Pomegranate Seeds Buried Deep In Hell.
Even Hell can be cold, when you’re all alone.
It wasn’t uncommon to see Gods and Goddesses become betrothed to one another, willingly or not. But there was none that caught the eye of Hadies, the men and women alike did not stir her heart, though some would argue she didn’t have one to stir. What morons. Of course she did, it ached from spending centuries upon centuries alone with the moaning souls of the dead.
The screams and sorrowful wails of the undead drove the goddess mad, forcing her to flee to clear her mind even if it was for a short while. Soaring through the bountiful land and skies her brothers and sisters oh so luckily got to claim eased her mind before turning bitter once more for, literally, getting the short end of the stick when they decided who ruled what.
Steering her chariot unseen by mankind, she overlooked the crops and small villages that thrived with the aide of Demeter. Though with closer inspection, something seemed off about the meadow in the far South. Driving closer and closer, her eyes unable to peel away from the beautiful form down below. When the horses grew close enough, she cloaked them well before cloaking her ownself with a mere mortal form so she could approach the human. Starring at the man who diligently collected the flowers into his basket, awaiting her chance to greet him. With luck, a flower fluttered out the basket thanks to the gentle breeze. Picking it up before the figure had a chance to react,
“I believe you dropped something.”
“Dropped something? Where?” The male asked curiously, looking up at the woman. Never in his life would he miss a mere flower, he was the one who would bring them back to life. Though he seemed like a lower planter, he was the son of the Goddess herself, Demeter. With a crown of flowers adorning his head he gave the woman a rather innocent look. She was beautiful beyond believe but he knew a Goddess when he saw one (he was a God himself). Kore walked around the blonde figure. What was it that was killing the ground she walked upon? What burned his nose and caused the nearby flowers to wilt? Only death could do that-- “Are you not Haides?”
