by E. B. Black
She opened her eyes to see a young man wading through the water.
"I swear I didn't steal it!" He winced as red gashes ripped across his back one at a time. "Don't hurt me!" In the water, she could see him being whipped. The mushy mud slowed his movements as he wrestled through it. He must have been a slave who had been beaten many times.
This was the river of suffering. It made everyone face the pain of their past. The Acheron showed the pain of the world, but this river was more personal.
Not being able to take anymore, Medusa sped up to the next one. The Phlegethon River was orange and the waves thrashed about so wildly that it looked like fire. The temperature in the area rose. Men and women, bruised and crying from being beaten down by life, passed through it. Their pain melted until they were young and smiling again on the other side. They glowed like newborn spirits.
Most of the ghosts hesitated before walking through. They didn't know the peace that lay for them on the other side and they were still weary after the previous stream.
The nymphs liked to scare them. The thin creatures, who looked like elves with snow-white skin and orange hair, would jump into the middle of the flames and scream and writhe as if they were dying a slow death. The other nymphs would giggle at the ghosts' horrified expressions.
Ahead was a beautiful spring called the Lethe. It flowed down from a waterfall and tiny rainbows sparkled across the top of it. To pass through it, the ghosts were forced to bend and drink from the shiny stream. Their eyes would glaze over as memories popped out from behind their head and followed them like ghostly white balloons. The echoes of their sins moved and breathed as they followed them. Eventually, they'd forget all of them.
Medusa landed by this stream. Her stomach filled with butterflies as she imagined taking a sip of it and forgetting the horror of her life. Of course, even if she erased her memories, the pain wouldn't end for her as long as she was stuck in this body.
She still had the necklace Cithara had given her-the one thing she had been wearing when she transformed that she managed not to break. She opened it and the smell of roses greeted her. As much as she enjoyed the scent, she wouldn't need perfume any time soon. She dumped it on the dirt next to her and dipped the vial into the Lethe.
She held up the glass and licked her lips. If only she could drink it. It gave her hope that maybe someday she could move on. She fastened the necklace around her neck again.
The next river was the largest of all. It wrapped around the underworld seven times and was named the Styx. Large alligators with sores on their bodies that resembled tumors would burst from the water and suddenly swallow a creature nearby. Hecate was forced to guide ghosts in parties across the river safely. Medusa shivered as she realized that even though Hecate was always here, she was also out on the Kisthene Plains preventing creatures like the Gorgons from escaping to the Earth at the same time. She held the key in her hands. Medusa rushed on. She remembered what that key could do.
At the end of the river Styx sat Cerberus, the three-headed hound. He panted at ghosts who walked by and licked the hands of Hecate, but whenever he saw Medusa's shadow, all three of his heads would snarl. He was huge, taller than two men, and could jump so high that he'd nip at Medusa's feet while she flew over. He was annoying, but because he was a dog, Medusa refused to turn him into stone and always looked away. The only time he didn't attack was when his eyes were closed because Hecate was stroking him. He'd kick his feet and whimper as she scratched behind all six of his ears.
Across the river stood the palace of Hades. Larger than any of the temples Medusa had seen in Athens, it was made of dark glass and arranged to look like thousands of stalagmites clumped together. Medusa could see everything that happened inside, but it was through a tinted lens. It made the actions of Hades seem darker. It also allowed him to keep his eye on everything that happened in his kingdom at all times.
In front of the palace sat three roads. The first led to the Elysian Fields where heroes spent an eternity in paradise. The second led to a purgatory in the Asphodel Meadows where most souls travel to and were reincarnated. The third was the path to Tartarus, where only the evil ghosts and Titans dwelled and were tormented by Orcus.
