Asphodel (The Underworld Trilogy)

“I’m, I’m only fifffteen,” the boy whimpered, stuttering at the same time.

Hades exhaled as the rage inside of him died down. He relaxed his stance slouching over, slightly. Even though, the young boy had taken too much of his time and Hades contemplated sending him to the depths of Tartarus, he knew couldn’t. Not because he wasn’t able to, but because despite his cold demeanor and mischievous ways, He had always been a fair and just God. And the boy didn’t deserve to spend an eternity being tortured endlessly. “Stand up,” He instructed the teen, calmly.

The boy rose from his seat, trying desperately to lock his trembling knees in place. Hades placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and the young teen blanched, turning away. “Do not fear me,” Hades said boldly. Slowly, the boy turned toward Hades, peaking up at him from the corner of his eye. Then the God of the Dead closed his eyes and recited the same thing he’d recited for the last five-thousand years. “The realm of the dead welcomes you. Go forth and find your home in the Field of Asphodel so that you may live out your eternity in peace.”

Every soul on the ferry vanished. They’d been assigned to their forever. And then Hades vanished, appearing in his throne room. Walls of black and matching black marble tile floors engulfed him and he sat back on the red, velvet cushioned throne. He looked up at a cast-iron clock on the wall. Seven minutes to midnight. In seven minutes, he’d have another opportunity to take her, hopefully his last.

He recalled the first time saw her in the Hall of the Gods, trailing behind Demeter. Her mahogany hair glistened red in the sunlight. Her skin was a creamy peach color. And her eyes were the most stunning shade of Jade-green he’d ever seen.

Hades had been chasing Demeter and her daughter for five-thousand years. He hadn’t been chasing them for his own purposes, either. Well, his own purpose was a small part of why he’d been chasing them. There were two other main reasons why he’d been after Demeter and her daughter for the last five thousand years; the first was he wanted to teach Zeus a lesson for going back on their deal. The second, because he felt something the first time he saw her that was too powerful to deny.

In the past, Demeter was always able to out-smart him. Demeter had always kept her daughter close—too close. But with every passing century, Hades felt himself getting closer and closer.

Hades had a feeling that during this seventeen year span it would be different. He would finally get what he’d always longed for, a queen. Or who he’d always longed for Persephone.

Demeter

It was five minutes until midnight and Demeter knew there was no way that she’d be able to sleep. Red burned into her eyes from the digital clock on the nightstand. 11:56 another minute slipped away.

One day every seventeen years Demeter suffered through a sleepless night. She couldn’t sleep before midnight because she was too worried about what she knew would happen to her daughter. And she couldn’t sleep afterwards because she feared that when she woke up in the morning, he might have visited her daughter in the night and stole her from her bed.

Demeter had tried for thousands of years to out-run Hades. She was smart, moving with her daughter like a nomad from place to place—from century to century, but Hades was smarter. He always found them. It didn’t matter how discreet they were or what continent they were living on. Hades found them every time.

Demeter had even tried using transformation magic to shield her appearance and her child’s from death himself, but not even some of her powers were of any use because he was that much more powerful. One time, on an off year Hades had visited Demeter while her child was at school. She had been at the kitchen sink, washing dishes and she didn’t e

ven need to look up to know he was behind her. The moment he entered the room a slight chill whipped through the lavender curtains right above the kitchen sink. Demeter tensed up, gripping onto the tan ceramic plate in her left hand and let go of the dish sponge. “What do you want, Hades?”

He crept closer to her, the sound of his footsteps pounded into the hardwood floor. “I think you know what I want, Demeter,” he stated calmly. “I think you’ve always known what I want.”

Demeter spun around, pressing her back into the crème counter-top, facing the commander of all things unliving and sneered. “You won’t ever get what you want, Hades. I will never let you have her.”

Hades laughed, his rich deep voice bordered along the lines wickedness and insanity as it filled the confined rectangular room. “Oh, I will get her, Demeter.” Hades glided closer, snatching her wrist and squeezed it hard. So hard, that Demeter’s knees buckled and slammed into the hardwood floor. Hades wasn’t able to kill her, but he was able to cause her agonizing pain.

At first, the pain felt like a mild bug bite, irritating, but tolerable. Then as it spread through her body, the pain became so excruciating, Demeter couldn’t breathe. She panted, trying to be strong, but it was no use. As Hades squeezed her wrist tighter, she felt like her limbs were being ripped from her by a pack of hungry hyenas. “Stop!” she cried. “Stop! Releasing her from his grasp, Hades backed away as Demeter hunched over, curling up into the fetal position. As the pain subsided a swirl of coldness flourished through her and her breathing returned to normal.

She glared at Hades giving him a look full of hatred and brutality. Hades smiled, amused. “I knew you’d see things my way. Perhaps, Demeter, we can come to some sort of arrangement.”

Demeter knew better than to bargain with the master of deceit. She struggled to pick herself up and lost her balance, slamming both of her palms into the floor. She pushed herself up again, with more force and knelt down. Then she gripped the counter and hoisted herself up, clutching the edge of the counter tightly as she steadied herself.

“So,” said Hades as her examined his hands. “Do we have a deal then?”

She rolled her shoulders, cracked her neck, and spun around full of so much anger that she trembled. “Never,” Demeter growled, half-rasping half-whispering.

Hades charged toward her. “Oh, apparently I haven’t persuaded you to see things my way enough.”

He was centimeters away, but Demeter was ready for him. She snapped her arms back and clasped her hands together as a gust of wind unfurled from her fingertips. A gust of wind so forceful that it knocked Hades backwards and blew him out the front door.

Exhausted, Demeter crouched down against the cherry-stained wooden cabinets and slouched. She hated using her powers while living in close proximity with the mortals, but Hades gave her no choice.

From that moment on, she knew that she hadn’t been protecting her daughter to the best of her abilities. She had to step up her game because Hades would not and probably would never take no for an answer.

The next day she’d packed up their belongings. “Time to move,” she said, taping up a box full of dishes.

“What no!” Persephone cried. “But we haven’t even been here a year!” She sat down with a slouch, whimpering softly.

It broke Demeter’s heart to see her daughter so upset. She knew how much Persephone wanted normalcy. And sadly Demeter wished their situation was different, but it wasn’t. She and her daughter were who they were, immortal goddesses. Not only that, but they were immortal goddesses on the run from death himself. They weren’t a normal family and never would be.

One minute to midnight and Demeter rose from her bed, creeping toward her bedroom door. In sixty seconds all hell would break loose like it had so many times before.