Hounded
By: Ian Gonzales
Tags: Short Story, Fiction, Mythology, Writing Prompts, Creative Writing

Theo leaned back in his creaky chair, tapping a pen against the surface of his desk, peering over stacks of papers and textbooks at what had to be his least-favorite student. “Okay, Louis, you say you have a good excuse, so let’s hear it.”

“Well,” the young man standing before him began, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “You see, a dog ate my homework.”

The pen stopped tapping. “Excuse me?”

“A dog ate it.”

Theo sighed. It was already almost eight o’clock, he hadn’t had a bite to eat in hours, and he still had something like fifty papers to grade. The classroom was silent and empty around them, the other students long since gone, leaving chairs askew and desktops cluttered in the wake of their exodus. Teaching high school social studies courses had seemed like such a good direction for his career, but thanks to Louis Freemont, Theo was reconsidering that decision. “Louis, I know you consider Greek Mythology to be a throwaway class…”

“No, wait, let me tell you everything that happened.” Louis pushed his thick glasses back up on the bridge of his nose, ran a hand through his lank, tangled hair. “See, I was on my way back to school, had my assignment redone, on paper, just like you asked.” His expression said what he thought of that. “It was already getting dark and as I passed this alley off First Street, I heard this growl. Now, this wasn’t your normal growl; this was like a bulldozer with a clogged intake.”

Theo pursed his lips. “I assume this is going somewhere.”

“Oh, it is,” Louis said, adjusting his glasses again. “You see, way down in that alley, I saw these red eyes. Now, I was thinking dog already, but the problem is these eyes were like ten feet off the ground. And there were three pairs of ‘em.”

For just a second, Theo felt a chill, a sensation of something remembered that he really wanted to forget. Then he shook the disturbing idea away. Louis’s problem was an overactive imagination, fed by way too many MMO games and a distinct lack of self-discipline. It was time to wrap this meeting up. “Louis — ” he began, but the teenager cut him off.

“I’m just getting to the important stuff,” Louis said. “So, out of the alley came this dog, a huge dog. Its fur was black, all filthy. And there was this smell, like a whole carton of eggs went bad and got stepped on. Strangest thing, though, is it had three heads.”

Again, Theo felt that chill, and had to fight the urge to shudder. He covered his reaction by leaning forward, shuffling some of the papers on his desk. He didn’t meet Louis’s gaze. “Three heads, you say?” He only just kept his voice under control.

“Yeah, three heads.”

“Look anything like this?” Theo pulled out the class textbook, flipped it open to an illustration of an immense, three-headed dog. The beast was depicted surrounded by flames and standing over a scattering of cowering human figures.

“Uh-huh. Just like that.”

Theo sighed. It was just a coincidence. Louis must have actually looked at the class textbook — amazing in and of itself — and come up with the wildest story he could conceive. “That’s Cerberus, the hound that guards the underworld.”

“Really? Geez, that’s one scary dog,” Louis said, the implication going right over his head. “Anyway, it came at me, all snarling and growling, and all I could think was that I was dead meat.”

“So what did you do?” Theo asked, eyes wide in a facetious look of rapt attention.

“Well, I threw my bag at it and started running. I mean, what else could I do? I tell you, that thing snapped up the bag, all three heads just started chewing on it. Guess it worked, ’cause I got away.”

Theo dropped the pen on his desk, leaned further toward his wayward student. “Louis, let me make this as clear as possible. That assignment was make-up work. It was not optional. Now, I want you to redo it, and turn it in first thing tomorrow.” He pinned the young man with his gaze. “Or else.”

Louis heaved an immense sigh, rolled his eyes. “Sure thing, teacher. I’ll just drop everything else in my life.”

“See that you do.” Theo shook his head, willing relief to wash over him. A wild tale, nothing more. He had half a mind to fail Louis, but that would just mean having to put up with him in summer school. Still, if the kid thought he was getting better than a passing grade —

“Uh, Mr. Smith?”

Theo looked up, to see Louis standing in the open doorway, a strange expression on his face.

