Hello. Here's a little story that I thought was pretty interesting, please tell me if you think that I should continue.

Disclaimer: I am not Greek, so therefore, I don't own Greek Mythology

I was being dragged onto the stone table. I had no reason for being here. It wasn't my fault. I did nothing! It was the stupid contraptions fault. They told me it was safe. Then I was forced here and everyone thought I was an evil spirit straight from Tartartus.

I was now being held down hand and foot by many strong men with another holding a knife above my heart; I was about to be sacrificed. For the life of me-haha- I couldn't figure out why I disserved this.

I looked around and saw many people looking straight at me, the girl in tattered, almost gone, clothes, dirty hair, and being held down on a stone tablet.

There was one chance to get out of this and if had to be done NOW.

I kicked out my legs and got the man that was holding down my legs right in the stomach. He let go and doubled over. I kicked up one leg and knocked the knife out of the cloaked mans hand then swung myself off of the tablet, bringing the last man with me.

I did the only thing that crossed my mind when I was free,

I ran like hell.

I ran from the people,

From the temple

From being sacrificed

From my death

I thought that I was free.

Or so I thought.

By now I was a mile from the temple and in a cluster of trees. I leaned against one and heaved unlit my eyes blurred and my head was spinning. And I threw up.

I was basking against the light breeze of cool air that was wafting through the branches. I loosened my muscles and let down my guard for a split second. BAD mistake.

Suddenly I was being grabbed from behind and a fire the color of blood started in front of me and I was being pushed into it. There was screaming and wailing. There were whipping sounds and groaning. There was barking and the sound of a river and there was a sound that was like a drawbridge being let down.

I was thrown on the ground once I was out of the fire and I saw grayish brown dirt and pebbles. I looked up to see a stormish grey covering what could be a sky or a caverns roof. There were trees with no leaves, showing there branches that were nothing but withered fingers. There were a few people cloaked in darkness and almost translucent from what I could tell.

There, a few yards away, was a river that smelled of sulfur, and glowed a grayish blue. The actual color was a dull red and a few orbs that were black. On the river, there was a rickety boat, a gondola, with a cloaked man who's face looked pained and ancient.

I was quite literally thrown onto the boat and it started moving before I could even sit up.

I watched as every time the man pushed with his stick, we went three times the distance a normal push would make.

In moments I watched in black amazement as a stone fortress of a castle came into view, practically rearing up and snapping at anyone who dared to look at it. I watched as the drawbridge came down with a boom that carried with it a breeze that made my hair move as if in a hurricane.

I was unceremoniously thrown off the boat and shoved across the ruff, weathered wood of the bridge. One of my captors stepped in front of me and told me to wait.

As he left the hall, my mind was finally given the chance to process all that had happened in the last five minutes. I was being kidnapped. I will probably die and this time I see no escape. My mind was reeling at the prospect and I felt the overwhelming to throw up again. I had no idea who was in there, but I vowed that I would take it head on and with my chin up. I will look death in the eye, because when you are going to die, you have the choice of doing it kicking and screaming and crying all over yourself, or you can go out with your head held high and make your last few moments filled with confidence and pride.

He came back in and roughly grabbed my arms and forced me to walk toward a giant, black, intricately carver, ruby encrusted door. It looked as it were bleeding.

The doors opened and I was forced up to the steps in front of an empty throne of bones and onyx, before I was thrown prostrate on the ground. I looked up in time to see all the shadows in the room pull themselves from every corner and crawl to the throne. My eyes were powerless to watch as the shadows solidified into a man.

This man was a sight within himself. He wore black robes that covered a muscular body that reeked of power and strength. His hands were perched on the arms of his throne like spiders ready for pouncing. His hair was the darkest of blacks and was hanging in his eyes slightly. Hair that somewhat covered eyes that were more beautiful and frightening that I felt as if I didn't deserve to see anything this magnificent. A blue that was dark as a lagoon at midnight. His skin was white as the moon and covered a face that held a youthful appearance that held a maturity and knowing beyond what I thought possible.

The room was echoing the silence, making my ears ring and I was suffering from post traumatic whiplash at the appearance of this man.

He finally spoke, a rough voice that spoke with unquestioned authority,

"I am Hades, Lord of the Dead. I believe you know why you are here"

I blinked and, being me, said the most anticlimactic I could muster;

"I have no clue and am I dead?"

Thank you for reading this. If you could please leave reviews, any questions, concerns, advise, or praise is welcomed. Creative criticism is also welcomed.