This is a story I wrote for a competition at school ages ago. I thought it was good, my friends though it was good, but I didn't get a prize. I never got the hardcopy back though, so the judges can't have thought it was bad. Lacking inspiration and having too much homework, I have been forced to put 'Lies' on hold temporarily, but I will get round to writing the last chapter soon...ish. for the moment, read this, enjoy it (hopefully), and then review it. Wine Dark Sea.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything here, except for my nameless Trojan. But I'm not sure who does. Oh well.
The Journey of Death
This is massacre. They've been here almost ten years, but still their lust for Trojan blood has not yet died down. The plain of flat land outside our city is perpetually covered in blood. This is what I imagine Hades' kingdom to be like.
Almost every day, young men, including myself, come out to fight the Greeks under the command of Prince Hector. The fighting only stops when Phoebus Apollo's chariot plunges into the sea at the end of the day or when a short period of peace is proclaimed during which, both sides gather the bodies of the dead. Today is not one of those days. The Greeks charge towards us and once again, the fighting begins. We all fight bravely, but today I am seeing things that I haven't before. There is a soldier dressed all in black and a woman wearing armour. I am distracted for a second, but that second was too long. The next thing I know, there is searing pain in my face and I am falling, falling, falling...
When I next open my eyes it is dark. There are hundreds of bodies lying in the ground. I pull myself up, but I feel lighter than usual, almost like a shadow. I look at the floor around my feet and I see what looks like me! My face is covered in blood and the features are completely indistinguishable, but it is definitely my body. Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder. A young man, barely a boy, holding a staff in one hand and wearing winged sandals on his feet. Hermes, the immortal messenger, collecting the souls of the dead. He pushes me towards a group of other dead men and then guides all of us towards the foot of Mount Ida. The journey is not long, but there is an eerie silence in the group. When we reach the foot of the mountain there is a quiet rumbling. A hole opens in the ground and Hermes guides every soul into it. When I put one foot into the hole I am sucked straight in. It feels as though an invisible body is pulling me in. Even when I reach the bottom, it feels as if it is still pulling me. It takes me a while to realise where I am. I am standing on a bank of the river Styx in the kingdom of Hades and Persephone, the land of the dead.
For some reason I find myself looking up-river into the dark shadows of the underworld. The rest of the dead, both Greek and Trojan, are also gazing into the darkness. Suddenly, there is a shape moving out of the shadows. As it draws closer I can make out what looks like a man rowing a small boat. Without seeing him close up, I know who he is. Charon the boatman, coming to row the bodies of the dead across the river. The boat draws closer, and once it reaches the bank that we are all standing on, Charon moors it onto a small dock, which before now, I had not noticed. He looks at all of us and mutters angrily to himself. One by one, every soul climbs into the small boat. I am the last in. There is very little space, but somehow, it seems that the boat has expanded, so there is just enough room for everyone.
The journey is long and it becomes darker by the second. The only sound is that of Charon rowing the boat. As my eyes grow used to the dark, I can make out vague shapes. I can see trees, even though here seems to be the least likely place to find them, but these are the poplars of Persephone, Queen of the Underworld. I can make out one other shape, but what it is, I am uncertain. It is huge and blocks the entrance to the kingdom of Hades. Suddenly, it's eyes open, six eyes, each as red as fire. It lifts it's head, no, heads and bares six jaws of sharp, white teeth and growls. Then it sees Charon, closes it's mouths and moves away. Behind it there is a bright light and only then can I see what it is. Cerberus, the three-headed canine guardian of the Underworld. Charon continues rowing. Now I can see the ghosts of heroes long dead and of mortal men and women who led somewhat normal lives.
After a few minutes Charon stops rowing and moors the boat. We all get off and stand on the bank of the river. We have arrived in the kingdom of Hades and Zeus' daughter Persephone. Only the gods know what will happen now.