My Marriage to the Lord of the Dead (M.M.L.D)[EDITING]

To the Underworld! (who calls it that?)

[EDITED]

So, we plunged into darkness. there was no visible floor, or roof, or anything like that. It was like hovering in a nothingness that lasted for what seemed like forever.

Maybe I should explain a bit clearer; he dragged through a solid wall. I didn't even fight back, which now, looking back, should've alerted me to the dangers. But then again, maybe I was in shock.

Currently I'm thinking,  I've been kidnapped by a psycho hypnotist! Or any other sensible explanation for these weird turn of events. After all, mythical things weren't real.

Was I dying?

Was this normal, and no one really talked about it, because it's a conspiracy?

Was I insane, and actually sitting in a cushioned room with a strait jacket on, babbling at a wall?

So, anyway, here I am, being led along like a zombie, (never, ever again) and suddenly I pop out into a bedroom fit for a queen with no taste at all. Some of it clashes. Like futuristic-meets-medieval, sometimes for good, sometimes for bad.

The fire in the fireplace was purple, completely unrealistic, and at the hearth... (I think is the word) was a girl that looked to be eight. I turned and not-so-Gothic guy was gone. Like he had never been there in the first place.

 "Hello." The girl said. "I'm Hestia, the goddess of the-" Her voice was soft, but that didn't stop me.

"Yes." I flapped a hand in front of her face. "Goddess of the hearth and home, you have no myths about you because you stay at home, hope dies at the hearth, blablabla. Oh, and you are delusional. I have read Percy Jackson, y'know."

"Wrong about the latter." A voice behind me said. She was...the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Why I can't look like that, or be born like that is beyond me. I couldn't pin an exact hair colour, because it seemed that she was moulding to my version of, well, attractive. In a woman. I wondered if everyone saw her differently, and if she ever got annoyed by this.

Oh, great, babbling in a book. I seriously have to stop doing that. I don't think it's very interesting.

"Welcome to the Underworld." The little girl, Hestia chirped. She seemed overly happy seeing as she had just announced I was pretty much dead.

"Wait," I said slowly, as the woman circled me like a shark stalking its prey in the water. It wasn't a good feeling-it felt like ice was being slid down my spine, making me resist a shudder.  "Is this like, Greek mythology? Because then you're all insane."

"Correct." Gothic-man said, appearing. Yes, appearing. No theatrics or anything, nothing like the movies.. He looked at the woman and said, "Dress her." Like he could just do what he wanted. Jerk.

"For what?" I exclaimed, brushing down my clothes hurriedly. It had gotten all wrinkled, and boy, did I like my clothes.

"Dinner." Hestia replied before stepping into the fire. The fire surged upwards, bathing the room in a a purple glow. The smoke sped towards the top, like she was it.

I shrieked like a banshee.

And promptly fainted.