Near the three roads, in front of the entrance to the castle, were the judges. They wore robes that covered every inch of their skin. Medusa wouldn't have known who they were if she hadn't heard the tales of Minos, Rhadamanthys, and Aeacus. She couldn't see their faces, but she shivered from the coldness radiating from them. Every soul lined up in front of them and when they approached the table, they handed Minos their memories. The three men removed their hoods and closed their eyes. They breathed the information in. The words that told the stories of their memories scrolled across each page of a thick book in front of them so quickly it was like a wind was blowing them.
Medusa glimpsed some of the scenes as they breathed them in. They belonged to a cross-eyed man with gangly limbs. Several of them were the same. He was alone in a room with a child. He had lured the child inside with sweet rolls or promises of playing with a kitten. None of these things were in his bedroom. By the time the children realized this, he had already begun to undress them. As the rest of the scene unfolded, Medusa's jaw clenched. It was one thing for Poseidon to rape her, a grown woman, but another thing entirely for this man to make a victim of children. She would have killed him if he wasn't already dead.
They opened their eyes once they had made their decision. Their eyes glowed red to indicate which destination he'd be traveling to. The man screamed. "No! Please, no!"
But his victims had begged him to stop, too, and just like with them, his pleas were falling on deaf ears.
A band of women flew down and grabbed him by each arm. The women were naked, with wings that covered their bodies once they landed. They had talons instead of feet and feathers covering the lower half of their body. Bloody fangs, too large to fit their mouths, laughed as they carried him.
Medusa followed as they traveled down to Tartarus. The gods hated her, so this was probably where she'd wind up someday. She heard a sound, like a water fall, echoing through the cavern-it was painful to her ears. She realized that it was a rushing wave of screams as Orcus' whip cracked across backs and thighs. Their chains clanged as they struggled to escape. Medusa covered her ears and fled in the opposite direction before she saw anything.
Orcus was always covered in blood and bits of pink and gray human matter whenever he arrived at Hades' palace. It got stuck in his thick body hair, making her doubt that he ever showered. His gaze burned. He was the only god who dared to look at her and she always turned away when he did. His eyes would be so rounded that they looked like they'd pop out of their sockets. Her memories of him were mostly of the flapping of his large bat wings.
She could spy on the rest of the gods and they'd carry on as if she was never there. All except him. He was eager to punish her someday.
Hades sat on his throne a lot. He didn't do much, except sneer at people and tell them what to do. He also liked to slick back his greasy, black hair and gaze at his gaunt face in the mirror.
His throne was made of skulls and bones, encased in silver. Medusa flew inside the castle and hovered near the ceiling. She loved how high it was.
"You take a sip first." Hades sloshed the silver goblet of wine all over the ground as he shouted at Persephone. "Or I won't drink it at all!"
Persephone crossed her arms. She was as intimidating as a withered flower. Her hair hung limply on her head in the underworld. The flowers that grew in a trail behind her as she walked, turned brown in seconds. Her blue eyes were dulled and her movements weak. Everyone could see that she missed her mother.
She sat on a throne made of skulls and roses, encased in silver as well.
"But I fermented it myself," she said.
He threw it at her, spilling the purple liquid all over her body. "That's exactly why I can't trust it. Do you know how many times I've been poisoned?"
Persephone leaped from her seat. She wore a light gray gown that was now ruined. She looked down at herself and glared at him. "Maybe people wouldn't try to hurt you so much if you'd stop acting like a prick."
"I am this way because everyone wants my power! I can't trust anyone, least of all you. Last time my drink was poisoned, a man used Lethe water to make me forget who I was. The underworld was thrown into chaos and the Helm of Darkness was stolen."
The underworld had done fine without him. The Stygian nymphs were behind the attack. They helped a ghost get across the Acheron River in exchange for tricking Hades to drink the water. They were the ones who stole the invisibility helmet and they used it to fly unnoticed past the monsters that lived in the Styx. They claimed to fly up to Hades on occasion and make faces at him that he knew nothing about. They once rearranged Hades' furniture and giggled about it for days while he paced back and forth, ranting about a conspiracy.
