Persephone and Cerberus

Persephone and Cerberus

Kore smiled and reached out to pluck the flower, a sunny yellow narcissus, when, with a great ripping sound, the earth was sundered. Hades emerged and swept Kore up and into his chariot. He turned his horses, their hooves churning the earth, and disappeared back the way he had come. The torn ground closed behind them. Kore was gone.

*The thunder that followed her screams resounded through the skies and echoed across the land. Kore, fair of face and form; chaste daughter of Demeter, goddess of grain and harvest—whisked away in a lightning-swift moment by Hades, god of the underworld.

Kore struggled in Hades arms, to no avail. Exhausted, she collapsed against him, only to scream in terror once again at the sight of Cerberus. The immense, three-headed dog growled a greeting to his master. His slavering jaws dripped ropes of spittle as the heat of his breath rolled over them.

Hades drove on, descending further into the depths of the earth. At last, he reined in his horses, two mighty black steeds, red-eyed and nostrils flaring they reared, pawing the air. Clutching Kore to his side, Hades stepped from the chariot. She stumbled. He caught her. She beat feebly at his chest.

“Let me go,” she said, in a voice that held as much command as she could muster.

Hades deposited her into a large chair, then seated himself on the enormous ebony throne next to her.

Kore stared at him, eyes wide with shock. “What have you done? Why have you taken me? Do you know who I am? You must release me at once.”

The air around Hades shimmered, as if superheated. An orange glow drenched the air around them. His bare chest glistened with perspiration. On his head he wore a crown of metal spikes, like stalagmites, the tips pointed and wickedly sharp. He grasped ahold of his two-pronged scepter. Many moments passed before he spoke. “You are mine now. My bride. My queen. I choose you. Here you will remain and rule over all Hades with me. You are “Kore” no longer, but Persephone.”

“Persephone!” She leapt to her feet, trembling inside—fighting to hide it. She drew herself up, glaring daggers at him. “You’ve brought me to this place of doom. Stolen me from under the sun. Ripped me from the good earth like a flower for which you care naught. Return me! I demand it!”

Hades reached for her hand.

She snatched it away.

Hades leaned from his throne and plucked her from her spot. The belt of flowers she wore around her hips gave way and fell from her, wilted and brown before they hit the ground. He settled her onto his lap firmly, though not unkindly. “You are my queen. Here you shall remain. We will feast. You will eat. You will be…content…here.

Heat coruscated around him, yet when she placed her hand on his arm, she found it surprisingly cool. Tears welled in her eyes. She blinked them away. “Please,” she pleaded. I cannot stay here with you. I will die here.” She turned her gaze away and looked around. They sat in a great cavern. Many openings gaped in the walls, dark, with red and orange light flickering from the depths. The walls around her gleamed as the light glinted off something embedded in them.

Persephone stared harder. Skulls. Human skulls gaped back at her from empty eye sockets, aglow with lambent tongues of flame. She shrieked. Pummeling him with her fists she kicked and scrambled free from his embrace, tumbling to the floor where she looked back at him, eyes round and chest heaving.

Hades returned her gaze, then gave a mere nod of his head and looked away.

She sprang to her feet and ran, expecting his huge paw to nab her in mid-flight, but it didn’t happen. She ran blindly, clutching her skirts free of her feet, tears stinging her eyes, her heart racing.in her chest. She ran until she dropped.

She’d come to a river, one of many that flowed through Hades. Where does this river lead? Hopefully, away from here. I must get free. Back to my home, to my mother. At the thought of the goddess, Persephone released a sob of grief. “Oh, mother,” she wailed. “Please help me now in my most dire moment.”

Many months had passed above ground, since Kore had been kidnapped, for time passes differently on the surface than in Hades. For months Demeter had searched for her beloved daughter. Now Persephone’s lament reached her ears and tore at her heart. What plants remained alive shriveled and died as Demeter mourned, her keening carrying on the wind. “Where…is…my child….?

Wearily, Persephone rose to her feet. She cringed and covered her ears at the sounds of wailing and moaning as the souls flowed past. She gathered her skirts and pushed on in search of the headwaters. After what seemed like an eternity, Persephone halted. There is light, an opening ahead. She hurried forward. I can be free…

Something sprang onto the path. Cerberus, the three-headed dog loomed over her. Its three heads swayed slowly back and forth, fangs bared. A menacing growl resonated in its massive chest. Three sets of yellow eyes blazed, pinning her in its stare.

Persephone froze. Beyond Cerberus, light streamed into the cave. She took a tentative step forward.

Cerberus snarled, displaying sharp, gleaming fangs in mouths full of teeth.

Persephone sobbed and collapsed onto the ground. She bowed her head in defeat. For a while, she slept.

Hades came, his shadow eclipsing Persephone’s still form. He lifted her and carried her back to the throne room. When she awoke, he bade her eat. Persephone refused. Days went by and the pattern remained the same. Persephone returned to the same spot, only to be stopped by Cerberus. Each time Hades retrieved her. Always, a sumptuous banquet lay spread for her and always Hades bid her eat.

She refused.

One day Persephone sat on the path, gazing past Cerberus at the light beyond, when she felt something. Reaching into a pocket in the folds of her skirt, she pulled out a wheat and honey cake. Her stomach rumbled at the sight. I am so hungry, but I dare not eat. If I do, I will have to remain in this realm forever. Before she could change her mind, she threw the food away from her.

The three heads of Cerberus came up in an instant, noses busily sniffing. Cerberus bounded to his feet, sniffing the ground, heads traversing the pathway and beyond. Within moments he’d found the tidbit and with one gulp it was gone. He looked back at Persephone, drooling and panting and behind him, tail wagging.

Persephone searched her pockets, then slowly shook her head. “Sorry, big guy, that’s all I had.”

The next day went much the same, except this time, Persephone sat with her back to Cerberus. She found the honey cake that Hades had stashed in her pocket, carefully removed it and broke it into three pieces. Two she held onto, one she tossed.

In a black blur Cerberus leapt past her. The three heads scuffled for a moment and then a loud gulp. The dog looked back at her. She threw the second piece. It landed halfway between them. This time the head on the left claimed it. The middle head hung low and whined plaintively.

Persephone held out her palm with the last bit of honey cake.

All three mouths snapped shut as the heads cocked sideways. The tail that had been thumping on the ground went still. Then all three noses shot into the air and gave a powerful sniff. The tail started up again, thumping the ground so that stones rattled. All three tongues dropped from the open mouths. Drool flowed.

Persephone sat stock-still, hand extended. “You must come and get it.”

Cerberus stood, took several steps towards her, then stopped. A squabble broke out briefly between the heads. The middle head snapped viciously at the outer heads, ending the bickering. It swung back to regard Persephone.

Her arm trembled with strain, her fingers shook. “C-c-ome,” she stammered. “It’s y-yours. You’re a good dog, I mean d-dogs.”

Cerberus came closer.

She closed her eyes. It grew very quiet. The only sound was the dripping water off the stalagmites, echoing hollowly in the cave. Then she felt a tiny sensation as Cerberus, in the most delicate manner, stuck out his tongue and lifted the treat from her palm.

Persephone opened her eyes to see the huge animal sitting in front of her, watching her with an expectant air. She giggled nervously. The middle head “woofed” and thrust its nose forward, snuffling her tummy in search of more treats. Persephone fell backwards, laughing. Without a second thought she reached out and patted Cerberus.

“So this,” said Hades, approaching on the path— “is where the honey cakes have disappeared to.”