Asphodel (The Underworld Trilogy)

by Lauren Hammond

  I slip them on and glide toward the floor-length mirror. The red color against my skin brings out a pink hue in my cheeks and my green eyes look even greener.

  “You look breathtakingly beautiful,” Hades calls from the door.

  I glimpse over my shoulder at a dashing version of death. Dressed from head to in black of course, but he’s added a sliver or red to his ensemble with a crimson tie. His shaggy hair is styled messy, slicked and spiked out in various ways and he smells rustic a mixture of wood, aftershave, and mint. He grins, circling me, and stops inches in front of me, extending an arm. “Shall we?”

  I beam exuberantly filled with excitement. “Are we going somewhere?”

  “I’ll tell you on the way.” Then I take his arm as he guides me out into the hall.

  For the first half the walk neither one of us speaks. The only audible sound is my crimson heels clacking against the marble floor. But right before Hades guides me into the dining hall, he takes both of my hands in his and we face each other.

  “Even on off years when I wasn’t able to come to you, I’ve been watching you,” he says. “I remember one time in particular where you’d been sitting on your porch staring longingly at a group of teens across the street from you as they prepared for a dance mortal teenagers attend.”

  “Mom never let me go to any mortal functions,” I say softly.

  “I’ve never been to one either,” he tells me. “So I thought you’d enjoy it if we could go to one together.” He steps away from me and yanks open the doors to the dining hall and I gasp out in awe as my mouth gapes open.

  Slowly, I slide forward, eyes stifling a look around the gigantic room. The massive dining hall has been transformed into a high school gymnasium with a glittering disco ball spinning from the ceiling. A cleared spot that serves as a dance floor. A full band on a platform performing a slow ballad. Tiny lights dangle from spots in the ceiling, twinkling. There are several circular tables placed in various sections of the room and each table has a red tablecloth. In the center of the table are matching centerpieces complete with red roses, black roses, and silver tinsel.

  Emotion surges through me like a spark of electricity. I’m a loose wire snapping into the air, shooting white volts. Turning, I lock eyes with my captor. “You did all of this for me?”

  A small sincere smile crosses his lips. “Of course I did. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy here. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy with me. I don’t think you understand that I never had any intentions of keeping you here against your will. What I want more than anything is for you stay because you want to.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off. “Let me finish.” He walks closer and takes my hands, gently massaging my skin with his thumbs. Warmth drifts up my arms and sears through my insides before it takes up residence in my cheeks. “I will never hurt you and as long as you’re with me you can have anything your heart desires. You don’t even have to say what is. Just think it and it will be yours.”

  “You shouldn’t have done this.” I stutter, “It’s…It’s…”

  He scrunches his bold, black eyebrows. “You don’t like it?” He pulls out of my grasp. “It’s fine if you don’t like it, I’ll have everything taken down. We can do something else.”

  Hades raises his hand and I rush over to him lacing my fingers through his. “No. That’s not what I meant.” I swallow hard and stare at our interlocked hands. “I meant that you shouldn’t have gone out of your way. I do like this. I love this. The decorations, the band, everything. I’ve always wanted to go to the mortals’ prom.”

  “Oh.” Hades flashes me a brilliant smile and I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him fully smile since I’ve been here. And his perfect, white smile takes my breath away. “Would you like to sit then?” I nod and he raises the opposite hand and two chairs magically slide back from the table. He helps me into my seat and then sits down next to me. “Are you hungry?” He claps his hands and a magnificent feast materializes before my eyes. Turkey. Mashed potatoes. And all the trimmings. A lot like what the humans eat on Thanksgiving.

  A painful howl ripples through my abdomen. I’m starving and I can’t even recall the last full meal I ate. But mom’s voice bounces off the walls of my brain like a pinball in a machine. “You cannot eat in the realm of the dead.”

  My eyes center on sweet rolls in the middle of the table dripping with hot butter. I fight off the urge to stuff one into my mouth. “No,” I say weakly. “I’m not hungry.”

  Hades fills his plate and stares at the empty one in front of me. “If you eat this, you won’t be bound here. You have my word.”

  Even though he says I won’t be bound to this realm, I still feel uneasy about eating. I still feel uneasy about him in general. Sometimes he makes me feel the way Adonis used to. Like a school girl with a crush. I smile when I think of Adonis. This is the first time I’d thought about him since I was pulled under. I wonder what he’s doing now. I wonder if he showed up the next morning after my party to walk me to school.

  But there are other times where I feel like Hades is putting on the best play of his long life. I can’t decide whether he’s being sincere all of the time or only some of the time and that keeps me questioning on whether I’ll stay or not. So for now, I think its best that I don’t jump into a situation with him that I don’t trust. “I’m really not hungry,” I tell him. “Go ahead and enjoy your food.”

  Another reason I don’t eat is because despite what he says, I can’t help but feel like a tiny morsel of this meal will separate me from my mom forever. And I miss her so much as it is.

