Chapter Text
Posieden was a cold, greedy old man. He loved nothing more than money, and hated nothing more than spending it. Many swore that his presence alone could make a room’s temperature drop ten degrees. The people avoided him at all costs; unfortunately, he owned half the housing in London,many of which were the only option for those who resided there. Poseidon would spare no man, no matter the circumstances, should he fall behind on his mortgage payments. He did not believe in mercy.
Years before, Poseidon had a business partner by the name of Antinous. Antinous was equally cruel and only fed the flames of harshness that resided in Poseidon. However, seven years prior to our story, Antinous had met his end and lay rotting in his grave.
Today as Poseiden sat at his desk, counting his money and doing business as usual, there happened to be a slight disturbance. Odysseus, his only employee, had been handling the eviction notices for the following week when there was a knock at the door.
“Tell me who’s at the door, Odysseus.” Poseidon coldly commanded. It seemed as if his voice was inhabited by the North Wind, spreading a chill throughout the already frigid room.
“Of course, Sir.” For a man with such a monstrous employer, Odysseus always managed to keep his head up, his family keeping his spirits bright. Once he had reached the door, Odysseus gave Poseiden his reply, “It’s your nephew, Sir.”
“Let him in.”
“Merry Christmas, Uncle!”came the cheerful call from Hermes, Poseidon’s only living relative. He was a direct contrast to his uncle's miserly attitude. Hermes was always smiling and showing kindness to others, and while he was at it, maybe a few tricks as well, but overall, he was lifting people up. People looked forward to his presence. He also had a love for Christmas and the time spent with loved ones to commemorate the holiday.
Poseiden, on the other hand, saw the holiday as no more than a waste. A waste of money, a waste of time, a waste of effort, a waste of emotions.
“Merry Christmas! Bah! Humbug!” was the expected gruff reply.
As Hermes gleefully strided in as if he were floating, he gave a polite greeting to Odysseus who returned the greeting happily. Hermes held a slight glint of mischief in his eyes as if he knew that he would not be able to change his uncle’s views and simply wanted to rile him up.
“Christmas, a humbug? Why whatever would have given you that idea Uncle?” Hermes gave with a slight tilt of his head and honey coating his tone.
“Christmas is no more than a time for people to spend money that they do not have. They spend the mortgage money on frivolities and expect me to not evict them. The holiday is an excuse for people to pick a man’s pocket.” Poseidon gave with a huff.
“Well, not everything in this world is about money, Uncle, and while Christmas may not have provided me with any material goods, it has given me time with loved ones which is worth more than any bank can hold.” Hermes responded with a smile.
“You do no good, Nephew.” Just then there was another knock at the door. As Odysseus got up to let the visitor into the ragged-looking establishment, Poseidon muttered to himself of the troubles of the human world. Hermes stood to the side of the room, a beaming smile on his face and a sway to his stance, to allow the visitor to approach Poseiden’s desk.
Before Odysseus had properly let the stranger in, the man pushed open the door practically pushing Odysseus into the wall. The stranger, a sturdy man whose hands were calloused obviously from years of toiling work, muttered an apology and stepped into Poseiden's office.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen. My name is Hephestus, and I am collecting donations for the poor and homeless this holiday season.” His voice was ruff, and he spoke with a bluntness to his words. “I hear that this is quite the successful establishment and, as such, came to see what could be given to help our family on the streets.”
Hermes cut off his uncle's reply before he could even start with a bright smile. “Well, Sir, you have come to the right place! My uncle is quite the patron of charities, and it will do him well to help your cause.”
“Hermes!” Poseidon muttered loudly before addressing Hephestus. “I am sorry but do not put me down for anything; my nephew is mistaken.”
“We can make the donation anonymously if you would prefer, but exactly how much will we be collecting?” The sturdy gentleman replied as if he did not really hear the words Poseiden had spoken.
“Nothing! I will be making no donation.” Poseidon bit out with a sharp edge to his voice. “I pay my taxes which already give the poor places to work. They can go there or die; I do not care which.”
