- Deep beneath the castle, set into the stone of what one would have imagined to be an outside wall, a strange pair of doors carved with a massive inscription bisecting the two sit, closed and apparently locked.
Yet there is something not quite right about these doors... they seem to shimmer and waver in the air, sometimes growing in size without seeming to move, sometimes shrinking... but always calling any soul close by on... beckoning them... persuading and cajoling them into opening them, just to peek inside...
On touching the doors, they would spring open, a fierce gust of cold air spiraling out around any person unfortunate enough to be stood before them, drawing them into the space, pulling them through the impossible entry way into the waiting dark beyond...
On arriving, the howling of the dead screams all around as the landscape beyond the portal becomes clear. A barren dune of black sand spreads down to a river below where a ferry waits, moored to the bank of the grey-black water. The far side of the river lies obscured in a dank mist eyes could not penetrate, but the howls and growls of the lands denizens are FAR more easily made out... At the waters edge, one is met by the eyes of an old ferryman, clad in robes of dismal grey.
The voice of the ferryman is akin to a hoarse whisper, but it holds dreadful power, enough to draw ones feet onwards of their own accord rather than conscious will. As soon as one steps forwards, the vortex to home would scream and howl shut, the opening winking out in a blast of wind strong enough to knock men from their feet.
The ferryman’s footprints lead away down the slope to the ferry where he awaits guests with the calm impatience of one whose life span is infinite.
“Here lie the souls of the dead, traveler. You will do well to sit and stay away from the water.” The ferryman hacks and spits over the edge of the boat, causing the light mist on the water to move aside for the briefest of moments. And for the slightest second, one could see the faces of the damned howling in pain beneath the waters surface...
Slowly, the boat would move across the water, obeying the ferryman's punt, until it noses into the far bank.
Stepping from the boat and onto the land, black scrubby grass meets the unwary travelers feet this time, though the soil underneath was still sandy and uncomfortable. Looking down the slope ahead, one would hear Charron slip away back across the water leaving only a shiver to pass down the spine. Faint sounds of heavy breathing and movement sounded further down the slope.
Stumbling forwards, feeling the way through the gloom until the mist of the river faded away to a roadway, one would be able to just make out gates in the distance. Yet one does not walk to the true gates to hell entirely unchallenged. Cerberus appears out of nowhere, bounding over the desolate ground with an ease born of extreme power.
“I am Cerberus, guardian of the kingdom of Hades. Brother of Chimera and Hydra. Turn back, thou who art still among the living.” All three heads speak at once, the acoustic effect confusing as each head had its own accent and inflection. This then was Cerberus… son of Echidna and Typhon. More than just a challenge. To those who would try to press further, the huge canine would have to be overcome, his brute strength backed up by uncanny speed and agility, as well as his flaming breath.
For those able to either best or evade the guardian, upon reaching the bottom of the hill one would look up and see the gates before them. Clearer now they were closer, the dark majesty the entrance to Hades home held nothing back. Tombstones surround the traveler on both sides of the path, the way ahead lined with effigies of death and despair. Over the top of the massive metal gates, a flaming demon of massive proportions leers down, brimstone and fire curling from its frenzied metal lips. Curves of spiked metal rolled in from either side like massive claws grasping at the air, luring one closer to the awe inspiring gates without one even realizing. Unconscious feet would stir up the light covering of ground mist with a hissing sound, as if the air itself was loathe to let any pass, but even the most strong minded would continue on, taken in my the burning gaze of the gates final guardian. The goat headed creature breaths out heavily through its nose, the burning air distracting, no traveler realizing his feet were headed for an oblivion they had not seen... Yet at the last moment, one MAY catch sight of a plaque as the demons eyes pulse and lure...
Number 1, Hell Drive.
Perhaps this vague attempt at humor would break the demons spell, and then one would suddenly come face to face with the fate that had almost overtaken them... Just in front of the gates, a deep but thin canyon runs across the path. The sides are close enough to jump over, but wide enough to swallow several men in a row. The depth is unfathomable, and no bottom could be seen, only spikes of rock jutting from the walls.
If managing to overcome this final obstacle, one may gracefully leap the canyon and approach the gates themselves, throwing a final gaze up at the burning brazier of the demons mouth over head. A pair of enormous eyes on the gates turn to glare at the successful traveler.. then blink closed and the gates slowly begin to open, light washing over the traveler with enough strength to make one turn aside and shield the eyes. When one looks back... Hades stands in the open gateway, light streaming around him, making him seem almost angelic, though the dark shadows make up his wings.
“Welcome.” His eyes flash red as he speaks. “Welcome to Hell.”
((A small Thank You to Roan DeSeer for the description.))