“You smell that?”

Theo leaned back in his chair, drawing in a calming breath, prepared to convey in succinct fashion his desire for Louis to stop bothering him. Then the stench reached him, a reek of hot sulfur and ash, one that he recognized all too well.

Then, from out in the hall, he heard a low, deep rumbling, like a dog’s growl, only much too loud. It seemed to vibrate through the floor and walls, and set his heart to racing.

“Louis?” he whispered, since it suddenly seemed like a good time to whisper. “Are you sure you got away from that dog?”

Louis response was move away from the door, backing his way into the classroom.

There came the loud clicking of claws on the tile floor of the hall, as whatever was out there came closer. A snuffling noise sounded, and Theo could imagine a monstrous hound’s head, lifted to scent the air.

Louis suddenly stumbled backwards, tripping over a chair and sending it flying. He went down to all fours and started crawling, blubbering in terror. A massive shape took his place in the doorway, a dog so large that it made the doorway seem like a mousehole. Three repulsive heads, with muzzles skinned back from dripping fangs and eyes that blazed with a fiery glow, panned across the room.

When the massive hound’s burning gaze fell on Theo, the heads froze in place, pointing straight at him. For a long moment, Theo could do nothing more than stare at the terrifying apparition in front of him. Then the heads lifted, and a fierce, baying howl erupted from three throats at once.

The sound was deafening, and seemed to shake the walls. Theo winced at the noise; it was louder even than he remembered it being.

“Mr. Smith!” Louis shrieked from where he cowered under a desk, as far from the nightmarish apparition as he could get. “What’s it doing that for?”

Theo waited until the monstrous dog paused for breath. “It’s doing what any good hound does,” he said, his voice sad and resigned. “It’s calling for its master.”

The beast lowered its three heads again, then lumbered the rest of the way into the room, still growling, its eyes never looking away from Theo. Immediately, a blast of smoke and swirling ash erupted in the doorway, spreading out and quickly dissipating.

In its wake stood a figure, a tall man, very thin, wearing a severely cut black suit. His head was bald as a melon, his skin pale, waxy and translucent, stretched tight across the bones of his skull. His eyes, large and heavy-lidded, were jet black, as if lacking irises or whites, or is if they were empty holes opening into utter darkness.

When those eyes caught sight of Theo, a slow grin stretched his thin, bloodless lips. “Ah, there you are. After all this time, I’ve finally found you.” He stepped into the room, walked right up to the desk, his gait loose limbed and shambling. A subtle odor clung to the man, a faint whiff of decay, as if his favored cologne was the essence of death.

“I gotta say, I didn’t expect you to ever catch up to me.” Theo glanced at the monstrous dog, which had slouched onto its hindquarters, its bulk pushing several desks out of place, but was still glaring at him. “I took some pains to make sure your mutt couldn’t track me.”

“And you did a good job, too,” the stranger said. “But, as always, it was your mortal attachments that tripped you up.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of Louis’s cowering form.

“Ah,” Theo grunted. “So that’s what Fluffy was doing menacing my student. You used the kid to pick up my trail.”

“Worked, didn’t it? And here we are.” The man looked Theo up and down, a critical squint on his face. “How have you been, Prometheus?”

“Just fine, Hades,” Theo replied. “Clean living grants you a long life.”

“Yes, a very long life,” Hades agreed. His gaze fell on the cluttered desk, paused at the sight of the textbook, still open to the page depicting Cerberus. He picked up the volume, leafed through it. “Still up to your old antics, eh? Stealing fire and giving it away, so to speak?”

“Just a little harmless knowledge,” Theo muttered, frowning. “Besides, I didn’t steal fire; I gave it back.”

“Semantics.” Hades waved a hand, as if clearing away a pall of smoke. “It amounts to the same thing. Zeus made up his mind, you disobeyed, and we know where that got you.” He smirked. “It was also where you were supposed to stay.”

