Icy winter fog swirled about his feet. Frost bite had long ago taken all feeling, leaving his legs almost as numb as his heart. The sky was cresting the old oak trees that stood guard; its light pale and without warmth. Turning toward the sound of cracking branches, he spotted the fleeting movements of another; the grounds keeper going about the morning rounds. Life went on even if he didn’t want to. The still of this morning would not last and with the new day, pain and death would stalk the world.
Even the birds knew life was off, their morning songs silent. Unnatural and cruel, it was hunting him now; black, soulless eyes following his movements, fingers frozen into claws waiting for the right moment. The soil at his feet was freshly opened, bits of torn wood and the smell of decay. This one was old and she would be hard to kill.
The Gods cursed him to this life of fixing the balance. Hades would be watching to see if he paid his debt. With a deep sigh of soul crushing burden, he set off to meet his fate.
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