by C. R. Jane
“Why did he call me Persephone?” I called after her, needing to know the answer for some reason.
She froze in her tracks. Her shoulders slumped as I watched, and she gave a large sigh.
She looked back at me sadly. “It’s probably because you bear a striking resemblance to Master’s long lost love, Persephone,” she said warily, watching my reaction carefully.
The man who had just been in the room looked like he was barely thirty. How long ago did he lose this Persephone?
I opened my mouth to ask another question, but the cook had left the room. I knew she would probably be bringing out food in just a moment, but I had no appetite since my strange encounter with my handsome host. Feeling oddly tired despite all the sleep I had gotten the night before, I got up and left the dining hall, returning to my room.
As I walked up the mountainous stairs, a sound that resembled a man wailing in agony sounded in my ears. I had never heard such a devastated sound in my life. Somehow, I knew that it belonged to the man from earlier and that I was the cause of such pain.
Maybe it would make him let me go.
Surprisingly, a dinner tray was already waiting on my bed when I finally got to my room. Luckily the sound of the man’s anguish couldn’t be heard from my room, and I was able to find some peace although he didn’t stray far from my thoughts. I picked at the dinner even though the food looked like something you would find at a five-star restaurant.
My sleep was fitful that night as his star filled gaze filled my dreams.
Chapter 4
The next morning, I woke up feeling like I had been run over by a twenty-ton truck. I was debating whether to go back to sleep when a knock sounded on the door.
Not thinking of what I looked like, I dragged myself out of bed, walking to the door still half asleep. I quickly woke up however when I saw who was at the door.
He looked just as surprised to see me as I was to see him despite the fact that he was the one who had knocked on my door. There was a slight flush to his cheeks as he glanced down at my barely clothed body. Too late I realized that I was standing in front of this Adonis in boy shorts and a white cami that left very little to the imagination. I quickly hid my body behind the door, peeking just my head out. But it was too late. There was a fire in his eyes that hadn’t been there the night before. Like he had seen something he liked, and he wanted it very much.
“Can I help you?” I finally said in a voice that came out much breathier than I would have liked.
He cleared his throat and shook his head slightly as if he was trying to clear it. “I was wondering if you would like to have breakfast with me. I was having a poor evening last night and I squandered our first meeting,” he said. His voice rolled over me, the sensation of it like bathing in a warm bath. It was smooth and cultured, warm and masculine. I had never heard a sound I liked more.
It took me a second to regain my wits. “I’m sorry, but I have no earthly clue who you are?” I told him once I had regained my ability to speak. I noticed for the first time what he was wearing. It was hardly past seven in the morning and he was dressed like he was about to go to a meeting in a boardroom rather than a breakfast in his own home.
He smiled. it was the first time he had done so in my presence and it somehow managed to transform his already perfect looks into something that resembled a miracle. Crazy cult leader or not I was going to remember the moment I had seen him smile for the first time for the rest of my life.
“Ah, I see that the servants have been tight-lipped,” he said charmingly. “They are protective like that. My name is Hades, and I’m honored to have you here.”
“You’re the leader of the cult?” I blurted out, still hiding behind the door.
He looked at me quizzically for a moment before bursting into laughter. “That’s quite clever,” he said. His laugh did something funny to my insides. “I guess that story makes sense in this case,” he said. “But no, Elena. This is not a cult compound, and I am not a cult leader,” he said, still smiling. The way he said my name made me hot all over.
My cheeks flushed. I had no other ideas for why I would be here. Did my mother owe someone money? Was my brother being held hostage somewhere and this was the payment? I needed to ask about a million more questions, but I thought it might be best to get dressed first.
“Just give me a moment,” I said, closing the door before he could answer. I hurried to the closet, cursing again when I remembered the lack of jeans. Thinking of how dressed up he had been, I grabbed a sundress that managed to fit me better than any other piece of clothing had before. I hurried into the bathroom and began brushing my hair.
I looked dreadful, like I hadn’t slept in days. My eyes were still swollen from all the crying that I had been doing. I opened a drawer and saw that it was full of makeup products, all colors that seemed like they would suit me. I began to put some mascara on before I stopped. Why in the world was I trying to impress this person who was essentially my kidnapper? I walked out of my bedroom without putting on any more makeup.
When I saw him waiting in the hallway, there was a sense of familiarity about him that I couldn’t shake, and when we touched as I wrapped my arm around his proffered arm, it almost felt like our souls were connecting. It was romantic nonsense, but the guy did something to me.
“Let’s walk around the grounds,” he said, sounding more like an eighteenth-century lord than a man in the twenty-first century.
We didn't exchange any more words until we made it outside of the castle. I found myself in a garden that looks straight from the garden of Eden. There were statues of various gods and goddesses that I didn't know the name of situated here and there, lending further credence to the idea that this was a cult obsessed with Greek and Roman mythology. He gave me furtive glances as we walked, turning away as soon as I was looking at him. It was like he had a million questions on the tip of his tongue, but he was too afraid to ask. Finally, I broke the silence.
