Hades slipped into bed, trying to clear his mind. It definitely wasn't how he imagined most people spent Christmas Eve. They spent it with friends and family, instead of arguing with their family. It was ironic, really. Christmas was a time for family, and Hades had spent it arguing with his instead. Then again, that was nothing new. His family had always shunned him.
He lay there for a while, his eyes open. The palace was so quiet. Well, it always was at night, but now that everyone was gone, it seemed even more so. He longed for Persephone to be lying next to him. He always did when it was spring and summer, but knowing she had left willingly was more painful for him.
It was then that he heard the first sound. It was a clanking sound, like metal against metal. It was coming from just outside his door. He immediately stood up, alert. Who was there at that hour?
Before he could do anything, the door broke open, sending a gust of cold air inside. Standing there was, no doubt, a ghost. A silvery sheen covered him and he was floating in the air. But that wasn't the strange part. The strange part was that he was wearing chains and shackles on his wrists, like a criminal.
But even that wasn't the strangest part. The strangest part was his appearance. He was very familiar to Hades. The cold, dark eyes, the dark hair, and especially the mustache...
No, it couldn't be...
"Hello, Father." The ghost smiled. "Did you miss me?"
"You!" Hades gasped. "How did you get here?"
"Is that any way to greet your son?" the figure asked mockingly.
"You're no son of mine," Hades spat.
"Ouch. You truly wound me, Father." The metal chains clacked as he placed a hand over his chest.
"What are you doing here?" Hades demanded. "And where did you get those chains?"
"They're punishment for my crimes in life," he explained. "I have to carry them as a reminder."
"That's not true," Hades insisted. "No person sent to the fields of punishment wears chains."
"Well, I am worse than the others," he said. "Far, far worse." He waved his arms around, causing more clanking sounds.
"Indeed you are, Adolf," Hades agreed. "But, still..."
Hitler floated around. "You see, Father. I deserve these chains. I have no doubt about that."
"I agree," Hades said. "You deserve the worst punishments imaginable. And since you seem to agree, would you please get back to the fields of punishment?"
"I am merely here to warn you of your own fate, Father," Hitler explained. "You could easily turn out like me if you're not careful."
Hades gave a hollow laugh. "When I've attempted genocide, maybe."
"Like your actions are any better," his son accused. "There's a reason your family shuns you. How's my half brother doing, by the way? The one who helped defeat Grandfather?"
"He's made me proud, unlike you," Hades said coolly. It felt odd to defend his son after their argument, but he didn't deserve to be compared to Hitler... or his half brother.
"Anyway, Father, I came to warn you."
"Warn me about you coming?" Hades asked. "It's a little too late for that."
Hitler have a wry smile. "No. Warn you about who you will meet."
"Who?" Hades was tempted to add a sarcastic remark, but decided against it, thinking his son was serious.
Hitler paused before the next words. "You will be haunted by three ghosts."
Hades stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. It was his first real laugh in a long time. "Are you serious? Me, haunted by ghosts? Do you know who I am?" It was like Poseidon being haunted by sea creatures, or Athena being haunted by books. Or Zeus being haunted by his own ego... "If anything, I'd be the one haunting them."
"Or you'd make them hate you," Hitler said, smiling. "Like you made everyone else hate you."
Hades paled. "How do you know about that?"
"Isn't it obvious? It's no secret your family hates you." Hades calmed down. So he didn't know about the events of the day.
"Even if what you say is true, I'll order them to leave me alone, and they will," Hades asserted, ignoring the last statement.
"No they won't," he said. "They're not the ghosts you know. They won't take orders from you, though you can try. They're not afraid of you."
"Everyone is afraid of me," Hades retorted, rather proud of it.
"Or they hate you," Hitler retorted.
"Wait..." Hades paused. "This all seems rather familiar. A ghost in shackles and three ghosts?" He had heard of the story. Even read it once, a century ago. He had heard from his brothers that the movies were better.
Hitler ignored him. "You will meet the first ghost at one."
"Couldn't I meet them all at once, and get it over with?" Hades asked.
He ignored him again. "You will meet the second at two."
"Let me guess, the third at three?" Hades asked.
Surprise, he ignored him yet again. "You will meet the third at three."
"I already have to deal with hundreds of ghosts on a daily basis," snapped Hades. "Now they can't even let me sleep in peace?"
Without replying, ghost in front of him faded away until the room was empty again. Hades was about to look around the dark room, but before he could, his eyes shot open, and he was lying in his bed.