Hephaestus looked a bit taken aback by this outburst but kept his reply calm and cordial. “Most take that second option, I’m afraid, but if you will not help those down on their luck, I will not bother you anymore. Have a good day, Sir.” Hephestus had a slight glare on his face as he left, reflecting his view of the miserly old man who would rather see people die than give up a scrap of his own gold.
As Hephestus made his way to leave, Hermes handed him a small pouch of coins with a quick smile and opened the door for him before returning to his uncle. “Oh, Uncle, I almost forgot why I came here in the first place!” Hermes then produced a beautiful evergreen wreath from seemingly nowhere and hung it on the door to his uncle’s office. “I wanted to invite you to Christmas dinner at my house. It would be nice to have all my loved ones there for once.”
“My dear nephew, I can assure that with the way you go about getting attached to every being you lay eyes on, there will never be an instance where all that you hold dear will be in one place, except maybe your funeral.”
“You say that as if it were a curse rather than the most wonderful gift of this world.” Hermes said as he bounced over to the door to leave.
I will never understand you, Hermes.”
“You don’t need to, Uncle. Merry Christmas! And see you tomorrow!” He called out before turning to Odysseus and wished him a merry Christmas as well. Hermes then left the establishment in silence for them to continue in the day's work.
As Poseidon was preparing to leave, Odysseus had somehow managed to convince him to keep the office closed for Christmas. While Poseidon could not have cared less about his employee, he would give him credit for one thing: he had a sharp mind. As he left he tore the wreath his nephew had dumped onto him and threw it unceremoniously into an alleyway. Now, Poseidon walked back to his home in the cold, muttering about every Christmas display and the stupidity of the holiday. He could not have anticipated the night that would follow.
Poseidon walked up to his door. While he fumbled the key– further souring his mood– his eyes flickered up to the intricate brass knocker on the dark wood door. He saw the metal move and mold into the shape of his long dead business partner. What he was seeing couldn’t be true. Antinous had been for several years! Sure enough, there was his face, a long scar going across its left side, a smug smile in his face, extravagant jewelry strewn about his hair, and a malicious glint in his eyes.The the familiar look of smug condescension contorted into an expression of pain and torment, and he called out Poseiden’s name in a horrifying howl.
Poseidon jumped back in fear, but just as quickly as the vision had appeared, it disappeared. Poseidon looked around wildly. He knew it had to be a trick, some mischievous kids playing a joke, maybe his own nephew, but no one was around. Poseidon knew that what he had just seen couldn’t be real; it had to be some trick of the eyes.
Poseidon reached for his key once more, albeit a bit more shakily. Cautiously, he opened the door and stepped inside. He quickly shut the door so that nothing could follow him in, leaving him alone in the darkness.
Normally, he would allow the darkness to stay. It was the closest thing he had to a friend in the world; it was also cheaper than the light. Rumors said that he favored the darkness because it reflected the void in his soul where empathy should lie. Poseidon, however, did not agree with this sentiment.
That night he did not allow the darkness to stay. Seeing the face of his dead business partner had thoroughly shaken him. The image was burned into Poseidon’s mind, and every shift in the shadows had his heart racing as if its thumping could somehow scare off the evils that lurk. He lit the lamps and constantly looked back to check that nothing was behind him.
Eventually, after a few searches around the house, Poseidon finally managed to settle down a bit. He was still on edge, the constant paranoia poking at the back of his brain but more subdued than it had been earlier. He sat in front of the fire eating the small meal that his stomach would allow. It seemed to be a normal enough night. However things would not remain normal for long.
A wind blew through the room. A chill passed through that mimicked the chill that Poseiden’s presence would bring to many others. The mysterious gust put out the lamps, chasing all light from the room. For a brief moment the room was plunged into complete darkness. Poseidon’s heart began to race, and he fumbled for the poker near the fireplace. Once he believed he had the poker in his hand, Poseidon began to brandish it as a weapon.
Slowly, a dim light began to fill the room. It was nothing like Poseidon had seen before; it seemed to be from another world altogether. The light quickly flashed a bright, blinding light, and Poseidon shielded his eyes, dropping the poker in the process. As the stinging pain from the light began to fade, Poseidon heard a cold yet familiar laugh.
“Ah, old friend, seven years and you still have not changed. You could never compare to my charismatic charm.” a cool, condescending voice practically purred.
