A Chance in Hell by Gabbi Harrington

All animals in Greece find their own way to the Underworld. I don’t take care of them myself. The dead humans are my problem. The sad ones, the confused ones, the violent-beyond-belief ones. That’s my territory. I don’t make exceptions.

Well, one time, I did—just the one. And he was a worthy exception.

I was practically still a kid. Seventeen or so, I think. My father, Erebus, worked me to the bone in sparring matches. He wanted to make sure I could defend myself when it came time to collect the souls of the dead. I got good at it, but our lessons had an effect that at the time, I didn’t foresee:

The souls of the Underworld were all afraid of me.

Maybe it was the way my bones protruded against my skin that made them afraid. Or the way my three sets of dark wings shrouded my figure in feathers and danger. Perhaps it was my piercing violet eyes? Or maybe it was just my name.

The souls always fled when they heard my name: Thanatos.

It wasn’t much better above on the islands of Greece. The people didn’t know my name, but they hated the sight of my face. And the sight of their own. It was a strange thing to become a ghost and stare at your own corpse. What was worse was if you stuck around to watch them burn and bury you.

I once met a woman who died bringing a daughter into the world. The daughter was loud but healthy and alive. The mother was a noble, and she had an attitude as vile as her looks were pretty.

She scowled at me. Though for once, I wasn’t feared, I could still tell what she thought of me—monster.

“I’m not done with this life,” she said. “Put me back!”

“That’s not how this works. You’re dead.” I replied.

“Nonsense, I’m only twenty! Put me back now.”

I shook my head and pulled a pair of shackles off my belt. I didn’t like using them, but they were the only way to get the stubborn ones onto the ferry and down the River Styx.

She opened her mouth once again to protest, but all that came out was a scream. She kicked at the dry dirt in front of her and stumbled away. “Get rid of this deformed monster!”

The dust settled, and a small pup the size of my hand shivered with fear. Its form was hollow—dead, like the woman in front of me.

“You’re afraid of a pup?”

“That’s no pup, it’s a beast! Don’t you see its heads?”

I knelt down and stroked the pup’s back. One head popped up, whimpered, and met my gaze, then another, and another. It was a newborn, triplet pups conjoined at the shoulders. It was an awkward little thing, bobbling back and forth, trying to keep its footing, but too young and weak to do so.

I understood why it didn’t live long. The poor thing didn’t physically stand a chance. Most likely it died in the womb.

I stuck my finger near one of the pup’s heads and let it sniff me, though it seemed more interested in nibbling me in search of food. It hadn’t yet grown teeth, so I kept still and let it try. It’d figure out eventually that I couldn’t offer any milk.

“Four peas in a pod, aren’t you?” The woman huffed. “Disgusting.”

“We’re all headed to the same place. Like it or not, you’ll have to deal with me and the pup.” I stroked the nibbling pup’s head and got back to my feet, swinging the shackles around in my hand. “You can come with me willfully or I can chain you up. Your decision.”

She looked at me for a long time, studying my features. I put the shackles on her wrist before she could make up her mind. Humans like her always looked for another way out. Better not to take the chance.

“You—”

“Come along, now. I don’t have all day.” I scooped the three-headed pup into my arms and walked along a path out of town. The woman’s footsteps clued me in that she was following, though she could hardly refuse my request anymore.

We wove between workers and merchants and children—none of which could see us, all the way down by the nearby river. I stepped into the shallow water, allowing it to cool my worn feet. We followed it downstream and into a forest.

“We’re almost there,” I said. The woman had been muttering to herself low enough that she thought I couldn’t hear. She was getting antsy now.

“What kind of trick is this? I’ve walked this river bank a dozen times, there’s nothing here but a tiny cave.” She pointed ahead of us as if to illustrate her point.

She was right. The cave was quite small and likely only provided enough shelter for a small family of foxes. But it was exactly what I was looking for.

“Where a river meets a cave, an entrance to the Underworld can be made.” I got up close and extended one hand, stabilizing the pup in my other arm. It still whimpered in my grasp, but with any luck, I’d help it feel right at home.

