In the Underworld things were getting just as weird, if not weirder, as they were on earth. Lord of the Dead, and King of the Underworld, Hades hadn’t gone to work in almost three days! It wasn’t for lack of not wanting to; it’s just that every time he made to go out he would forget where he was going and what he was doing and just go back inside.
The Lady of the Dead, Persephone, wasn’t doing much better than her husband. She’d been looking for her favourite dress for the past four days, and she still hadn’t realized that she was wearing it, and it was starting to smell.
While things were not going very well for the members of Hades’ household, the same could not be said for the conspirators, whose fault all this was. From the safety of one of their homes, two of the three connivers watched the happenings of the House of Hades through a Seeing Pool. A pool the gods used to look in on things happening on earth and to communicate with one another. It was considered bad manners to spy on a fellow god, but they all did it anyway, especially if they thought one of their fellows was up to something nefarious.
“Do you think he’ll be pleased with the information we have so far, or is he going to want more definitive proof?” Asked the man who was standing over the Pool. No longer in cloaks, since they were in the safety of their home, the plotters faces could know bee seen. The man looking into the Pool was about average height, 5’7, with a darker shade of blonde hair, a deep honey colour that he kept short so it wouldn’t fall into coal black eyes. He wore boot cut blue jeans and an Invader Zim t-shirt, featuring the character GIR singing his ‘Doom Song’.
“Knowing him he’ll want more, but this is all we’re giving him. We’ve been camped out here for days keeping an eye on things. If he wants more proof he can bloody well come here and get it himself.” The second man scoffed as he gazed at the ceiling from his position sprawled out on the floor. He too had dark blonde hair, but a few shades lighter than his companions, kept back in a loose tail at the base of his neck, leaving blue eyes unobstructed. Black flannel pants that hung off slim hips, covered his long legs, and a gray muscle shirt hid a lean upper body. In other words he was wearing pyjamas.
“I was hoping you were going to say that. I was starting to get bored standing here all day.”
“You’re always bored. One would think you were the god of Boredom instead of the god of Doom.”
“Yes well haven’t had much of a chance to spread any Doom lately, have I? I’ve been stuck here watching Hades and Persephone as they make idiots out of themselves.”
“Think of it as a vacation. I still have to do my job. Someone might get suspicious if the world suddenly stopped sleeping.” He stuck out a hand to be helped up and the first man grabbed it, hauling him to his feet. “What I want to know is how he’s been getting away with not doing his job? Going to be kind of hard to explain if people stop dying completely out of the blue, don’t you think?” He dusted off the back of his legs as he walked over to grab his cloak, his fellow schemer following him after he had cleared the Pool.
“Well you can ask him when we get there.” They wrapped their cloaks about their shoulders, letting them fall closed to hid their bodies from view, then flipped up their hoods to do the same for their faces. With one last look to make sure that nothing was out of place the two nodded at each other and left the dwelling, heading off in separate directions.
They found their third member, and ringleader, near what could be considered the northern most point of the Underworld, since the Underworld was a circular realm there were no compass directions. Their third was not alone, he was with the Cyclops known as Brontes, and they also noticed that their fellow plotter did not have his hood up.
As they approached him the one who had pyjamas on under his cloak said, “Weren’t you the one who suggested we wear cloaks to hide our identities. And what’s the Cyclops doing here?”
“I know I suggested it, but if you two are here that means that Phase One is complete, yes?”
“Yes…but-” said the one who had spoken.
“Which means that Hades and his Queen will be too scatterbrained to notice that not everything is as it should be in the Underworld, correct?”
“True but-” tried the second.
“Then we have nothing to worry about for the moment. The Bright One doesn’t usually attempt to contact Hades till later on in the month anyway, and by the time he does check in it won’t matter.” He still stood with the proud stature he had when they had met above Tartarus a week ago. He had the same hair and eyes as the one in pyjamas. In fact they were mirror images of each other.
“Yes but what about the son? Since he lives up in the mortal realm he’s not affected by what’s happening down here. What if he comes for a visit?”
“We’ll deal with it if it happens and not before.”
“Fine, but that still doesn’t answer my other question. What’s the Cyclops doing here?”
“Do you know how to break through the walls that surround the Underworld without attracting unwanted attention? Because last time I checked, you were a god of Sleep, not crafting.”
“That’s why he is here.”
“And what did you promise him to get his cooperation and silence?” It was the second cloaked figure, the one who was wearing the GIR t-shirt underneath his cloak that spoke.
The three watched as the Cyclopes laboured away at the layers of night, rapidly and noisily, making his way towards the Bronze wall, the last obstacle before Phase Two of their plan could really get underway. “I promised him, and his brothers, a place of power and respect in our new order…of course I don’t plan on keeping the promise. But what they don’t know won’t hurt me.”
“I hope not, because after he gets done with you he will come after us. I really wish you would have told us you were going to bring someone else in.” The man in the pyjamas ran a hand agitatedly through the bits of his hair that were left loose, knocking his hood back in the process.
“Don’t worry so much, you’ll get frown lines.”
“I’ll give you fist marks if you don’t watch it. What’s making you so lax all of a sudden anyway?”
“Brontes says he should be through the Wall by early tomorrow afternoon, which means our new Empire should be ready within the week, if not sooner as long as there’s no interference from on high.”
“Okay I guess those are good reason. But don’t go getting stupid. I’d rather not be roasted by a thunderbolt thank you very much.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t give us away. Go spread your doom and nay saying else where.”
“Speaking of Doom, how are you getting away with not making sure people die when they’re supposed too?”
“Hmm, oh, I made a bet with Ares. I said he couldn’t go a week without making war happen somewhere. So the nations that are at war with each other have made a sudden an unexplainable truce with one another. And it’s easy enough to keep up with everything else.”
“Huh, good idea. Think he’ll hold out for the week?”
“I don’t know, but I bet him $500 that he couldn’t do it.”
“And he went for it?”
“It’s a challenge. When have you ever known Ares to turn down a challenge?”
They watched Brontes work in silence for a while, before deciding to go their separate ways. The pyjama wearing god stretched, “Well I got to head down to Australia. There’s a group of idiot teens down there that decided it would be fun to watch three horror movies in a row. I’m conspiring with my boys. I see a long night of nightmares in their immediate futures.” He cackled evilly and rubbed his hands together in obvious glee.
“You enjoy your job to much.”
“And you don’t enjoy yours enough. Go sprinkle some Doom Dust on some unsuspecting, exam taking, university students or something. See you in a few days,” he waved then disappeared through a Door, which would take him to wherever he wanted to go. Creating Doors was something that only gods could do, and it allowed them to travel all over the world in the blink of an eye.
The mastermind turned to his other companion and asked, “You mind staying here for a bit longer? There’s an old man with terminal cancer that’s about to kick it down in Montana. I believe he said something along the lines of, ‘Death could walk in here himself and I wouldn’t die.’ I need to go and prove the old guy wrong.”
He shook his head but agreed, “Yeah sure, no problem. But get back quick I think I might take the University idea.”
“Sure thing, be back in an hour or so.” With that he too disappeared through a Door and was gone.
That just left the third and final conspirator standing there by himself, watching as Brontes worked tirelessly to break through the Layers of night. It looked like he was on the third and final layer. He would be starting on the Wall soon. He allowed himself to think that this crazy scheme of theirs just might actually work. But only for a little while, he was the god of Doom after all, hope wasn’t exactly in his vocabulary.