  I watch Hades intensely as he eats and he doesn’t eat how I expect a person of his age to eat. I guess I had this vision of him inhaling the food, cramming as much food into his mouth as possible with his hands, eager to ease the hunger inside of him. But doesn’t eat like a savage. He eats mannerly and he chews all of the muscles in his jaw tighten and flex.

  For a second I forget that I’m gawking at him until he catches me. And suddenly, I’m embarrassed and upset because I feel like I could stare at him for hours and never want to look away. Lowering his fork, he picks up a black napkin and wipes the corners of his mouth. “Is something wrong?” he asks a worried look on his face.

  “No.”

  “Do I frighten you?” He seems like he wants me to be afraid of him. Maybe that’s because he’s used to it. Most people fear the reaper. Unfortunately for him, I’m not most people.

  “No,” I answer quickly. “But you could smile more often. You’re beautiful when you smile.” I catch myself after the last comment and clamp my jaw shut. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to give false hope in case I do decide to leave, but I can’t help but feel more attached to him with every second we spend together.

  Inside I’m a Picasso painting. Scattered, deformed, and messy. Bright colors splashed here and there. More than anything I’m flustered and I know that I’m blushing. An unsettling silence swirls around us. He smirks, studying my face. I stare back at him, trying to think of words to break the quiet, but I can’t think of anything. His radiant, wandering eyes rip my tongue out. I’m mute. I wish I knew sign language.

  Hades starts to crack. He’s a tremor, rippling across the ground, a miniscule fracture spreading vastly, tearing up the soil. Then his mouth opens and the fracture widens. His mouth is a crater and he smiles wide and laughs. A deep booming laugh. A harmonious laugh that rings out and makes me laugh in return. He extends his hand. “Come on.”

  I take his hand and we rise from our chairs. “What are we doing now?” I ask. Every time he makes a gesture I feel like he has another surprise in store for me.

  “I thought you might like to dance,” he muses.

  I laugh. “You’re right. I would.”

  In a flash, he vanishes and appears behind me, his warm hands resting against my bare shoulders. His lips are inch away from my earlobe. “Will you dance with me then,” he wh
ispers. And his whisper blows up inside of my head like a monsoon sound system. He voice trickles from my head into my throat before resting in my heart cavity.

  “I will,” I say as his hands slide down my back and rest on my waist. He spins me around to face him and I close my eyes for a moment and when I open them we’re in the middle of the dance floor swaying back and forth as the band plays another ballad.

  Lights flicker and dance across his face, highlighting his high cheekbones as he pulls me closer, enveloping me in his arms. “I didn’t think you’d be a good dancer,” I joke.

  “Are you kidding? I’m an excellent dancer, but I will say I’ve done a lot of improving in the last five thousand years,” he says, dipping me backwards.

  “Well, then you’ll have to forgive me if I step on your toes,” I reply as he pulls me back up. “I’m afraid I don’t have that much experience.”

  He laughs. “You can step on my toes anytime you want.” I smile and rest my head against his shoulder as he wraps his arms around me tighter. I even feel him plant a soft kiss on the top of my head. But I don’t care. This moment is too perfect to interrupt.

  I never thought that I’d be in an elaborately decorated ballroom, at my own prom dancing with death himself. And I never thought that I’d actually be falling for him.

  Hades

  At the end of the night Hades escorted Persephone back to her room, said goodnight, and retired to his own room. But he didn’t intend on actually staying in his room. He waited until he was certain Persephone was sleeping and walked back to her room.

  Hades stood outside of her doorway watching her sleep. Her soft breathing filled the room melodically and it reminded him of a musician plucking the strings on a harp and the soft look on her face reminded him of peace.

  Today had gone exactly as he planned. Actually it had gone better than he planned. He was pleased that he was able to pull it off. He knew he had never been the romantic type, but slowly when it came to Persephone he realized that anything was possible.

  She was the light to his darkness. The compassion to his rage. The key to his heart. Point blank, Persephone was everything to him.

  The moment he first saw her ages ago he knew he was attracted to her, but that attraction had blossomed into something true and beautiful. Something he’d wanted his whole life. Love.

  Uncertainty throbbed inside of him as he walked down the hall away from her room. Did she feel the same way about him? He couldn’t be certain and that plagued the mighty God.

  There were moments earlier in the evening where he’d thought she was looking at him with love or adoration. He thought. There was no certainty because Hades didn’t know anything about love. He couldn’t only base his opinions on the way he felt in his gut. And the way he felt in his gut was that maybe just maybe Persephone felt more for him than she was prepared to admit. Maybe just maybe she loved him in return.

  Persephone

  I set out on a mission the next morning. Back to the control room I’d found when I’d first arrived. A vision of mom came to me in my dreams and I had this urge to see her consuming me since I’d woken up. Part of me hopes that she’s feeling better, even though I know that’s probably not the case. I think seeing her upset will put me back in my place because ever since last night I can’t get over Hades and how I might not want to leave him.

