“A feast of riches, a feast of peace,” Braedyn muttered aloud, “Follow the onyx trek to the Forest O Hyv, and chant the words of my kith and kin. I wish to know you. Hades.”

Hades? The lass surveyed the clock dangling upon the wall. It was an hour after midnight before she had received the email regarded as dire. It was with great concern she had presumed the message was from a boss, but upon whispering the God’s name, it was clear this was all a hoax.

“I hope.” Braedyn shut the lid of the laptop and sagged upon the edge of the bed. What had the missive meant by enchanting the phrase of kith and kin? And if the sentiment had so happened to depart her tongue, what would flare to life there after?

With a sigh, she collapsed backwards on the pillow and shut her eyes. Ever since her grandmother, Ester, had graced Braedyn with the gift of that golden bracelet, she had been receiving and witnessing grotesque images.

The murder of crows tarrying behind her after a shift of work, the youth bellowing at her in a strange tongue, and the neighbours migrating streets because they were hearing things. Perhaps she should burn the jewel.

“I wouldn’t.”

Braedyn shot up, her heart leaping within her chest. Upon the windowsill was a raven, galloping jovially with its wings brandishing about.

“I wouldn’t,” it squawked. “I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t.”

Me: “So, uh…Hades! Y-You’re really him! C-Cool” Tries to scoot away from him

Hades: “Of course it’s cool! I’m the god of darkness or death or whatever!” Pulls me back over to him

Me: “O-Okay! Nice! Oh, is that really the time? I really need to get going!” *Chuckles awkwardly *

Hades: “Oh, c’mon! Let’s do something fun!” Pats me on the back as I squeal in terror

Me: “Uh, o-okay! How about an interview?” Trying not to aggravate him

Hades: “Sure, buddy!” Laughs deviously

Me: “Who’s your dad?” Forcing a smile

Hades: “I don’t talk about that.” Gets all serious all of the sudden

Hades: “I have a surprise, buddy! You’re trapped here forever!” I scream

The End

I held my breath as I clicked the button. I sent in some saliva in a glass tube to a company that analyzed your DNA, and finally, the results were in. Hopefully, this website would reveal some insight into who I was and where I came from. I sat on my bed with the little laptop, praying this would reveal something about my blood relatives.

It was hard being adopted. I always stuck out in family photos with jet-black hair and a pointed nose. My family, my loving adopted family, raised me from infancy. I couldn't have asked for anything more because they treated me like one of their own. Except, I wanted to know who I was deep down. Whose blood ran through my veins?

The website refreshed. I knew what to expect - or rather, I thought I knew what to expect. One of my friends had done this a couple of months ago. Once you clicked the button, a map of the world appeared, highlighting all of the areas your ancestors came from. It broke down your bloodline from countries and regions across the globe.

When mine appeared, my stomach dropped. The map of the world appeared with big bold letters that read 'UNKNOWN ORIGINS'. I threw my arms up in frustration and tried again. Same result.

Again. Same result. Maybe if I logged out and back in...

Same result.

I took a breath and realized it was probably a website error or something. I found the troubleshooting contact information and dialed the number. The line rang, and a female answered, "Hello, this is Me&23 DNA, this is Melissa. How can I help you today?"

"Yeah, hi. I just got my results back, and the website says it can't find my results or something."

There was a pause. "Have you tried logging out and back into the website?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Is there an error message when you try to access the information?"

"Yes, the message reads 'Unknown Origins'."

A longer pause. A long pause so long that I thought the line had disconnected.

"Uh...Give me a moment. I need to contact my boss."

The line went dead. I looked at my phone and tried to dial the number back. Perhaps the woman hit the wrong button. A busy signal.

I sighed. Maybe I was never meant to know who my family was.

My phone rang again. "Hello?" I was praying it was the woman from before, but this time, it was a man's gravely voice.

"Hello," said the voice. "Is this [INSERT YOUR NAME HERE]"?

"Yes, who is this?"

"Listen, this would be easier to explain in person. Come down into my office, and I can explain."

"What? Office? I think you have the wrong number mister."

Just then, on the opposite end of the wall, a portal opened up. It was blue and black swirled, and evoked a sense of calm. "I don't have the wrong number. You're my son/daughter, [INSERT YOUR NAME HERE]."

"W-what did you say your name was," I whispered into the phone.

"Hades, the Lord of the Underworld."

////

Author's note: Found this in my drafts from a year ago. Don't know if it's any good, but I'm trying to clear out my drafts. I also don't remember what I originally called the teenager, so I used [insert your name here] blocks. Sorry. Hope you like it!