Theo shrugged. “Having my liver devoured every night by Zeus’s pet bird got old real fast. Anyway, it was his own son who sprang me. Have Thunderbolts take it up with Hercules next time he visits the Underworld.”

“His Lordship doesn’t come around much anymore. He trusts me to keep things in hand.” Now Hades shrugged. “Of course, I don’t use the old place much myself. Times have changed; mortals don’t need us anymore, and we’ve decided we like it that way. Still, have to keep the loose ends tied up.” He sighed. “Which is why I’m here.”

Theo tensed. “So, it’s time to drag me back to my eternal torment? I won’t go without a fight, and I’m still titan enough to make it tough for you.”

“Spare me, please.” Hades looked around the dingy little classroom, with its vomit-green walls, scuffed and pealing linoleum floor, and battered school desks. His eyes came to rest on the quivering form of Louis, still huddled in one corner and doing his best not to move. “Nice place you’ve made for yourself here, ‘Theo’. Charming. So, you teach adolescent mortals about the way things used to be?” He let out a cackling laugh. “By the gods, that must get old, too.”

“It’s an honest living. You should try it some time.”

Hades shook his head, still grinning. “You know, I could care less if Zeus wanted me to chain you to that cliff and let you be gorged upon until the end of time. See, I’ve been following your… exploits… for a while now, and I’m impressed. Truly impressed.” He faced Theo squarely, crossed his arms over his thin chest. “With all those little tidbits you stole from the gods, all that knowledge you ‘gifted’ to mortals, you did more to spread destruction and suffering than any of us ever could. Give humans fire, and they try to burn their world down around them. I may be the master of the Underworld, the prince of eternal torments, but you managed to help make the mortal world into a hell on earth. Bravo.” He clapped his hands together in mocking applause.

Theo felt a hot flush creep up his neck. “It was done with the best intentions, Hades. I never meant harm.”

“Good intentions,” Hades said, spreading his hands wide. “They pave the road to my doorstep.”

“Touché.” Theo sighed. “Look, I know what I’ve done. I guess you could say it’s why I do what I do. At least here, I can’t cause much more damage, now can I?”

“Exactly,” Hades agreed, his smile widening to reveal large teeth the color of old bones. “Which is why I’m going to leave you right here.”

“What?” When he first heard the baying of Cerberus, and the Lord of the Underworld walked through his door, Theo expected a battle of epic proportions, followed by an inevitable defeat and an inglorious return to his suffering. But it seemed that the gods had one last surprise in store for him. “Why would you do that?”

“Because,” Hades said slowly, as if speaking to a child. “If I tried for a thousand years, I couldn’t come up with a worse fate for you than spending eternity trying to guide and shape the follies of mortals. That you did it to yourself just makes it all the more satisfying.” He stepped back from the desk, took one more look at the pathetic, cowering form of Louis, and barked out another laugh. “Enjoy your eternal damnation, Prometheus. And keep in touch.”

With a belch of black smoke and the stench of brimstone, Hades was gone once more, taking his hound with him.

Theo glowered at the empty space where the God of Death had stood. He understood the irony of his reformed sentence, and didn’t appreciate it. Maybe teaching high school for all eternity would turn out to be better than having his entrails feasted on; time would tell.

Theo sighed, glanced at Louis, who stared back at him from the shelter of his desk, eyes and mouth gaping wide. “He’s gone, Louis. You can get up, go home.” He sat down, slumping heavily into his chair. There were still papers to grade, lesson assignments to prepare. The week was just beginning, and there was no end of work to be done.

“Mr. Smith?” Theo glanced up, to see Louis, clothes disheveled and glasses crooked on his face, standing in the doorway again. The kid had the look of someone just awakened from what they hoped was a bad dream. “About that paper I’m supposed to rewrite…”

Theo just stared at his student for a minute, that let out a snort of laughter. “Tell you what, Louis. Since you told the truth, and a dog did eat your homework, I’ll let you off this time. But remember that I do know the Lord of the Underworld, so the next assignment I give you better be done on time.” He fixed him with a glower. “Or else.”