Author Note:
Another chapter! This story is just writing itself!
As always, feel free to leave a review and happy reading! :)
Chapter 4
Cry Me a River Styx
Present Day: 2 Days, 20 Hours, 2 Minutes A.T.H
"Why does anyone do anything?" she asked, running a hand through her hair. Hades raised a brow and shrugged. She tilted her head towards the ceiling of the dark room, once again letting out a deep sigh.
"Love. I did it for love."
"Love?" he questioned, sounding like he didn't believe her. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
She nodded, continuing to keep her eyes trained on the ceiling of the small, cave-like room. The water from earlier had resumed its leaking, dripping onto the table. She spotted a miniscule crack, the apparent source of the leaking, in the ceiling above the table.
"Not for fame? Glory? Money? Power? Maybe even-"
"Why is that so hard to believe?" she interjected, rubbing her forehead. Gods, she had a nasty headache. What she would give for an aspirin right now. "Yes, I stole it for love."
"Love for whom, exactly? Do not tell me you are about to spend eternity in the P.O.T for some guy."
"Well, not exactly…"
"Ugh, you mortals are so dramatic about love," Hades moaned, waving his hand towards her. "You are so obsessed with each other. I remember this one particular soul that I had the misfortune of running into. Dale? Dave? Anyways, he held this unrequited love his whole earthly life - he was definitely assigned to the Mourning Fields, by the way - and he died in the most interesting, horrific way-"
As Hades continued with his story, she stared at the small puddle forming on the table. When was the last time she showered? Had something to drink? The water seemed to be taunting her, reminding her of the fact that she was trapped in literal hell. She was going to be deprived of even the most basic necessities here, even something as simple as water. Maybe this was her last opportunity to touch water, to drink it. She crept her hand towards the puddle…
Only to have Hades hastily jump out of his seat and slap her hand away, rather hard.
"What do you think you are doing?" Hades yelled in disbelief, his eyes wide.
"What am I doing?" she yelped incredulously, rubbing her sore hand. "What are you doing?"
"That water most likely is coming from Styx," he answered slowly, as if he were speaking to a child.
She stared for one second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
"Styx," she said flatly.
"Yes, Styx."
"Styx," she said again with the same flat tone.
"Are you deaf? Yes, the River Styx."
"Let me get this straight," she started, her voice deceptively calm. "I'm in the lower caverns of the Hall of Judgement, the location where every mortal's place in the afterlife is decided, quite possibly the most important edifice in the entire universe for a mortal, and there's a goddamn leak in the ceiling?!"
"I am quite busy down here, I'll have you know," Hades shot back defensively. "I do not have time to inspect every nook and cranny for leaks."
"I cannot believe this. What if I would have accidently touched it earlier? Or what if it more cracks start forming?" she questioned, sending an uneasy look to the ceiling. "Do you know what would happen to me if I touched it?! Gods!"
"Yes, I am quite aware of what would happen, hence me slapping your hand away," he answered haughtily. "You are welcome, by the way."
"I can't believe it. I assumed that Hell would have higher standards than this," she remarked sardonically.
"Oh my gods, can we move past this? So there is one tiny crack in the ceiling, big deal."
"Where is the water even coming from? The river can't be above us."
Hades let out an exasperated sigh.
"Trying to tame or understand the River Styx is futile. She flows and floods wherever she desires down here. Even I cannot control her."
"You know what? I don't care. Let's get back to the story," she said, inching her seat away from the drops of the Styx.
"Good, yes," Hades agreed. "So who exactly did you love to an insane degree in order to be persuaded to break into Olympus?"
"I wasn't persuaded to break into Mount Olympus," she corrected, rolling her eyes. "You make me sound like a crazy, idiotic girlfriend who was talked into it."
"So you did break into Olympus for a guy?"
"Hmm, sort of."
"Sort of? You either did or did not. Which is it?"
"It's both."
"Both?" Hades asked, clearly frustrated.
"Yes."
Hades let out an annoyed breath.
"Alright, so you both did and did not break into Olympus for a boy, one that you love?"
"Yes."
"We will get back to that later, I suppose."
She nodded her assent. Scratching her head, she absentmindedly wondered how much time she had left. She reflexively glanced down at her wrist.
Three hours, fifty-five minutes.
Hades noticed her eyeing her right wrist, so he snatched it and brought it to his bright eyes to inspect. His eyebrows lowered in confusion, unsure of what he was seeing.
"What," he said, continuing to stare at her wrist, "is this?"
He was referring to the black, splatter-like smudge on the inside of her wrist. The small, dark mark was constantly changing shape, making it seem almost alive. On the inside of the mark were red numbers.
Three hours, fifty four minutes.
"It's my... watch," she answered sheepishly.
His eyes narrowed, shifting his gaze between her face and her wrist.