She glanced again at her cellphone, frowning. The date was certainly correct, no doubt about that. As for time, there was only twenty-three minutes until then. The place… Well, that’s where things got a little fuzzy.

‘Just go to the oldest building in your current town; don’t worry about trespassing signs, you’ll be fine. Make sure you’re there within five minutes of your assigned time, or you’ll miss it. Best not to keep the Lord of the Underworld waiting!’

After many hours of frantic googling, Elly had finally narrowed her search down to one of two places. Both were built in 1896, though it was unclear which had been first. Fortunately, the two were right next to each other; only a foot or two between them.

The invitation came to you in the beak of a crow. The envelope was heavy and cream and busted in blood red lettering was your name. You open it and outfalls a card and two gold coins. The card says in bright, happy letters:

“You are cordially invited to Hades’ first birthday.”

When you arrive at the party, you are greeted at the door by Eurydice. She smiles shyly and tales your coat. You feel silly for wearing a coat to Hell.

Eurydice hands you a black and silver party hat and ushers you into the festivities.

“Oh, you made it! I’m so glad!” Hades breaks away from a conversation with a Satyr and glides over to greet you. He towers over every other guest in the party and you think to yourself “Lifts.” You’re anxious and you get catty when you’re anxious.

You bow. He is a king after all.

Hades thinks it was super weird but he knows you’ve never been here before.

“I was worried you wouldnt come! I love your podcast,” He gushes. “I wasn’t really into true crime before - I mean I know some of those guys - but boy do you know how to weave a tale!”

You are not good at taking compliments, so you smile politely and say “Happy Birthday. I see you’re turning…one?”

“It’s my first birthday ever! I was born and devoured by my father before time technically ever existed so I never knew when my birthday was and then I thought ‘Why not just pick a day?’ So I picked today! And I invited everyone that I thought was cool!”

“Oh, wow, I’m honored.”

“But seriously, how do you do it? How do you engage with death with such pizzazz? Doesnt it bum you out?” he asks while pouring you a glass of mysterious brownish-pink liquid.

You hesitate to take it and he laughs. “It’s just jungle juice for the mortals. Don’t worry. I wouldnt pull the same trick twice.”

You take a sip and feel warthm envelop your body. “I guess I just view death as a natural part of life, even if it’s caused by unnatural forces. I mean we do things that could kill us all the time: drinking, flying, fighting. Being afraid of death is kind of like being afraid of life.”

“Being afraid of death is like being afraid of life”, he repeats slowly. Then, he claps and says “Ha, how novel!”

The letter came in the post in sunday. I heavy cream envelope sealed with golden wax. Still hot to the touch.

In it, leaden black script, which read

You are crdially invited to attend a salon hosted by his majesty Hades in the depths of the underworld. The attire is cocktail.

On the day of the salon, a map appears in the post. The map leads to a river, on too of which bobs a boat. You surrender the two golden couns that arrived with the invitation to a mysterious gondolier and precariously step into the water vehicle.

Time folds in on itself as you drift down the Styx. You are oblivious to the change in your surroundings. Suddenly wherw you are is oitch black, the only break being the reflection of light from an unidentified source against the obsidian walls.

A hand reaches toward you from the darkness and behind it emanates a voice.

“We’ve been waiting for you”

A letter arrived this morning, and I already don't want to open the shit. At 6 am, the doorbell rang, which sounded like an exploding bell jar. The noise awakened me from a luxurious sex dream that found me at a tarted-up swinger penthouse on the Upper East Side in NYC. My toes were being sucked by a dreamy chocolate man, complete with a full beard, hulking-prison muscles, and tattoos. As I was about to climax, the sound of planes falling from the sky jolted me awake.

Frantic and glistening with a thin sheet of sweat, I high-tailed to my front door. As the door swung open, Marcleese, an Ogar with a lazy eye and an unreasonable amount of body hair, was standing in my doorway with his enormous mouth agape. He's an aqatiuneces from my nights of partying in the underworld, and only one entity could have sent him here. With his big, clunky arms outstretched, he presents a red envelope with crimson embossed letters that said, for Shay.

Who’s this from, or do I even need to guess? I asked with a hint of bitchy cunt in my voice. There’s nothing more infuriating than NOT getting off in a sex dream, and I wanted to pick up where I left off.

Victor, he said.

Do you mean Hades? Of course, that dramatic bitch would send an invite during an erotic dream. About 200 years ago, we had a tumultuous affair that ended badly, but what should I expect from a God? Lousy. Mother fuckers, the lot of them.

