The sound of the dead thundered his ears. He sat on his throne while the dead screamed and the rocks fell and crumpled into the lava that surrounded him. His fingers pressing into his temples, they pulsed with the stress of being who he was.
Hades.
King of the Underworld.
A job that was given to him by his brother Zeus, whose attitude often got him into more trouble and got him more bastards then his wife, Hera could handle.
"Hades?" He looked up to see Athena who was dressed in her grey robes that flowed behind her as she filling his doorway.
"What do you want Athena?" Hades asked as he rose to his full six feet and six inch height.
"Why are you so sad, Hades?" She asked as she walked closer. "Does the death of Persephone still haunt you?"
"What kind of question is that?!" He shouted at her making the Underworld quake. "Of course I miss her. I hurt every time I breathe in a scent that reminds me of her." Hades sat exhaust on his throne, and put his head in hands.
"That's not weakness Hades. It's called love."
He scoffed, "Love is for fools."
Athena smiled "Is that why you truly believe?"
"What else is there to believe?" Athena looked at Hades whose long hair hung past his shoulders. His long, lean body was covered in his robes, his broad shoulders were tense. He looked at her and his pale blue eyes were filed with sadness.
"Where is she, Athena?"
She sat down on Hades arm rest putting her hand on his shoulder blade. "She is a good woman. A goddess and I am afraid I don't know where she is. She was killed."
"Who would kill her?"
"You have many enemies Hades you are the only one who could answer that."
"I'll ask the Moirae."
She patted him on the back "Bring gifts."
"Thank you Athena."
She got up from the armrest, "No problem." Hades watched her walk out and left him to his thoughts.
His life and his entire immortality had died. He still remembers the day Persephone died in his arms. Her faces pale and yet oddly beautiful with blood that poured out of her mouth and whispered her love for him. She held his hand as her soul slipped out of her body. Hades a man known to be feared, strong and the devil himself cried as his wife died in his arms. Hades shook his head, trying to remove the memory of his wife's death from his mind; he decided that the only people who could answer his questions are the Moirae.
****
Mount Olympus beautiful home of the Gods except Hades, he was feared and unwanted. Yet he did the job no other God wanted. He walked into the home of the Moirae, it was white like every other, home on Olympus, but each had the different symbol of the Gods on its Corinthian column, the Moirae had wind chimes that always had captured the music in the winds. Once he was there the Moirae maids opened the doors that were solid gold. He entered, and there were the three sisters, known to be selfish, hateful, and heartless. Here they sat each on a lush couch and in white. Clotho sat looking down a thread of a woman who was happy and full of life play with her son. The Moirae who each loved, and felt more emotion more than any. They each suffered with every person who died by the cut of their scissors.