"Your…..watch?" he asked, obviously not believing her.
"Of sorts, yes," she answered. "It's also a GPS."
"Explain," he demanded.
"It's a… cursed watch and GPS, I suppose," she answered thoughtfully.
"Is this why you are so eager to be thrown into the P.O.T? You are being-"
"Can you please stop calling it that?" she interjected.
"What? The P.O.T?"
"Yes, it's getting rather tiring," she said through gritted teeth, attempting to pull her arm away from Hades. His grip on her only tightened, refusing to let go.
"I was attempting to be cordial. Lightening the mood, as it were."
"How does calling it the 'P.O.T' lighten the mood?" she asked, exasperated.
"Well, I figured calling it the 'P.O.T' instead of its real name would help ease the sting of your reality, allowing you to distance yourself from the fact that you will be spending your eternity in the deepest, darkest place in all of existence. You know, the place where the most deliciously wicked mortals, Titans, and gods spend their time torturing each other."
She stared at him, her muscles locking up.
"Plus 'the Pit of Tartarus' is a bit of a mouthful to say," he added flippantly. She yanked her arm back again, and he reluctantly released her. Self consciously, she covered up the mark on her wrist.
"I guess…. you can keep calling it the P.O.T. then," she responded quietly, unable to keep the fear out of her voice. He sent her a sympathetic look, his hand moving towards hers, as if to comfort her. He stopped himself midway, his hand returning to his side. He shook his head and cleared his throat.
"Back to this 'watch and GPS' thing on your wrist," he said, clearly uneasy about his almost-gesture of comfort. "What happens when the time runs out? Do you die? You are already in Hell. What's the point of killing you? You are practically dead already. And did you really need a GPS telling you that you are in Hell? I thought that would have been quite clear."
She sent him a glare.
"First of all, this GPS doesn't give me directions. Secondly-"
"What do you mean the GPS does not give you directions? That is literally the sole purpose of a GPS."
"Secondly," she said, ignoring his inquiry, "I'm not practically dead; I'm still alive. If I were dead, then I would be like the other mindless zombies wandering around here."
"They are most certainly not zombies; they do not have a desire to eat - or a desire to do - anything. That includes eating brains," Hades said matter-of-factly. "If anything, they are like ghosts or spirits."
She rolled her eyes at him and rubbed her temples again. Her headache wasn't getting any better.
"I didn't mean actual zombies, Hades. It was just an expression," she grumbled.
"Just making sure you were properly educated in the matters of Hell. Some mortals come down here severely misinformed," Hades chuckled. "And for your information, only the souls that are in the Mourning Fields and the Asphodel Fields lack their phrenes, their wit. All other souls in Hell are very much aware of where they are."
This was news to her. She was taught that all souls in the Underworld desired nothing and were unable to grasp the reality of their afterlife.
"Really? So those in Elysium and the P.O.T still have their phrenes?" she asked, surprise coloring her tone.
"As well as those in the Isle of the Blessed, yes," Hades nodded. "They know where they are, and they have the capacity to desire; it is just a matter of whether or not those desires are met. Those in the Elysium and the Isle of the Blessed are allowed to have their wishes fulfilled. Those in the P.O.T….. not so much."
"Good to know," she murmured.
"Anything else I can answer for you? If not, I am dying to hear some more of your story," he snickered.
"Was that supposed to be a joke?" she asked, not amused.
"Of course it was," he answered, sounding offended. She rolled her eyes at him. She stretched her arms out, cracking the bones. Taking in a deep breath, she prepared herself to tell the Lord of the Underworld her story.
"Well, I guess I'll start with-"
"How long did it take for you to plan this heist?" Hades interrupted.
"One week," she answered, huffing a breath of annoyance.
"One week?!" he asked in disbelief.
"I didn't really have a choice," she shrugged.
"Did not have a-? You are supposed to be clearing things up for me, not confuse me further!" Hades exclaimed, rubbing his temple.
"Well, stop asking me the wrong questions and let me tell the damn story," she replied snottily. He raised a brow at her sass, his jaw clenching in irritation.
"My apologies," she muttered.
"No matter," he said, waving away her apology. "I shall just sit back and not interrupt."
It was her turn to raise a brow at him.
"Alright, try not to interrupt," he amended. "But I make no promises."
She let out a small laugh and smiled.
"Alright, well I guess the story really begins with the night Noah and I-"
"Noah?" he interrupted yet again.
She sent him a glare.
"I said no promises!" he said, shrugging his shoulders.
"Noah is my boyfriend. Was my boyfriend," she corrected wistfully.
"Was?"
She nodded, avoiding his eyes.
"It started the night Noah and I went to the movies, about five months ago."
"What's so special about that?"
"Because that night was really the beginning of the end," she said, returning to her eyes to his.
"That was the night the Fury kidnapped Noah."