Record of Ragnarok Hades x Reader

~Note to Readers: Wanted to thank everyone for reading my other Record of Ragnarok stories and for encouraging me to write more, you are all wonderful. Similar to my previous stories I delve straight into the mythology of these Deities, however I take many creative liberties to better fit the story especially this one, so don't expect things to be exact in regards to RoR or Greek mythology~

Hope you all enjoy ❤

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Your nerves were in your throat as you crossed the threshold. 

 Your godly instincts lead you for an accursed island where the light itself could not breach the clouds of these skies..

It were a habitat of gloom where the spirits of the dead could linger.

The Land of the Dead

Surrounded by the salty rivers of Oceanus, the settings were foggy having many dark facets.

It were eerily quiet; not a sound or bird in sight.

The deeper you wandered the narrow passages the less sea life resided on these damp surfaces. Even the sea lichen refused to reside on these rocks.

The renowned heroes of old had walked these very paths to find the land of the dead to hear prophecy's or speak to deceased spirits of those victim to life's cruelty.

Though their journey's were much more perilous having been limited by their mortality..

You had the advantage of divinity and could directly descend upon the island without trouble.

While this were convenient, even you, a deity were limited in your capabilities.

Not just any God had freedom of passage to where you were headed.

Following the ominous stone pathway you stopped upon a clearing having caught sight of a particular carving in the surface below your feet.

θῠσῐ́ᾱ 

Obeying the instruction you drew out a special weapon that you had expectantly brought along; one which could pierce a God's flesh.

You warily pressed it into the meat of your inner arm wincing at the unsavoury measure. It were the first time you'd ever been wounded.

Your glimmering blood began to trickle down past the blade. 

It ran down your arm spilling on the ground.

 This were a means to summon; an offering.

When enough blood had amassed you watched as it unnaturally formed and collected to fill the crevasse of the word in stone.

You winced and grit your teeth waiting for the spell-work to take place.

You began to hear the faint calling of voices in the distance as the surrounding fog grew heavier.

The cries and wailing grew remarkably louder making you shrink back uncomfortably. It were  chilling even for a God to hear the sounds of the dead, especially when it were quickly closing in.