The other guests had long gone to bed. Cassandra was sitting at her desk filing some paperwork. She looked over at the man who sat silently in a chair with a book. He was odd to her, or at least different. Many of her other guests were boisterous or only came and went during their stay there, but he had stayed in his room all day and now was simply reading. She glanced at the clock sitting on her desk and sighed. It was well past midnight.
She stood and headed for the door leading toward her room. Before she opened the door, she turned back to Hades. "Nocturnal?"
Her question surprised him, but he didn't show it. He looked up from his book, "I wouldn't go as far as saying that." Cassandra watched as he closed the book and returned it to the shelf. "I was just heading to my room."
The redhead barely heard him; she was staring at the book he had just returned. "That was my Greek Mythology book, I mean, the one in Greek."
"Yes, I can read Greek."
She stared at him. There was something about him that told her that he was no ordinary man. "So, Hades can read Greek?"
"Of course," he replied nonchalantly and headed for the stairs. "Good night, Cassandra."
"Good night, Mr. Hades."
The next day, Hades came down the stairs to an empty building. Empty except for Cassandra. She was simply sitting at her desk reading. He stood beside the desk. "Where is every one?"
She looked up at him, "It's the town's Spring Festival. That's why so many people are staying here this week. I figured that's why you were here too."
"No, I'm not much of a fan of spring. What about you?"
She swore that his eyes darkened at the mention of spring. "I have to manage the Black Bird and I don't see why spring should be celebrated over any other season. I'm pro equal season appreciation."
He smiled, "I don't know, I seem to like fall better myself."
"Fall? I guess. Fall and winter do have lots of holidays that bring in customers."
"Well, as long as you're making money then all is good, correct?"
"Correct. So, what are you planning on doing today, Mr. Hades?" Cassandra asked as she pushed her book into one of the desk's numerous drawers.
"I was planning on reading some more. Your collection has some interesting books. But I must ask, why all the mythology books?"
"My mother was half Greek. She used to read me some of the stories when I was little, said it was part of our heritage. I still have the book she used to read to me actually." Cassandra quickly stood and walked over to the bookcase. She bent down and grabbed a large book from the shelf, "This one." She straightened herself, unaware of how close Hades was standing next to her. She looked up into his face with blush slowly creeping up her cheeks.
Hades held out his hand for the book and Cassandra gave it to him. He stepped away from her and flipped through the pages quickly. "These are children's versions of the stories. I'm not even sure how that's possible."
"Well, they're just dumbed down a little, and shortened, and, well, worded a little differently."
He turned his attention to the redhead, "And what do you mean by that?"
She looked away, "Well, some things in Greek Mythology just aren't exactly child friendly."
"Like what?"
She crossed her arms, "Oh, you know… kidnapping, adultery…Change of subject, please."
Hades laughed at the face she was making. He… laughed? He found himself stunned at how this woman made him act. She too, in that moment, felt how strange it was. His laugh sounded like a spasm of his voice box, like it had never been used. Yet, for some reason, she liked it.
They spent the day talking, until the rest of the guests returned after the festival. That week they spent every day together simply talking. It was easy, and they both feared and cherished the time. It was exactly why Hades knew he had to finally check out of the Black Bird.
Cassandra smiled at him as soon as he came down the stairs. He unknowingly, smiled back. He walked up to the desk and Cassandra looked up at him. "So, are we staying another night, Mr. Hades?"
"Unfortunately not, Cassandra. Today I must check out," he replied as he pulled out his wallet.
The redhead sat up straight, "Oh, okay then. Well, you stayed a total of seven nights, which is-"
"Here," he handed her a handful of fifties. "Keep the change."
She counted the money and locked it away in her money drawer. When she looked up, his room key was lying on the desk and the door was closing behind him. She stared at the door, bewildered at his sudden departure.
"What are you doing?" Walter, who had been sitting in one of the chairs, asked her. "Stop staring and get going, Cassie."
She looked at him with a stunned expression, but then jumped up from her chair and raced out the door. She could still see him down the road and ran up behind him. "Wait," she huffed.
He turned around, "Cassandra?"
"I didn't," she fought to catch her breath, "I didn't get to say goodbye."
He stared at her. "Goodbye?"
"Yes, when friends leave you're supposed to tell them goodbye."
"We're friends?"
Cassandra looked him in the eyes, "Well, I hope we are."
He met her gaze, "So do I."
She smiled, "Well, now that that's settled…" She trailed off as she lost her train of thought in his eyes. They were dark, seemingly lifeless, but she could she a glimmer of light.
He stared back, bewildered by whatever was going on, but he decided to forget to think and let whatever was happening to continue. He then heard himself say, "Perhaps I could stay one more night."