Orcus approached Persephone. As usual, he wore only blood and leather. "You look upset, Your Highness. Why don't you sit down?" He gestured to her throne and handed her a towel.
She glared at him as she took her chair. "What do you want?"
"Just to serve you, my queen," he said, lifting a silver platter. "I thought you might be hungry." Inside was a plate filled with pomegranate seeds.
Hades laughed hysterically as Persephone's face fell. He hardly let her eat anything but pomegranate seeds.
The food represented her imprisonment. Once, she had been free to live with her mother, the Goddess of the Harvest, on Earth. She loved to dance through the flowers and help the crops grow, but then she had been invited into the underworld, not knowing that if she ate or drank anything she'd be trapped there forever. She took just a few pomegranate seeds–they weren't even as good as the ones she enjoyed on Earth. Because of it, she was forced to spend most of her time in the underworld, married to Hades, and rarely got to visit her mother.
Hades forced the food into her mouth. "Eat! Eat!"
She spat the seeds on the ground.
"You don't like being forced to eat or drink things either, do you? Now you know how I feel when you try to make me drink your wine."
Persephone spat in Orcus' face. She didn't dare to make a move against her husband.
Orcus grabbed her by the throat, lifting her several feet off the ground as he choked her. She pounded her fists against his chest. The veins in his forehead throbbed as a grin spread across his face.
Persephone was turning blue. Hades grabbed Orcus by the hair on his head and slammed his head backwards against the wall. He dropped Persephone as his eyes rolled backwards.
"Don't touch my wife." Hades voice was low and gravelly. "If she is to have a bruise, they will only be given by me. Isn't that right, dear?"
He turned towards Persephone, who fondled her throat and nodded meekly.
Orcus clutched his head as he recovered. "Furies! Come here at once!"
The half-bird, half human women she had seen earlier landed in front of him. Their wings were stained red and black. They carried a man in their mouth. They ripped pieces of his flesh apart and swallowed it. As they pulled off each one, they shook their heads, splattering blood and muscle tissue everywhere. The man squealed like a pig.
Orcus' grin grew goofy. "Aw, did you bring that murderer just for me?"
They shrieked. They sounded neither like a human nor a bird-it was more a symphony of cats being skinned.
"Put the murderer down," Orcus commanded.
They dropped their meal.
"Now, carry me back down to Tartarus."
Hades' lips twitched and the Furies froze. "You will not leave this mess inside my castle."
The chunk of person on the wall made it look as if it had been painted in polka dots.
A man flew into the room. His black wings folded onto his back. "I can clean it up for you."
He had a grin on his face and an intense look in his eye. In one hand, he held a sword. In the other, he carried a long braid that he caressed against his cheek and kissed lightly. Across Thanatos' body sat butterflies, but they were withered like a spider that had stayed in one place for too long on a wall. They fluttered their wings slowly as he moved.
"Go ahead," Hades said.
Thanatos bent over the dying man, growing visibly aroused as he stared into his wide eyes. He cut off a lock of his long hair with the sword, while the man continued to scream and beg for mercy. He caressed the human's cheek gently and his face froze, his eyes going glassy. Thanatos sniffed the lock of hair and a moan shuddered through him.
"Nothing is more beautiful than watching a creature take its last breath." He lifted the man in his arms as if he was a baby and rocked him back and forth as he stroked his hair.
Hecate entered after him. "You call that cleaning?" When she spoke, her three voices echoed everywhere in unison. "You killed him, yes, with your death touch, but you haven't actually cleaned up anything."
Thanatos glared at her. "Do not come in here and interrupt something as holy as death!"
Cerberus stood behind Hecate. He snarled at Thanatos.
"Stupid dog!" Thanatos kicked him and raised his foot again as the dog whimpered.
"Stop!" Hades yelled.
Thanatos obeyed.
"You're not allowed to kill the king's dog," Hecate said. "No matter how much he pisses you off. Now, let me show you how the cleaning is truly done."
