Bad Guy

What did I do to deserve this? Nothing. I’m just doing my job. That’s all I’ve been doing for eons now. My job. You know how few Olympians actually do their jobs anymore? How would they find the time when they're so busy screwing with mortals? And, yes, I’m not on Olympus right now, but I’m still an Olympian, dammit! I fought against the Titans just as bravely as Poseidon or any of the others. Zeus got to be in charge cuz he's the oldest (I mean, he's really the youngest, but whatever, right?), and me and Poseidon drew lots for what was left. He got the Sea. I got the Underworld. That was the deal, and I, for one, intend to stick to it.

That doesn’t make me a bad guy.

It doesn’t exactly make me a good guy, either, granted. I’ve done some things I’m not exactly proud of, but who hasn’t? I mean, have you seen some of the crap Zeus has been doing? Turning into bulls and swans and sleeping with mortals? All those half-human kids he keeps leaving all over the place? But does anybody give him a hard time for it? Of course not! He’s Zeus! King of Olympus! He can do whatever he wants and people just love him more.

But, me? I’m the Lord of the Underworld. The God of Death. So, naturally, I have to be the bad guy. It’s not like I cause death. It’s not like I go around killing mortals for fun. They kill each other, or themselves, and I just pick up the pieces afterward. That’s my job. It would be the same job even if Poseidon had drawn the short straw instead of me. Then they’d be “the bad guy.” But it’s me. Go figure.

Who does this guy think he is? True, he’s bowing and calling me “my lord,” but if he were truly giving me the respect I deserved, he wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t have the effrontery to come down here and challenge my authority. Asking me to give back his girl. What is he expecting me to say? "Oh, sure, you came all the way down here, and nobody else has ever asked politely for me to return someone who has died, so of course I’ll grant your wish, Orpheus." Just because this guy is a rich, handsome, famous king, he thinks the rules don’t apply to him.

And it’s not like I’m not sorry. I am. Nobody believes me when I say that, but it’s true. I know how she died and it’s sad. It’s tragic. It’s real unfortunate. But she’s still dead. And if the sadness of the death was a factor, half the souls down here would’ve gone back upstairs millennia ago.

Persephone is loving this. Or maybe she’s just trying to make me mad. She hates me. I don’t blame her. She was the most beautiful creature in creation and look what I did to her. I took a perfect, flawless work of art and I dragged my fingernail across it till it tore. And why? I don’t even know. I guess I’m angry. Bitter. Nobody can blame me for that. But that’s no excuse for how I’ve treated her.

I think I loved her once. If I’m even capable of that. Zeus claims to fall in love every other week with some mortal then forgets about her the minute he’s had his fun. Maybe gods just don’t know how to love. Maybe it’s better that way. Let’s face it, ninety percent of the problems in this world could be solved if we could stop screwing anything that moves for two seconds.

This character’s not gonna leave if I don’t give him something. But I can’t set a precedent for giving dead people back just because someone came down here and said pretty please. What do I do?

I go with the first idea I can think of. I have the girl sent for. I give Orpheus the layout. Even as I’m saying the words, I hate myself for saying them. I glance at Persephone. She hates me too, but what else is new?

Orpheus prostrates himself at my feet, praising me like he thinks I’m my brother, swearing to be eternally grateful for my kindness. Yeah, wait till you get back upstairs, kid. See how fast you go back on your word and go back to hating me like everybody else.

Like me.

I tell him he can walk back home with Eurydice walking right behind him. But he has to keep facing forward the whole way. If he turns around once, even just to check that she’s there, she’ll be lost to him forever. He seems to think that’ll be easy. He has no idea. The dead don’t breathe. They don’t make any sound when they walk. Sooner or later, he’ll get paranoid, think I’m tricking him (which, in a way, I guess I am) and he’ll turn around. Then she’ll be gone.

Mine forever.

I win.

Lucky me.

It sounds cruel, but it’s not. Not really. You know what would be cruel? Giving her back.

People don’t understand how death works. It’s not like Eurydice would go right back to being the way she was before. She’s no longer alive. She never will be again. Not even I can do anything about that. I can give Orpheus back her spirit, but that’s not the same thing as resurrecting her. And her spirit would be miserable, trapped in a world to which she no longer belongs.

It would be torture; worse than if she were still down here with me. I tried to explain that to him, but he was so stupid with grief that he didn’t listen.

I console myself that at least I’m giving him hope. False hope? Sure. But that’s the best I can do. Besides, you have to look at the big picture. Sooner or later, everyone ends up down here. No matter what you do, how good a life you live, how many sacrifices you make to the gods, in the end, everyone comes to Hades.

Big picture: All hope is false hope.