By Zenia deHaven
Cerberus was eyeing the boulder of Sisyphus when a swirling portal cleaved space and time in two.
The hound of hell didn’t notice. There was a true miracle transpiring before him that required all his attention. Sisyphus was rolling his boulder up the mound. This was not unusual. What was unusual was that Sisyphus rarely made it this far out of the Underworld. Cerberus’ post was at the mouth of Hades, bordering the realm between the living and the deceased. Tartarus was leagues below, where the roaring fires barely masked the cries of the anguished dead.
Cerberus’ mouths salivated. The boulder looked like a large ball for an appropriately large hound.
Drop it drop it drop it
Cerberus’ tail wagged behind him, nearly knocking over a marble column. The ball was the perfect shape, size, and density for fetching. Perhaps he could convince cranky Thanatos to play with him. Cerberus never understood why death incarnate was so somber.
Just as Sisyphus’ foot slipped and Cerberus’ heart skipped a beat, the portal swirling above him sucked him inside, and the world went dark.
When he blinked his six eyes open, he was not in the Underworld.
Instead of craggy plains and spewing mouths of lava, this world was calm. Houses lined the side of the road, each boasting square plots of something green and spiky. When his right head dropped to sniff it, he discovered the blades to be dull and easily squashed under his foot. His middle head glanced up, then yelped in surprise as a golden light blinded him. In the Underworld, the skies were thick with black clouds that rumbled but never rained. This realm’s clouds were light and fluffy, like sugar. There was something else in the sky, too, a massive golden orb. He had heard legends of Apollo from the Underworld’s denizens and Hades’ bemoans, but Cerberus never fathomed its luminosity. His middle head blinked the stars out of his vision.
Cerberus’ left head whined nervously, examining the unfamiliar, wooden homes and the gray, smooth path that snaked through them. The sun’s rays warmed the dark cement, but Cerberus was accustomed to far harsher conditions.
With a determined huff, he prowled forward.
Cerberus reasoned that he must be in the realm of mortals. He had never journeyed here before, but Persephone had told him about it. It was a world with unique seasons, endless seas, and white-capped mountains that brushed against the sky. This place seemed a bit less impressive. No shimmering seas stretched to the great beyond. No mountaintops prodded the base of Olympus. Persephone’s home must be far from here because Cerberus was wholly unimpressed.
A loud honk blared from behind him, like a startled goose. He turned, his ears upturned in confusion, as a shiny beast sped towards him. It was like a chariot, with four mortals housed in its middle, but no horses propelled it forward. It shot towards him with incredible speed, blaring a tinny noise all the while.
Before he had a chance to flee its path of destruction, the iron chariot crashed into Cerberus’ side.
Its nose crumpled from the impact, rocking the whole vehicle forward, before falling back onto its circular stumps with a pained squeak. Its shiny roof brushed Cerberus’ shoulder. Cerberus leaned down, squinting at the passengers through the dark windows. They stared at him, slack jawed, and screaming but alive.
Cerberus padded on, leaving the mortals to shout to their hearts’ content while he explored.
This place smelled… earthy. His middle nose bowed towards the ground, sniffing while the other four eyes kept an eye out for careening chariots. The scent reminded him of Persephone’s garden, with its pomegranate trees and yellow and red poppy flowers that miraculously flourished in the dim halls of Hades. Thinking of home struck him with a sudden onslaught of homesickness. What if he didn’t make it back? What if Hades and Persephone never found him? Despite the warmth of Apollo’s sun chariot, Cerberus shivered.
He caught the aroma of something familiar. It was musky, a bit foul, but full of promise.
His three heads swiveled clockwise, locking on the scent. There was a young mortal, with straw-colored hair and a face speckled with irritated red dots, and a dog barely longer than Cerberus’ nail. He had tan fur, bulbous, brown eyes, and only one head. Cerberus supposed that every universe had its peculiarities.
His three tongues lolled.
FRIEND FRIEND FRIEND FRIEND.
Cerberus bounded over, the earth quaking beneath each pounce. The boy startled and fled, dropping the tether attached to his dog. While the mortal sought cover in the nearest bush, the dog’s haunches drew back, teeth bared. Cerberus slowed, surprised by his aggression. He lowered his heads, communicating he only wanted to play, but the small canine barked, snapping his little teeth. Though he was a flea compared to Cerberus, he had the ferocity of a hound a thousand times his size. Cerberus cowered, shocked by the other dog’s animosity when he only wanted a friend. He tried once more, lowering his belly down in a playful position. The one-headed dog snapped at his paws. While his teeth glanced off Cerberus’ skin, he retreated. He understood. No play. No friend. With his tail between his legs, he turned and left. The little dog yapped after him, his human still trembling in the bushes.
Cerberus hoped Hades would find him soon. He didn’t like the mortal world. Apparently, they didn’t know how to treat three-headed hounds the size of an elephant. So unsophisticated.
He continued along the street. Several iron chariots began to approach him, realized what he was, and then awkwardly swiveled around and flew off in the opposite direction. Feral cats hissed before sprinting away. Dogs howled at him from behind windows and fences. Not the friendliest place.
He stopped. Something smelled like hell.
Cerberus’ middle nose drank in the aroma while the other two heads scanned for its source. He chased after it. Had Hades found him? Was there another portal that would extract him from this nightmare? Was he going home? The scent was smoky, like a soft burning fire.
His ears perked. Someone was screaming.
He doubled his pace. Home was fast approaching. It had to be.
But when he broke through the tree line, he didn’t find a portal to the Underworld, but a home consumed by flames.
The structure groaned as the fire licked away at its wooden supports. A crowd of mortals had assembled, far from the billowing smoke but close enough to gasp in horror as the house groaned and creaked, threatening to topple.
Another cry erupted from the house. A mortal was trapped inside.
He couldn’t see her through the onslaught of smoke, but he smelled the mortal girl’s terror from the second story of the home. Two elder mortals were shouting the same syllables in a language Cerberus didn’t recognize. They must be her parents, crying her name. The other mortals patted the distressed parents’ backs, offering their condolences before their daughter was even dead.
Cerberus straightened. Fortunately, he was well-equipped for warm temperatures.
He stepped towards the home. The mortals, who had been too distracted by the fire to notice a twenty-foot-tall three-headed dog, gasped at his presence. They exclaimed in distress and confusion as he approached the building, waving their fleshy hands, but Cerberus ignored them.
The smoke was unpleasant in his mouths, but bearable. The fire caressed his fur like a thousand writhing hugs. He located the girl and nudged his left head towards the shattered window, his snout brushing against the glass. The child was flat against the wall, her skin bleached whiter than bone. She blinked at him, eyes rimmed with soot. Cerberus pushed again, encouraging her forward. The house moaned its death throes. The girl inhaled, steeling herself, and jumped.
She landed on his snout with an oof. Wheezing, she grabbed onto his ear fold for support.
Cerberus stepped back from the flaming home as it finally collapsed in a fit of burning wood and sparks. The mortals exclaimed in joy at the sight of the girl. Cerberus approached the parents, lowering the girl so she slid off his nose. Before she could touch the ground, they wrapped their arms around her and showered her with their kisses and their tears.
Cerberus’ heart warmed. He loved the Underworld, but the mortals were often depressed that they were, well, dead, and made for poor company. It was refreshing to see them in their living state: alive, in love, and full of hope.
The cheering stopped. The mortals remembered the girl’s rescuer and slowly looked up at his three panting mouths. Their joy receded, replaced by mounting terror.
Before they had a chance to react, the portal shattered open once more and swallowed Cerberus up to return the guard dog of hell to his post.