Poseidon knew that voice; he knew that tone. He also knew that it could not be true. That voice belonged to Antinous, but Antinous was long dead. At first Poseidon began to panic. Maybe his former colleague had come to steal his soul away to hell; maybe all his sins had finally caught up to him and Antinous was sent to carry out the punishment whatever deities ruled the universe had deemed fit.
Poseidon whipped his head upwards to behold the form of Antinous. His dark shin was paler than he remembered, a gray tone settling to it that could only be explained by time lying in a grave. His hair was tangled and matted, and it lacked the jewelry that had adorned it in life. His form was overall a bit dishevelled and looked what one would describe as ghost-like. Antinous’s face was the same as he had seen it at the door.
However, the most disturbing part of the spectre’s appearance was the chains wrapped about his body. They seemed to dig into the skin and restrict Antinous’s movement. If Posiedon tried to follow the chains to where they led he would only see a box. The boxes could not be moved by any attempt Antinous made.
This horrifying sight only made Posiedon sink deeper into his thoughts. What did the chains mean? Was this what awaited Poseidon? Had Antinous come to bestow these chains onto Poseidon?
Then Poison's logic began to give reason to the situation. Of course there was not really an apparition of his departed associate. It was merely his senses betraying him. The human senses were so fickle a man must rely on logic. He had tried to convince Antinous of this fact before. How ironic that his mind chose Antinous to test his logic.
“What is the matter? I don’t believe that I have ever seen you so rattled, Poseidon.”
Poseidon composed himself before giving his answer, “Well simple, I was not expecting my senses to fail me so suddenly. They are usually in a very healthy state.”
Antinuous barked out a sharp laugh at that statement. “Why do you not believe that I am really here? The eyes and ears do not usually allow one to see and have a conversation with a person that is not really there.”
“There is no better explanation. You never let logic guide you, old friend.” Poseidon replied with the air of diplomacy that he usually dawned when making deals with other large businesses.
“And you let logic guide you more than your senses.” Antinous attempted to step toward the spot where Poseidon had routed himself, but a chain caught his arm and held him back as Antinous let out an angry hiss and muttered a curse.
Poseidon was taken aback by the movement. “Antinous, what is this that troubles you?” he asked.
As soon as Poseidon asked, Antinous’s face had morphed into an angry glare. It was clear that he despised the chains and weights, and clearly he did not care to be reminded of them. He quickly fixed his posture and donned a sly smirk on his face.
“Well, simple this,” he said as he tugged on one of the chains, “is the fate that awaits you, only much worse. You see, these chains are forged by the misdeeds you do in life, and you know what I have done to earn mine.”
At this Poseidon was truly stunned. How could this be true, and how could Antinous know that what waited for Poseidon was much worse that what had befallen his old colleague?
“My friend, is there any way to escape the fate laid before me?” Poseidon asked with a slight shake to his voice.
Antinous let out another sharp laugh. “Of course you only care about what I have to say now.” The chains tugged at him again before he begrudgingly gave Poseidon the information he had to offer. “Luckily for you, the universe has decided to give you a second chance. Three spirits will visit you tonight, and you must listen to them and take their words to heart if you hope to escape the fate that awaits you. The first will come when the clock strikes one.”
At this, that same strange, otherworldly, bright light began to shine from behind Antinous, and he was pulled back by the chains wrapped around his limbs.
“Well, that is my cue to leave. I wish I could say this was pleasant.”
“Wait! I have questions! How will I know the spirit? What will they show me?” Poseidon called out to the disappearing spectre.
“All will be answered. See you on the other side, Poseidon.” Antinous had answered far too gleefully before drawing his tone to say Poseidon’s name. It sent chills through Poseidon’s body. It was as if his departed business partner had sealed his fate just by uttering the living’s name.
Then, as quickly as it had all started, everything disappeared. A deafening silence encompassed Poseidon as he was left alone to grapple with all that had just taken place. Thoughts zipped about his head so fast it was almost impossible to comprehend them all. He had questions that he knew he would be getting answers to until the morning came. Assuming that sleep would not come to him quickly, he retired to his bed early. He hoped it would help coax sleep to him.