Every Dog Has His Day… Right?
The bestial Cerberus stalked his domain of rotting refuse and choked on the horrid scent filling his triple set of nostrils.
He shook his three-some heads in frustration. Snapping at the moaning souls under foot irritably; oh, how he long for freedom of this horrid place. His massive size and his monstrous three heads; no such master could love these though they longed to be done to please end in pain oh how his raw neck smarts.
Trespassers come and say such cruel things that the hound of Hell strikes out in sad anger only to be beaten back as the wounded dog. Hercules, the god of the humans, and the two new comers; all, Cerberus had snarled at as was the command of his master.
The wraith and the man who smelled sweetly of the living flesh, that cruel man of the dead who had scoped up the horrid slush that festered on the ground. He had thrown it down the gullets of Cerberus and made him choke. Such cruel things he had said. As if he had kicked this poor mangy hound.
Cerberus cringed.
No such job this guard dog could be assigned that pleased all who comes across him. After those trespassers had left, oh how Cerberus had been saddened. He took his frustrations renewed to the moaning gluttonous souls and tore as them as he ripped the ground. In his rage a new presence appeared. Cerberus coward at the sight of it; he whined and back away tail between his legs triple sets of ears drooped as the Messenger of Heaven swept by. The dog of Hell curled up on the ground lying in the soiled slush. He whimpers chins in the muck.
Every dog longs for love…
Why should this one be any different?