  Repeating all the steps I had followed a few days earlier, I smile at the sight of mom who is standing in front of a window. She looks better, healthier. The color is back in her cheeks and her face looks fuller, like she’s been eating. She’s even wearing a tiny smile. The sight of her smile makes me smile.

  As I focus more intensely on her face I notice something, she’s not at home. Wherever she is the walls are bright, too bright, almost blinding in a way. I can’t make out any more of the room she’s in. Where is she?

  Suddenly, lights in the room come on and mom’s picture cuts out. I twist around and Hades stands behind me, his arms crossed, his back against the control panel. “What are you doing?” he questions.

  I exhale and my chest sinks. “Please don’t be mad. I had to see her. I had to see my mom.”

  “I’m not mad,” he says calmly. “How did you know you’d be able to see her in this room?”

  I explain to him how I’d stumbled across this room when I’d first arrived and was curious about it so I explored and was able to see mom after I’d first been taken.

  He nods in an understanding way and sighs, “I could have done better if you would have asked.”

  I inch closer to him. “What do you mean you could have done better?”

  “I could have taken you to see her. In the flesh.”

  “What? How?”

  “You know I’m able to make myself and anyone else with me invisible.”

  “Oh. I forgot about that.” Then I snort, trying to keep the laugh that’s stuck in my esophagus from coming up.

  Hades tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes. “What’s so funny?”

  “I just thought you’d be angrier.”

  He smirks. “At this?” He shakes his head. “You sneaking in to the control room is nothing that would make me mad. Besides, you haven’t even seen my real temper. And that’s something I hope you’ll never have to see.”

  Vivid flashbacks of our moment in the hall resurface. If that wasn’t real temper, then he’s right, I don’t want see it.

  We walk down the hall and arrive at the front doors to the palace. Hades yanks open one of the large cast iron doors. “Well how is she?”

  “Who?” I ask, puzzled. “My mom?”

  He nods.

  “She looks much better.”

  “Good. Then we can get going without you being distracted.”

  I smile, excited that he has another surprise in store for me. “Where are we going?”

  “Now I’m sure you know I’m not going to tell you.”

  The vast wasteland of the underworld lies in front of me and sucks all the joy out of me. It makes me feel like the Grinch minus Christmas. All I need is a village full of tiny people with sloped button noses and oblong hairstyles to terrorize. Stay or go. Stay or go. If I stay down here with Hades I’ll consumed by an eternity of dull, drab grey skies, thick smog, and sadness. There is nothing happy or joyous about death. It may put an end to a person’s suffering especially if they have a fatal disease, but what if they didn’t lead a good life? They’d suffer during their life and they’d suffer forever after they died. And what if I have to aid Hades in giving them their final judgment? I’m not sure if I can handle that.

  There is still a part of me that wants to stay. I glimpse at Hades next to me and a small smile curls on his plush lips. My insides crack and fizzle like I’ve just swallowed a mouthful of pop rocks. The affection I feel for him grows as each day passes and he’s the only reason I’d consider staying. And I don’t know if that’s a good enough reason.

  “Come here,” he says softly.

  I creep closer like a starfish on a sandy beach being lured back into the ocean by the tide. Hades is the water and as soon as he touches me my tentacles will come alive. I want to be suctioned to him, to latch on to him as long as I have to. He pulls me close and I inhale his musky scent. A smell that I hope I’ll never forget; whether I stay or go. He covers me with his arms. I feel warm. He’s my down comforter. He’ll never let me freeze. “Close your eyes,” he tells me.

  Time whirls around us. We’re in the middle of a cyclone. Spinning in circles and despite the dangerous situation I know I’ll be safe. He will always keep me safe. He clutches me tighter to his chest, the muscles in his arms clench and for a brief moment I feel like I belong here. Wrapped up in a tangle of his limbs for all of eternity.

  Then he releases me and part of me aches. I ache in spots where his fingers just were. The spots throb like fresh bruises and won’t quit until he puts pressure on them. Rushing water whooshes and fills my ears and I spin around thinking he might have brought me
to a beach or something. Depression sails through me like a Jet Ski bouncing around on waves when I realize we’re back at the dock on the Styx.

  The brownish green water splashes against the dock and I center on fog that hovers above the water. Hades senses that I might be upset and brushes his fingers against my face. “You look upset,” he says in a voice full of gentleness. “Is something bothering you?”

  I can’t understand why his touch feels cold yet warm at the same time. “Is it always so bleak and depressing down here?”

  “You get used to it.”

  I feel like I’m glancing at plains of misery, an up close and personal version of what death is supposed to look like. “I don’t think I could ever get used to this,” I say. “I’d miss the sunshine too much. I’d miss watching things live.”