Tendrils of black smoke slipped from my fingers and ran along the river toward the little cave. The smoke shrouded the cave’s entrance, and from behind, I heard the woman gasp. “Go on,” I said. “The ferryman awaits on the other side.”

She shook her head frantically, but she couldn’t stop her feet from taking her into the cave and disappearing in the dark shroud. I followed, stroking my fingers along the pup’s heads to keep it calm.

The chilly cave was huge on the other side and well-lit with torches along its walls. Not that it needed many of them. The River Styx glowed a misty cerulean, lighting the way to the Underworld.

“Onto the boat,” I commanded. “I’ll take those shackles off once we head downstream.” From then on, it would be her choice if she made it to the Underworld or not. My father was fond of pushing the violent ones into the river, left to drown and wallow in sorrow. I’d never gotten that angry, but I’d also never saved the ones that fell in.

The dock was empty today. My brother, Charon, rowed his long ferry upstream with help from the wading souls of the Styx. He tied the boat onto the dock and waved me on, but stopped the woman who was with me and held out a hand.

“Payment,” Charon said.

“What payment?” she asked.

“Check amongst your pockets. If your loved ones cared, they’d have put Obols in your pockets.”

I stroked the pup’s back and took a seat on the ferry. Its little tail wagged, and the right head nuzzled in close. I didn’t think I cared for animals much, but this one was different. People thought he was a little monster in the making. If he had lived, the humans would make theories for him:

“It was cursed by some god or goddess. There’s evil in it.”

“It was born of monsters and hidden amongst the hounds!”

“It’s vicious! It ate its siblings in the womb!”

Anything to justify their own hatred.

But when I looked at the little, three-headed pup, I saw innocence. Maybe it was a blessing that he never had the chance to grow up in the Greek world. There were real monsters in the hellish parts of the Underworld. He’d have a real chance down here. He wouldn’t be judged like those that already prowled in the dark.

The woman handed Charon two dull coins and finally stepped on the boat. Charon undocked and navigated downstream.

“Where did you find the little one?” Charon asked.

I briefly set down the pup and pulled out a key to retrieve my shackles. The boat rocked as I approached the woman.

“That little monster came out of my pregnant hound,” the woman huffed.

“And a child came out of you. Since you’re both here, I take it you’re both monsters.” I released her from her shackles and smirked. “Don’t make me regret this, beast.”

Charon chuckled.

“I’m not the monster with wings on his back. There better not be any of your sort in Elysium,” she scoffed.

“What makes you think that two coins will get you into Elysium?” Charon asked. Elysium was reserved for the wealthy and heroic. Although she was nobility in life, it was clear to see what her family thought she was worth in death.

I looked down, searching for the pup I’d left briefly unattended, but he was nowhere in sight. When I glanced back up, he was squirming in the woman’s grasp.

“I demand you take me to Elysium. I’ll throw this creature in the river if you don’t.”

Bold,” Charon said. “But not my problem.”

I’d slammed into her before I even realized I had. I knocked her to the edge of the boat and tried to pry the whimpering pup from her steel grasp. She kicked at me, and I kicked right back, holding her at the edge of the boat with my foot.

I reached for the pup, and she let him go. He dropped overboard, gone with the current.

I pulled the woman up by her collar and dunked her head into the river. Her screams were muffled by the cursed waters and the souls of those who’d once tumbled in themselves, pulled her in.

Perhaps I was angry enough to throw someone in, after all.

I sat back down in the boat and sighed, watching Charon row the boat. At least, I thought that’s what he was doing.

“Will you grab him off my oar before I lose my balance?” He asked, wobbling the oar in his hands.

I peered back over the boat. The oar was held against the ferry, a tiny, three-headed pup shaking on its flat. I jumped out of my seat, scooped him up, and held him close. “I’ve got you,” I whispered. “You’re not a monster.”

“Is that why you’re so fond of it?” Charon asked. “Do the humans hate him, too?”

“Not anymore. I won’t let them.”

I held the little thing close and scratched its belly. For the first time, I got a good look at his patterning. He was a black hound, save for a spot of white on his underbelly. He was Kerberos. Spotted. That wasn’t a bad name for him.

Cerberus.