Vampire Greek: The Burning King

Never had he felt so cold, so empty, and so dead. Roman woke up face down in sand. Coughing out smoke, he clutched his chest. The huge hole was gone. He also noticed his heart wasn’t beating anymore either. He hadn’t felt this human, this mortal, since he was attacked when he was seven. He was just as cold and alone then as he was now. At first glance, Roman assumed he was on some beach at night. It was dark everywhere, there was a big body of water to the left of him, and he could see nothing but sand for miles. But he looked closer and saw that the sand was gray. No, his eyes didn’t need adjusting, it wasn’t a trick of the light. the sand was actually gray. The sea was black and so were the trees on the other side of him. He rubbed his arms to warm himself up. Where was he?

“HADES!” shouted a voice behind him. “What am I supposed to do with this?!”

Roman turned and saw a gigantic man in a ragged cloak walking towards him. Behind him a bunch of shadowy people were huddled together, standing next to a boat, but none of them made any motion to get on it. The hooded man was old and wrinkled up like a raisin. His skin was gray but it also had a shadowy black tinge to it. He carried a staff slightly taller than he was, and he’s beard was spotted black and gray.

“Since when did you start sending people falling from the sky?” the old man grumbled.

“You don’t look Greek. What are you?”

“I… uh, I… I…” Roman couldn’t speak. He looked up at the man and also noticed the sky. It looked like they were trapped under the ice of a lake, but the ice was black and very dim lights shone through. He was at a loss for words.

“ANSWER ME!” the man demanded.

“Excuse me, but can we hurry please? I have got to see my husband.” An elderly looking shadowy had broken from the group to reach them. She too was trembling, whether it be from the cold or just plain fear, Roman couldn’t tell. The tall man turned around slowly, his fist clenched tighter on the staff.

“You better have a coin if you talking to me that way.” The tall man growled.

“Coin? What coin? Where was I supposed to get a coin?”

“Looks like you won’t be seeing your husband after all. You can’t ride my boat.”

“Oh no no no! Charon please? Have pity! Have mercy!”

“Don’t beg me for mercy.” Charon grunted. “Beg the souls of Acheron as they rip you apart after I leave.”

“No! You must take me!”

Charon pulled out an abnormally big hammer from his belt.

“I don’t say much twice.” he warned, and the hammer hummed with power.

Suddenly, a golden flash of sparkles appeared next to the group of shadowy people, forming a wide vertical circle. A man wearing golden armor stepped through it, followed by some normal looking people that turned shadowy as soon as they stepped all the way through.

“Hermes,” Charon grumbled. “They all better have coins.”

“They do.” Hermes replied as each one showed Charon a shiny silver object.

“Oh Mr.Hermes, please help me!” The lady cried. “I don’t have a coin!”

Hermes gazed at her curiously. “Mister? You’re new to this, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes!” she cried, kneeling at his feet. “It was my husband who was apart of this world-er, your culture. He passed before me but he introduced me to the Greek pantheon.”

“Hermes reached into his satchel and pulled out a coin, smiling. “You’d think he’d teach you the right way to speak to a god.” He handed the coin to Charon, who seemed content with the payment.

“What about that thing there?” Charon pointed behind him. “He fell from the damn sky.”

Hermes looked over at the frostbitten Roman and glared. “That is the creature I told you of. The one that murdered Eurus.”

“Oh is that so?!” Charon voiced changed, he sounded elated.

“What should I do with the god killer?”

“Whatever you wish.” Hermes started walking away, while his group huddled next to the others.

“He’s not Greek. He doesn’t deserve the fields of punishment. He doesn’t deserve to exist.”

Roman scrambled to his feet and ran in the opposite direction.

“THERE’S NOWHERE TO GO, KILLER!” Charon called after him. “This island has no end!”

Roman kept running as far as he could. His body was freezing and his feet ached, the sand was as cold as ice. Up ahead, he saw a group of people and a large boat.

“HEY! OVER HERE! HELP ME!”

A couple people turned around, and Roman stopped dead in his tracks. It was the same group as before. He looked behind him and there was no one in sight. Charon walked past the group of people and pulled out a long rope, creating a noose on one end.

“I told you before.” Charon started whistling. I don’t know where you thought you was going. He threw the rope and pulled it tight, catching Roman by the neck and forcing him to the ground.

“Okay Listen up! I’m only taking twenty. Figure it out amongst yourselves.” With Roman practically choked unconcious, Charon picked him up and slung him over his shoulder. Dropping him onto the boat, Charon raised his right hand and his staff extended, becoming a ferryman’s pole. With his other hand, he stood at the edge of his boat, helping the spirits aboard. Some were too busy fighting and didn’t notice when his boat was filled. They turned right as they boat took off, and one man ran to catch it.

“No! Take me! Please!

He made a big leap for the boat and almost made it, his hands gripping the stern. His body made a huge splash and everyone recoiled away from the water. The man screamed in agony and froze up, releasing the body. His body was stiff as a log as he sank beneath the water, making bubbles rise to the surface.

“Swim Up! Just Swim!” chanted everyone, the people on boat and at shore.

Charon smiled to himself and slowly steered them away. “What’s funny?” A man asked him. “There’s a little space left, we could have helped him aboard!”

Charon stopped rowing and pushed his way towards the other end of the boat. He raised his pole high before jabbing it down right over the bubbles. The bubbles stopped.

“His soul was forfeit the moment he touched the water. This is Acheron, children. The river of Pain. Touching it is very unwise. Saving someone, nigh impossible. Even I wouldn’t touch this foul water. You would be a damn fool to. That’s why this filth isn’t tied up,” Charon lifted the pole and walked back to his position, kicking Roman as he went.

“There’s nowhere for him to go.”

Everyone sat in silence as they drifted away from the shore. At the shoreline people were starting to walk away, off into nothing.

“They’ll walk the shores for a hundred years if they forget who they are. The quicker we go, the quicker I can return for them.”

They drifted along for an indefinite amount of time. Scared of the unknown and Charon himself, everyone chose to stay silent. The farther they went, the darker it was, and the darkened sky above seemed to fall down on them, making it feel a tiny space instead of a vast river.

Soon, Charon’s boat approached a landmass with huge cave like structures near the shore, each dimly lit a silver color.

“I’ll stop here. You should know which one to go to, it should beckon you to it. If you don’t like where you’ll end up you can travel with me to be judged.”

“Which one is which?” someone asked.

“I cannot tell you. Go or stay, but you will not waste my time.”

After a few worried glances the shadowy people got off the boat and headed toward the caves. Some huddled together and held hands while others walked alone, disappearing into the light as they stepped through the entrances. Roman stood up and tried to follow the others but Charon held him back.

“You aren’t going where they are.”