Tear in the Megaverse WATTPAD VERSION [Inter-Universal Protectors Series: 5]

8 - HELHEIM --> VANAHEIMR

Standing behind them was a massive wolf. Its eyes glowed a bright red. Its black fur was covered with bloodstains. Silver chains were wrapped around the wolf's neck, clinging and clacking with every move it made as it stalked around the pair. It growled, droll dripping from its mouth as it came forward. Hathor and Isaiah could do nothing as the beast looked them over. It leaned in, giving them a good sniff. Its eyes flared. The wolf howled.

Hathor and Isaiah broke free from their fear, scrambling away. The hound chased them, preparing to pounce, to kill—

It yelped, being pulled back by its chains and falling onto its hind legs. Isaiah, who the wolf had been reaching for, promptly fell onto his butt, the ground around him frosting. Hathor held her arms against her chest, trying to get her shaking under control. The damned wolf had tried to kill them! Did it know one of them was still alive or was it something else?

"Y-you know," Isaiah stuttered, "I once read that Hel's wolf, Garmr, o-often attacks Gods who enter Hel's realm."

"Really?" Hathor laughed nervously. "You, uh, think that applies to Demigods as well?"

"I . . . think that is a safe bet."

She laughed again. "Have I ever told you how glad I am you're a nerd?"

"Someone had to help Troy with his homework."

They both jumped as the wolf—Garmr—struggled against its—his—chains. He snapped his jaws at the pair, both moving away quickly. Seeing they were out of his reach, Garmr let out a low growl and sat, keeping his eyes firmly on the pair.

Hathor shivered. She didn't know if it was her fear, Isaiah's power, the realm, or a mix of all three. "We should leave."

"Yes," Isaiah agreed. "We should."

They glanced at the pathway behind them leading down to where people—no, spirits—roamed, the large black castle looming over everything.

"Soooo," Hathor started. "You think there's a chance Hel might help us or have any idea on how we can get back home?"

"The stories on her have never been clear," Isaiah said.

"Well, I guess there's only one way to find out."

* * * * * * * *

Spirits regarded the pair with curiosity as they made their way toward the castle. Visiters didn't often come to Helheim and, if the stories were anything to go off, visitors didn't exactly leave either. The walls around this world were huge, blocking the view of anything outside. A giant river ran in a circle around it—Isaiah and Hathor had travelled through a cavern under Gjoll instead of over the main bridge. It was another way to prevent spirits leaving before their time.

The world was dreary and depressing, but it strangely resembled the world above as it had been in the past. Spirits went about their business as they had in life. Helheim wasn't a bad place but it wasn't a good place either. It was just a place. A place with terrible weather, but a place none the less.

"Strange," Isaiah said. "The stories say this is a place of misery and torment. This place is actually quite calm."

Hathor hummed in thought. "I think I heard somewhere that the whole misery and torment thing came around later when Earth Christianity was becoming a thing in many realities. They needed a story to relate to or something, and the Norse mythos wasn't exactly known for fiery doom. This place is more . . ." She trailed off, thinking. "It's more life without the joy. Really, it looked the Humans got this place mixed up with somewhere else!"

"Agreed." Isaiah looked around. "I see no torture and torment. That sounds more like Nástrǫnd."

Hathor shivered. "Let's not go there."