Lords of the Underworld [malexmale]

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

The brothel removed Atros's body shortly after the discovery and buried him in a cemetery across the city. When I'd asked where his soul had gone, they said Hell. Atros worshipped Lucifer and thus his soul was sent there to join his wife in Sheol, the valley at the center of Hell reserved for regular worshippers of Lucifer.

I left the brothel to mourn and returned to my palace. It was cold and dark inside. The only sounds came from where the servants had their dinner in the servants quarters, their laughter and play echoing down the hallway to the throne room where I sat upon my throne and stared at the colorful plant life Persephone had adorned my throne room with.

I wasn't sure how to react. I kept searching for laughter, over the fact that for the first time in my life, instead of running away from me like Ambrosius had, someone actually killed themself to get away from me. Or maybe rage over the same fact. That I was repungent enough to make him kill himself as opposed to a relationship with me, Hades, Lord of the Underworld. Or maybe even sorrow over the fact that I'd tricked him and hurt him badly enough to commit suicide.

I didn't know what to do.

He said he loved me, didn't he? Why didn't he want to at least discuss it?

Because he hates Hades.

Atros hated me. He loathed me to the core of my blackened soul. Because of me, his beloved wife and son were killed. Because of a war I started, because I neglected to pay attention to my generals and what they did with their power. To make matters worse, the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was my fault his wife was forced to resort to suicide. It was my fault that Lucifer's son, Raven, had suffered untold horrors at the hand of my best general, who now rotted in the pits of Tartarus for his crimes. It was my fault that Ambrosius ran away. He was desperate to escape me because I was suffocating him. I was so afraid of him becoming like my other sons that I'd scared him away. It was my fault Theo slit his wrists. He'd grown up his entire life with pain and to live without it was no life at all.

All of it was my fault. I knew that. I've known that, but for some reason, this moment now it chose to come bashing me in the face. All it took was one stupid whore in a brothel to throw everything I'd ever done wrong in my face.

But you have the right to do what you did.

Demeter's voice rang in my ears no matter how much I covered them to try and block it out. Her voice was always there, because it was the only one that was there.

I found myself remembering the way I had stood trembling on that platform just outside of Olympus, blood caking my robes. Demeter stood beside me, reaching out to touch me, but I snatched myself back from her and glared at her.

"Don't fucking touch me." I'd snarled. Demeter nodded patiently, lowering her hand.

"I understand."

"No. No, you fucking don't."

"No, I understand that the last thing you need now is more people... But you have every right to be angry, Hades. You have ever right to do what you did."

"Then why do I still feel guilty?"

"Because you're better than them. You have a heart."

"I don't want it."

"You need it."

"I don't fucking need it. Take it away from me. Burn it, flush it, I don't care, get rid of it."

"No, Hades," Demeter said gently, moving closer to me and how I wanted to slap her back; I couldn't bring myself to do it as she took my hands in hers, then tilted her head up to look into my face, "Hate. Hate them with everything you have. Cling to that hatred and love it, cradle it. Don't give up because love gave up on you. Hate will never give up on you. Hate will always hold you."