Deliverance [malexmale]

Chapter Six

Did she honestly expect me to believe that horse shit? Make Hannibal fall in love with me? What, would she use one of Eros's bows to convert him? I'd seen Eros's magic fail time and time again, because it wasn't real love; it was forced lust. It was rape of the soul. I would never force Hannibal to love me. I would never force him to love one of the people who hurt him.

Because let's face it; I was just as fucking awful as Atlas, Prometheus, and Epimetheus. As awful as Iapetus and Clymene. What sort of sick bastard would I be to force Hannibal to love me when his heart was already with someone else?

"Fine," Rhea sneered when she realized there was no talking to me, "Then suffer in this hellhole. Iapetus was right about you; you're useless." I said nothing in response as she turned and swept from the cell, but not before replacing the electrified bars, and I burst out laughing at that. What was she trying to say? That I would never escape? I didn't want to. Was she trying to tell me she could control me now that I was her prisoner? That made me laugh even harder. She had no idea what she was up against. Hades had changed considerably since the first war. He no longer fought with hesitance and fear in his eyes. He no longer relied on his siblings for help.

Hades was a wrath all his own and his hatred for Rhea was a well tended seed that had become an entire forest. Rhea was about to find out how truly stupid she was, and I would laugh from my hellhole as Hades ripped her cold black heart from her chest. More laughter exploded from me as I slammed my forehead against the wall.

Stupid bitch. May Hades have mercy on your black heart, and rid the world of your putrid existence.

And not long after their escape did all the Titans return to their previous prisons, now heavily improved to keep them from further escapes, not that they wanted to anymore. After word had spread that Rhea and Cronus had been killed, the other Titans quickly submitted to their damnation in silence. Torture was much better than ceasing to exist, and much better than dying at the hands of one of the most powerful Olympians to have existed. Zeus may be King, but Hades was a whole new kind of god. It was Hades's humble acceptance of fate and peacekeeping ways, as well as his strange submission to Zeus, that kept Hades from taking over the Greek pantheon.

It was a pity, really.

I'd heard that even other pantheons wanted the god of the underworld to rule the pantheon. At least then the Greek pantheon would have an intelligent leader, rather than a selfish one.

Then again, Hades probably wouldn't be Hades if he had taken the throne all those centuries ago. It was our suffering and our hardships that shaped who we were and it had molded Hades into a relatively good person. At least, where others were concerned. Where Hades's children and lover were concerned. The rest of us were fodder.

And right now, I loathed the god for sending his bastard son in to watch me sit in my memory of that cell in Tartarus.

"I know you're there, little bastard god," I said, not turning to face the electrified bars. There was the sound of shoes scraping on rocks and I smirked, cocking my head before turning to see Hades's son standing on the other side of the bars with a frown. He was almost the spitting image of Hades; long straight black hair that he kept brushed to the side of his face, a face that was so typically Greek it was painful. His eyes were an eerie shade of blue with black sclera. He wore no shirt, just gold snake armbands and leather pants.

"Something happened to you," he said, his Greek accent thick. I narrowed my eyes at him, then turned back to the corner of my cell, tightening my arms around my knees.

"Yeah, it's called alcohol, kid. Did I scare you?"

"Not yesterday," Malachi answered, then walked through the bars as if they weren't there, "Something was wrong with you last night. You were asleep, but... then you weren't. I was forced out of your subconscious." I rolled my eyes.