"Why am I here?" I said, peering at him closely. He sighed and I could somehow feel his regret. There was something about him that seemed ancient in that moment.
“The reason why you're here is a little hard to believe,” he answered, stopping at a bench to sit down. He took both of my hands in his. It somehow felt like the most intimate moment that I'd ever experienced in my life. There was something about him that drew me in, made me want to know everything about him, uncover all of his secrets...fall in love. Love? Where did that come from?
“What if I told you that I was the God Hades, cursed to search for the reincarnation of my lost love,” he said, watching me closely. I burst out laughing, I was so shocked. I had expected him to be crazy, but this was a level I hadn’t anticipated.
I tried to pull my hands away, but he held them tightly. "Greek Gods," he said earnestly. "They aren’t just legends. We've hid ourselves throughout the years but we’re still around,” he said. He changed topics abruptly. “What do you know about the legend of Hades and Persephone,” he asked.
Having decided that the man I was sitting next to was in fact a crazy person that could attack me at any time, I decided to try to play long in order to appease him.
“Didn’t he steal her away from her mother by tricking her, and then somehow he got her to eat half a pomegranate which forced her to spend half a year with him after that?” I asked, watching his face closely to make sure he wasn’t about to attack me. He grimaced.
“That is how the legend goes,” he said. “But that's not how it was in reality. Persephone and I were in love,” he said softly, a wistful longing in his voice that made my heart ache. “So in love that the rest of the Gods were jealous because they had never been loved as intensely as she loved me,” he said. “She was killed by one of my brothers. I've never found out who did it, although I have my suspicions. The Fates felt sorry for my lost love, especially after they saw me go mad with grief. They made a promise to me that Persephone would be reborn, and we would be reunited once ag
ain.”
“What does this have to do with me?" I asked.
He stared into my eyes, so intensely it was like he was trying to see right into my soul. In that moment I half wondered if he could. “Your family was picked by the Fates. It was their prophecy that Persephone would be reincarnated through your family line. No one has been a match yet.” This time, he let me yank my hands free from his grasp. This lunatic actually thought that there was a chance I was the reincarnated version of his old dead girlfriend. It was enough that he considered himself some kind of God, but how did my family get picked to be the object of his hysteria?
"My name is Elena," I said firmly. "I was born on January 2nd in a tiny town in Illinois, fifty miles from Chicago. I've lived at 101 Westchester Drive my entire life with my mother and my brother. I am not your reincarnated lost love. And I demand that you release me.”
He looked desperate after hearing my impassioned speech. He reached again for my hands, but I held them protectively against myself so that he couldn't touch me.
“Please, Elena, just listen. We are both a victim of this insufferable curse. It’s been centuries since someone in your family was picked by the Fates to come here. Your ancestors…” He trailed off, staring into the distance as if he was looking into another life. “Well, it was quite clear that they weren’t her from the very beginning. It was like that with all of them. They couldn't do it,” he said.
“Do what?" I asked. An ache had developed in my chest from his story. It was like something he had said was calling me. Probably it was the fact that I couldn’t help but feel sorry for anyone with a sad story, crazy or not.
"They could never love me like she did."
I shook myself from the spell he had woven over me and began to back away slowly.
"I'm leaving," I said. “You need to let me go.”
He shook his head sadly. “You won't be able to. There's nothing I can do that will allow you beyond these walls until the Fates are satisfied that you are not her."
I turned and ran away.
Desperate to find the edge of the property, I ran around the side of the house towards the front to where I knew there was a road that at least led to the rest of civilization. But just as I was about to take a step onto the gravel road that had led us to the castle, it was as if I hit a glass wall. I bounced back so hard from the invisible barrier that I was thrown to the ground. Standing up, and refusing to believe that this was real, I once again charged towards the road.
The same thing happened.
This time I got a dozen scrapes from the rocky ground underneath me. A manic energy passed over me at that point. In a panic I continued what I knew to be a useless effort. I began to run along the side of the property, periodically testing to see if I could take a step forward. Each time I failed. Finally, after I'd fallen too many times to count, I laid on the ground, my body bruised and bleeding. I desperately tried to suck in air as tears streamed down my face.
He stepped in front of me and looked down at me. He looked at me in a mournful way as if my pain was causing him true agony.
Bending down, he carefully lifted me into his arms, cradling me as if I was the most precious thing he'd ever held. I was too tired to try and get away from him.
I'll prove to you that I am Hades, King of the Underworld," he said. "Then we can at least spend the rest of the time you’re here being friendly to one another until the Fates decide to release us both.” I passed out after that.
Chapter 5
I woke up in my bed. It took a moment for me to remember everything that happened. And when I did, I expected there to be a flash of pain as the memory of all my injuries came back to me.
Surprisingly, as I sat up, I felt better than ever. It was like I’d visited a rejuvenating spa instead of having my ass handed to me by a mystical force that I was still pretending didn't exist.
