Disclaimer: Do I actually need one for this story? I'll put it in just in case. I did not make up any characters (except a select few) in Greek Mythology.

AN: Ok, ok, I know- like 99% of the fanfics on Greek mythology are either about the Trojan War or Persephone/ Hades (at last that what it felt like when I was browsing the archives) Anyway, this is only my second attempt at a fanfic so have mercy! (However, flames ARE welcome... ahem, under one condition, only- my take is this: if you're going to tell me my story sucks ass, at least tell me WHY.)

Here goes nothing.....


Her lips were dry, her throat was tight, and her mind was far away. A crown of wilting flowers was in her blonde hair. Her hair hung down her back, tiny loose braids every every few stands. It was rich, thick, a darker shade of strawberry blonde, smooth and shiny. Her skin was a matching pale hue. Not pink, but rather white, as if she had been bleached of color. The effect was rather stunning with her deeply vivid emerald eyes, but from afar, looked frightening. Her skin looked deathly pallid from several strides away. Her whole body lacked activity and her face was devoid of expression.

She had put her elbows up on the black marble table, and her chin was resting in her palms. The table was decorated as if for a large feast, but there was only one solitary chair drawn up to the table that she had taken a seat in.

There were different kinds of delectable roasts, cheeses, breads, grains, and scrumptious desserts- tarts, pie, chocolate, all sweetened with sugar cane. To wash it all down, there was ambrosia, different wines, and nectar. However, the savory platters of food remained untouched. In front of her lay nothing but a small dish probably made for appetizers. On it lay a pomegranate severed in half.

There were several lights lit in the room but it had no effect on brightening the room whatsoever. Only the table appeared illuminated, as the moon shone through a small gap in the dark velvet curtains, and reflected on the table's dark surface.

The girl pushed her small plate away and looked at her reflection in the smooth marble. Her dark green eyes stared back at her. Though she looked as if they had once been full and rosy, her pale cheeks were gaunt and hollow. There were even what looked like dark rings under here eyes. There appeared to be permanent sadness etched in her face. She looked at the pomegranate again. Could she dare to? In a hunger-daze, she found herself slowly picking out a seed, already it was traveling to her mouth...

What was she DOING? She hurriedly put the seed back on the plate with a clumsy sort of jerk. She'd rather starve than eat it. She found her mind throwing arguments around at this. Once she ate the seeds, she'd be able to eat whatever she wanted. All she had to do was eat the seeds... eat... eat... eat the seeds... Unconsciously, she found her hand reaching for the plate again. She quickly snatched it away. What was going on? Why couldn't she control herself? It was the whole place, so dark, forlorn, and lonely. From a room down a long corridor, she could hear dreary music playing. The more she listened, the more she noticed the feast in front of her, the more she was tempted.

"You must be hungry," he had said.

She had pressed her lips together, shaken her head, despite the urge she felt in her growling stomach.

Nevertheless, he had lead her to the black marble table and pulled out the single chair. "Won't you sit down, please?"

She gracefully took a seat, having been taught to do so all her life. She daintily placed her hands in her lap, staring at the painting hanging on the wall across from her. It depicted a lovely maiden lying, nude in a field of plush green grass and beautiful flowers in bloom. Attending the maiden were several nymphs in flowing, breezy garments of pastel shades. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers and immediately another chair appeared and he took a seat across from her, partially blocking the painting. It was the only piece of color in the room and her eyes were drawn to it naturally. Not only that, but it reminded her so much of home that tears began to well in her eyes which rolled down her cheeks and splashed on the black marble.

He had leaned over across the table as if he had never seen anyone cry before. Fascinated, he watched each tear, watched her wipe them away with a small handkerchief.

When she had stopped and was barely sniffing he asked gently, "You must be hungry. Why don't you eat something?"

She had solemnly shaken her head.

"Don't be silly. Of course you're hungry."

She had looked hungrily at the meal on the table. It did look so appetizing. She found her hunger was becoming stronger than her stubborn will... She filled a plate with food and poured nectar into a goblet. She was just about to bring a forkful of beef stew to her lips, she could smell the spices cooked into it, the flavor of the creamy sauce... but suddenly her fork fell from her hand onto the plate and it disappeared along with her goblet.

To the disappointed look on her face he replied, "Eat the pomegranate first." And he abruptly stood up and left with a toss of his cape. His chair was gone too. She had tried to get up from her chair but found that she could not. The chair, as if it had a mind of its own would not let her get up. Not only that, but her feet would not move either. She could not help it- she wept again.

