This chapter has a bit of an M feel to it, forewarning.
Chapter 8:
Paige awakens to find herself engulfed by a sea of black silk and cotton, while blankets and pillows filled with the softest feather down surround her; haphazardly skewed from her sleep. She sits up to examine her surroundings, a large, empty room with large marble walls and columns, the bed itself being the only real form of decoration to it and contrasting dramatically with the stark white walls.
'Don't freak out… don't freak out. What do you remember Paige? The tree, home, Hal…' She thought to herself, mind scattered as she strains to collect the fractured images of her memories.
'I was outside in the field; I had just finished talking to Hal. The pomegranate tree… then a hand and arm around my waist, horses and the earth swallowing me. There was the face of a rotted man, gruesome hands that gripped a pole, a boat and a cold embrace.'
Paige shakes her head to clear the thoughts from it, her legs swinging off to the side of the large bed as she scoots off of it and letting out a small gasp when her bare feet touch the freezing floor.
"This doesn't make any sense," she murmurs to herself, a look of confusion plain on her face. "I must be dreaming. I hit my head and have fallen into a coma, I'm really in the hospital and this is just a hallucination."
Walking to the doorway, she pauses with her hand on the doorknob as she listens carefully for anyone approaching. Upon hearing nothing suspicious, she slowly pushes open the door and steps out into a long, white marble hallway seeming to go endlessly on in both directions. Decidedly turning to the left, she walks down the hall as a heavy sense of déjà vu overwhelms her the moment she approaches a barren courtyard; columns with dead vines that had climbed their way up them at some point and withered trees and saplings lining a path to a small pantheon. Curiosity soon overcomes the woman as she follows the path to the steps leading upwards, climbing them; too entranced by the building to notice the vines, trees and other greenery as it springs to life behind her every step.
Once she reaches the top, she notices double doors which are shut tight with copious amounts of ivy, long since dead. Paige doesn't so much as touch the two before they crack open, ajar just enough to allow her to squeeze inside. Gazing into the room, she spots a bed with sea green blankets and pillows in such plentiful amounts that they overflow onto the floor. Her eyes then climb the walls, paintings of a man and woman quite obviously together, of landscapes showing barren trees that are covered in white and various others that don't garner as much attention from her. Looking back to the painting of the couple, she examines both figures; the man of a pale, almost grey skin, bald with a serious, grave look upon his face yet the painting captures a sense of mischief and warmth in his dark brown eyes. Now, as for the woman, sun-kissed skin is depicted with freckles splashed across her nose, long tendrils of the darkest red hair and familiar green eyes crinkled with humor as if the painting captured the moment a secret joke was shared between the two. Paige stops for a moment, backing up until she bumps into the side of the bed and topples back into it, visions of the couple swimming in her head.
The woman is straddling the man, his hands gripping her hips as her chest is bared to him, her head thrown back and red hair unkempt and tossed behind her, contrasting greatly with the same sea green sheets that pool around her thighs. He lifts himself to meet her part way, watching her as she undulates and her honey-colored body dances above him, swaying and rocking in an entrancing rhythm until his arms suddenly slip behind her back, crushing her to his chest and forcing her beneath as the movements turn violent but passionate. Moments later, the woman lets out a throaty cry, the man following with a growl and shout of his own as the lovers lock in each other's embrace and go still, a small giggle of delight soon bubbling from the woman's mouth.
"Hades…" she murmurs before her mouth is covered by his own and she's silenced.
Paige snaps out of the vision, the room seeming to have changed as she groggily shakes her head and takes a second glance around. All the dust has vanished and ivy, lush and emerald green has crawled up the inner walls and the room appears more alive, brighter and welcoming than when she had first stepped in. Soon, the door is pushed further open and her attention is snapped to it, backing up against the headboard of the bed as the man from the painting walks in.
"I thought I may find you here, my Persephone," he whispers softly, the words carrying to her ears as easily as if he was right beside her.
"My name is Paige," she shakily replies.
"In this life, you may be, but in your first life, you were Persephone, my wife, my queen, my goddess." He walks closer to the bed where she lays, many different emotions flickering across his face as the woman withdraws further away from him.
"You have lived and died, been reborn countless times and I have chased you across centuries, while your mother has hidden you from me, allowing you to succumb to the mortal curse – death. So many gods and goddesses have lost their immortality, including you." He watches her silently after he speaks his piece, trying to gauge her reaction.
"I'm not divine. I'm not immortal, I'm not Persephone, I'm Paige. I'm not a queen and I most certainly, am not your wife," she replies acidly, her usual nervous demeanor dropped.
"You most certainly are. The Underworld has recognized you, this room we're in, they are your chambers. That ivy is climbing and blooming in a land where no life is found. I cannot grow plants in this realm, but you can. I toiled in those fields in the mortal realm, I planted that sapling. I made it all grow except for that single tree. Do you even know our story?" Hades tone grows bitter as his control flickers.
"No," is her simple reply. "I'm finding I care less and less for the knowledge, the more you speak."
"Do you not see how this realm greets you, what your presence alone has brought about? You belong here, I will not stand by and let you slip through my fingers when I have you so close!" He shouts the last remark, stalking towards the woman slowly.
"You're insane, or I'm insane. I'm dreaming, a nightmare, soon my mother will find me and wake –" she is cut off by Hades sudden, booming voice.
"Do not mention that mother of yours in my realm!" He shouts at her, Paige quickly withdrawing further away from him and slipping off the other side of the bed to put more space between them.
"I am not insane, I'm furious! You don't remember me; you've never thought of me, you don't at least recognize your eyes in our portrait? You think this is a nightmare, you think I'm a figment of your imagination and you cling to that damned Demeter, the one who ripped you from me and kept me from finding you through all your lifetimes! You will remember me, so help us, you will remember, if your mind won't recognize me, I'm sure your body will."