Then the smell of garbage water hit my nose. And before I could bitch about the stench, Marcleese disappeared in a cloud of scented vapour. Fucken Dick, I shout, slamming the door.

What is this about the invite? I think to myself, kind of laughing and slightly terrified. Not bothering to find my envelope opener, I slide my raspberry blue fingernail across the sealed letter.

Upon opening the letter, lilac petals and butterflies erupt from the envelope. What in the HELL, I murmur. With a deep sigh, I prepare myself for the bullshit that I’m about to read.

Dear Shay,

I hope this letter finds you well. It’s been many years since I have seen you and I love to catch up. We just got a Sardees and Apples Bees in the third rung of Hell, and let me tell you, I live for the quesadilla burger. Last weekend, I was a Grotto 666, and they added this to die for Squid the Dragon livers, and I thought of you and all our food adventures. None of my concubines or prisoners enjoy fine food, and I often dine alone. Then this thought: Shay would love this, but I would not be truthful because that was not my first time thinking that thought. I would love a dinner date. I know things ended badly— I really fucked up. I know we had hook-up rules, and I broke them over and over again. Time has changed me, and I learned that the best advisors did not surround me. If you like, they opened a Unicorn BBQ in Purgatory 5, and I would love it if you could come—no pressure, of course, but just a little. Please let me know soon because the host is a grade-a-prick from Des Moines, Iowa.

With Love Victor

He had been expecting it. Guy knew that he would get summoned sooner rather than later. He wasn't disappointed or anxious about it. If anything, he was excited.

Guy was bored. Once you go over the whole shock and awe of it all, Hell was a pretty dull place. It wasn't everything that the hype had been setting up.

True, his circumstances were different than most. Most people got booked on the cruise over the Styx without much second-guessing. They were along for the ride. Guy had accompanied Angel. Always the supportive boyfriend.

He thought maybe she had brought him along to her hometown, so to speak, to discourage him from continuing their relationship—the trip home to meet Dad. She’d show him around her old haunts and introduce him to people and things he couldn’t possibly remember. Then, they would head back with questions and uncertainties. They would break up. He would go on to a lovely new girl and complain about how hard it had been to be in love with The Angel of Death.

He wasn't having it. He wasn't that easy to shake off.

So she had apparently tried another ploy: parking him alone in the room while she went off to workshops and seminars and caught up on endless work-related stuff. And Guy was left behind to be bored.

So a summons from Hades was perfect—time to shake things up.

“He's a tall, thin bastard,” Guy thought. He was ushered into the throne room, where he was studied in absolute silence for a long time. He waited.

"So you're the one," the Old Man said after a time. Guy nodded and stepped forward to offer a hand that wasn't received.

"I'm Guy."

More silence. Just those cold, dark eyes. Staring at Guy.

"You have a nice place here," Guy said looking around. "Very spacious."

"You know how it goes," Hades said. "You have to have room. Everyone is dying to get in."

Guy snorted. "I see what you did there. That's a dad joke."

With that, the Old Mand slapped his knee. The halls reverberated with a deep, dark laughter, which Guy found infectious. He liked this Old Man.

Lissa stares at the letter in her hand. This has to be a joke, right? As if Hades actually exists… Whatever! Whoever decided to do this prank did put a lot of effort into it. The envelope is a nice, dark blue color with an almost eerily glowing red wax seal. The writing of the letter is a really nice cursive. Like, founding father kind of cursive! The letters are so loopy that it took multiple minutes for Lissa to finally figure out what the fuck it’s saying.

Lissa lays down the envelope on her desk as she rubs her eyes. “Maybe I’m just imagining things! I haven’t slept in two days, so that must be it! Hallucinations!” She throws her hands up in the air before standing up and literally throwing herself on her bed. “This is a problem for future me.” She lets out a yawn before succumbing to the pull of her soft bed.

…

Until Lissa is woken up by a bang. Her apartment shook, causing her to fall out of her bed and land on the ground with a loud thud. “Fuck!” Before her stands a tall, imposing figure clad in a dark cloak. She stares at it dumbfounded.

“Mortal…” The figure breathes out. The voice sounds raspy and sends shivers down Lissa’s spine. A pale hand with very long fingers snakes out of the cloak.

Lissa screeches. “Stay away you creepy motherfucker!”

Spring time is over Time to head home To the burning pit Of hell

I’ll spend the rest of my days With him I’m sorry External drought