There was a knock on the door as if someone had been waiting outside so they could hear when I woke up. Not wanting to make the same mistake of opening the door practically naked, I hurriedly pulled on a silk robe that had appeared on the hook outside of my closet and walked to the main door.
I cracked it open.
It was him again.
“I'd like to answer more of your questions this morning if you let me," he said. He looked just as beautiful as ever this morning. But beautiful didn't seem like the right word. He was more man than I ever seen in one person. The perfect embodiment of everything that you could ever wish for and love. There was no way to not feel attraction, even if he was crazy.
Remembering his last words, he had said to me the day before, I decided that I would play nice this morning. I still suspected that he was crazy, but my mother had always told me that it was easier to catch flies with honey than it was with vinegar, and cooperation seemed to be the honey that I had to offer today.
"Just give me a moment," I said, and I couldn’t help but love how his eyes lit up at my words with a fervent hope.
I put on a simple blue dress that reminded me of those eyes. It was a stupid thing to do, but my heart could be stupid sometimes. I opened the door, and he gave me an appreciative glance that made my cheeks blush.
"Let’s have breakfast, and then I'll prove to you that I’m not crazy," he said as he offered his arm again for me to take.
We walked downstairs to the dining room where the chef had laid out an array of dishes. It was a far cry from the pancake breakfast that I usually ate in the mornings. There were recognizable things like grapefruit, apple slices, and oranges, but there were also things like hard-boiled eggs and other dishes that I didn’t usually eat for breakfast.
"Would you like some eggs?" he said, holding the plate of hard-boiled eggs. "The chef does something to them that makes them better than any eggs that I've ever tasted," he said with a smile. Moving to put one on my plate. I shook my head. "I'm allergic to hard-boiled eggs," I said. His eyes seemed to spark at my comment. “How interesting. Are you allergic to all eggs?” he asked in a way that was supposed to sound nonchalant but failed miserably.
"No. It's a strange thing. It’s just hard-boiled eggs. And no one else in my family is allergic. I eat scrambled eggs almost every day," I said with a laugh.
I noticed that his hand was trembling. "Is everything all right? Are you sensitive about egg consumption?" I asked, laughing at the thought.
He recovered from whatever he had been thinking, and I watched as he schooled his face until it was perfectly devoid of any expression.
“Just curious," he said. "But that does seem strange. What other allergies do you have?" he asked. "I believe I’m allergic to pomegranate," I said in jest. He laughed and we continued eating. He didn't ask any more follow up questions, and the earlier tension disappeared.
When we were both finished, he stood up and extended his hand towards me. I felt nervous for some reason. What was he going to show me? Was this where he showed that he was actually a crazy psycho and I ended up in a dark hole with him wearing my face?
I took his hand, my hand trembling as I did so. "Relax,” he said softly. “Everything is going to be alright."
We walked down a hallway that Cerberus hadn’t shown me when he was giving me a tour the other day. Hades took an ancient looking key out of his pocket and inserted it into the lock on the door. "Never try to get in here without me present,” he ordered, his voice the most serious I had heard it sound. I nodded, my anticipation and fear growing as I wondered what was going to be beyond the door.
He opened the door, and I gasped in amazement. The inside of the room resembled a cave, a cave that stretched on and on so far that I couldn’t see where it ended. Pulling me beside him, we began to walk through the cave. My mind struggled to try and understand how this could be. It had to be some kind of elaborate decoration. He must've had some Hollywood set designer come and re-create a cave he had seen.
But even as I had that thought, I couldn’t help but notice how the room even felt like a cave. The air was
damp and earthy smelling. The ground underneath my feet felt like stone and dirt. Why try and create something like this in your home...unless it was real.
Surely it couldn’t be real?
As we walked deeper, a light appeared in the distance. It grew brighter and brighter, until I could see that it was emanating from a large lake that was giving off a ghastly green glow.
I didn't think it was possible that anyone was skilled enough to put a lake in a house, castle or not. Something strange was definitely going on. Once we reached the shore line, a boat appeared. And in the boat, I saw Charon. Except he wasn’t the same Charon I had met before. He looked even more skeletal in the dim, green lighting. More demon than human. Instead of the suit he had been wearing before, he was dressed in a simple black shift. He looked like I had always imagined the mythical Charon had looked.
"Master," he said to Hades. Hades just nodded at him and stepped into the boat, helping me to step inside of it afterwards.
I was officially freaked out.
We began to move across the lake. Looking down into the water, I realized that it wasn't just a light that was emanating from the water. There seemed to be what looked like spirits in the water underneath me.
I shifted closer, unable to believe what my eyes were seeing. The spirits seemed to be crying out in agony as they stared up at me. These weren’t the lovely spirits we'd been promised we would be in our Catholic Mass. These were spirits in torment. Their hands seem to reach out to me beseechingly. I felt myself moving to get closer to them.
"Elena" I heard Hades’ panicked voice say before a pair of strong arms grabbed me and pulled me back into the safety of the boat. "Don't touch them," he said chastisingly. "They feast on misery and they would love to get someone like you in their midst."