Chapter Two: The Oman
Caina, Bottom Level of the Underworld- 1970
Mark landed with a teeth rattling thud on the ground outside a set of wrought iron gates. He groaned as he rolled over, coughing up a smallish cloud of red dust. Once it had settled, he sat up and rubbed his forehead; a thin trail of blood coiled down his skin, pooling in the corner of his eye then continued down his cheek. It seemed to stop as it reached his chin. This puzzled him; the wound on his head was completely new, why was the blood dry?
Running a hand through his bronze hair, he looked around. The ground was dirt, the rustic kind of dirt found in the desert, and the walls were made of limestone and granite. Wait… Mark did a double-take; Limestone wasn't naturally found in the desert… where the hell was he?
A loud cracking sound echoed around the cavern he was sitting in. Mark's head jerked up; one of the stalactites on the ceiling had cracked from its place and was about to fall. The boy jumped to the side and looked over as the rock crumbled against the ground into small rock shards, right where he'd been sitting. Mark blinked; what in the hell was going on?
"See!"
Mark's head jerked in the direction of the voice, spying a man- at least he thought it was a man- with snow white hair and deep, charcoal-black skin and a woman with chestnut tresses that flowed down her shoulders, her fair skin dotted with freckles.
The woman smiled at the dark skinned-man. "I'm sure it was nothing."
The man scowled at her and, completely ignoring the confused Mark who sat a few feet away, strode over to the rock that had cracked. He examined it for a second then turned back to the woman.
"These things don't just fall on their own, Persephone," he growled at her. She giggled, a sound that made her look very out of place in… wherever they were.
"It doesn't mean the Apocalypse has started, Hades." Her eyes traveled to Mark and she smiled warmly at him. "What is your name, child?"
Mark was lost for words for a moment. Compared to the paranoid brashness of Hades, Persephone was pretty nice, a breath of fresh air. Her smile was completely genuine and the air around her seemed pleasant.
"M-m-m-m Mark C-c Calaway," he stuttered, not out of fear, but out of coldness. He was freezing, even if fountains of fire had been exploding from the crevices and the canyon below. Mark was definitely brave.
Hades' eyes narrowed as Persephone toyed with her braid like a naïve child, watching the boy closely.
"Could you follow us please, Mark?" She said sweetly.
Mark stared at her for a minute before opening his mouth to speak.
"Where am I?"
It was silent, apart from the screams echoing around the cavern and the explosions from the pit below, before he got a reply. A shadow had appeared behind Persephone and it was the one to speak.
"In the Underworld."