Her spirit dogs were following her as well. They, along with Cerberus, licked the man's remains off the walls and floor. They also licked the faces of the Furies who growled and nipped.
"My most responsible subject is a Titan," Hades said. "Who would have thought that was possible?"
Hecate was one of the few Titans that hadn't been imprisoned in Tartarus. In fact, Hades trusted her so much, he allowed her to roam the entire underworld freely. She stuck her nose in the air and smirked at Thanatos. He tensed, his muscles readying to charge.
"Be calm, brother." A man with large droopy eyelids and rings under his eyes entered into the room. His voice was so quiet, it was barely above a whisper. Medusa was surprised any of them could hear him at all.
"This doesn't concern you, Hypnos," Thanatos said.
"Everything my brother does concerns me," Hypnos replied. "My touch brings sleep, which is why so many welcome me into their homes, but yours brings death. People are frightened by what your powers can do, which is why they misunderstand you. Don't let it get to you."
Thanatos was usually treated like the freak of the underworld because of his hair fetish. He cut the hair from all his victims and kept it with him in a giant braid, flung over his shoulder. He masturbated using it. He made quick work, cutting a chunk from the man.
Hypnos was Medusa's favorite deity. He was the only one who seemed to care for anyone but himself.
He walked to Persephone. He picked up the plate of pomegranate seeds that had fallen on the ground and offered them to Persephone. "Why aren't you eating?" He wasn't mocking her. He knew this was the only thing Hades would allow her to eat when he was angry and he was always concerned about how slender she was.
She turned her nose up at his offer. He sighed. "All of you are so worried about making the castle neat and tidy, but who is going to pick up the pieces of the emotional trauma you cause?"
Hypnos could see into the subconscious and used it to help people deal with their problems. Medusa hated the dreams she would have on occasion about being turned into a monster, but knew that Hypnos only gave them to her so that she could move past it.
Hypnos stroked Persephone's arm and her eyelids grew heavy. His caress was usually light, but with Persephone it was administered with even more care. Everyone could see by the look on his face that he was madly in love with the queen.
"That's quite enough, Hypnos," Hades said. "The two of us were doing just fine before the rest of you interrupted our conversation."
Hypnos bowed. "You have my apologies."
Hades would la
ter take the queen to his bed, hopefully after she awoke. He'd make sure everyone was watching as he removed her clothes and entered her. They all needed to know who Persephone belonged to.
Few things were done in the shadows of the underworld because even in the dark, they were still being watched-Nyx watched everyone. Medusa could tell by the hints of the smile she saw in every blackened corner or when she felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck. She whirled around sometimes to catch a glimpse of her dark dress and pale skin melting back into the shadows. No one sought privacy because there was none to be had. She was the night and she was everywhere.
Hypnos didn't need to be reminded of who Persephone belonged to. He couldn't have a relationship at all because of his curse. Every time he touched someone, they fell asleep and couldn't return his caress.
Whenever Persephone first entered the underworld after each spring, her hair was bright with flowers. Her skin was the color of wheat and her eyes like violets, almost as if she had been harvested from the ground herself. Looking at her was painful after staring at the dreariness of the rest of the place, but it faded over time. She'd stop eating and succumb to depression.
Hypnos would kiss her to sleep when she was at her worst. She could never move her lips or return the sentiment and you could see the pain in his eyes because of this, but the fact that she was so miserable in the underworld hurt him much worse. He was nothing like Hades. If it had been up to him, even though he loved Persephone, he would rather her stay up on Earth with her mother than be tortured down here, even though it meant him never seeing her again. Medusa knew this because she heard him speak to his brother about it one day.
Instead, Persephone was forced into Hades' bed every night. Regardless of what some people believed, what he was doing to her was rape. If she had had any doubts, she wouldn't after she saw the dead look in Persephone's eyes every time Hades thrust into her. It was the same as her own when she had been raped by Poseidon and finally given up on the fight. It was the look someone got when they wanted whatever was happening to them to be done and over with.