She was still sitting here, nearly a whole day later, fighting the hunger, the exhaustion, and tiredness. Most of all, she began to miss home. She felt like a little girl once again, eager for her mother's embrace, her comforting touch. In her mother's arms she would be safe, there, nothing could harm her. But that's not where she was...

She gave a big sigh. At sixteen, she was still a hopeless idealist. But before she had been taken here, her life HAD been ideal. Beautiful fields of green, blooming and wonderfully scented flowers, vibrant color and life everywhere. Raised in such a wonderful, lively world, she had naturally become a mirror image of it. Here, she felt dead. Once again, she found herself longing for her mother's arms.

A flood of memories from her childhood suddenly came to her. Her father had been Zeus. Yes, Zeus, himself had fathered the lovely Persephone. She did not remember him much in her childhood. He seemed to be more of a distant relative to her that she saw once a month. Where she brought a mindful gift which she presented with honor and then kissed his hand.

He would nod deeply as he approved and waved her aside as a sign for her to stand with her mother. Waved aside.... PUSHED aside by her father. The first day she had presented him a gift, a wonderful bouquet of morning glories- her favorite flower, he had gruffly accepted and waved her away. She had never given him a second thought after that day. Who needed a father....- when you had a mother?

She rarely saw him anyway. Her mother had been concerned about Hera's disliking to her daughter, so she did not let her visit Mount Olympus too frequently. Demeter was most often found outside, but went to Olympus everyday. Persephone, however was nearly always outside.

She loved nature, she loved the life around her. She associated with nymphs, their daughters, and other minor goddesses of life. Her mother didn't like her to be alone or drift too far away from watching eyes and her daughter often took this as more of a reason to do so. She liked sneaking away from the group. She would lie in the green meadows with other maidens, making herself a chain of beautiful, bright flowers. Then, she'd wander little by little further away from the group. Usually they'd follow her, unaware of her intentions. Sometimes, however, they wouldn't notice and she'd surreptitiously wander away.

She loved to explore by herself. Discover new places and things. Her playmates wouldn't worry about her since they new her tendencies but her mother always remained anxious until she returned safe. And she had always returned home soon enough. She loved her home and mother and playmates too much to stay away for too long. No matter how many clandestine wonderful places she found, she had always returned home... except this time.

"Let's go to the creek today!" Iris had called. Her voice was excited and her feet were tapping impatiently.

"Sure," she had called back, and with a toss of her reddish-blonde hair, hurried after Iris.

Barefoot, the two walked across green meadows and along a dirt path through a dense forest. After a five-minute stroll, they reached a clearing, where light was allowed through the canopy. It was a very large area and right through the heart of it, flowed a rather large creek. The creek was rather fast-flowing but rather quiet. It curved through the whole forest, varying in depth and speed. All along the the banks were clusters of flowers. Marigolds, Morning Glories, daisies, and forget-me-nots grew in colorful clusters among the blades of grass.

Iris and she had picked a bunch of flowers and then sat on the banks of the calming waters. They had pulled their skirts up to their knees so that they could dip their legs in the cooling creek. The picked flowers they had placed in their laps and made flower chains which they placed in their hair, around their necks, wrists, and ankles.

They had not sat too long by the creek when already, nymphs from the waters already came and sat with them. She and Iris were well acquainted with them since they came to the clearing quite frequently. Soon, they were joined by other girls. They chatted for a long time until Ares' sister, Bellona, suggested they play something. They decided on hide-and-seek. A rather childish game, it seems, for goddesses and nymphs to play, but they were young and loved their fun. Iris agreed to be "it".

Most girls hid in groups in the verdant growth encircling the clearing. The strawberry-blonde, however, hid by herself. She wandered a little further than the rest and when she could no longer hear the suppressed giggles of the nymphs and goddesses, she sunk down on her knees behind a bush, careful to hide her apparent hair. From time to time, she would peek over the bush, to see if she could catch a glimpse of any other girls, or perhaps Iris. However, she could see no one, and suddenly, she felt everything around her gow uncomfortably silent.

She quickly got up and decided it was time to make her way back to the group. On the path, she suddenly saw a beautiful flower. She did not know its name, the only thoughts running through her head was how beautiful it was. As she walked cautitiously deeper into the forest to pick it, the ground seemed to quake before her. She stopped, mid-walk and quickly picked the flower. That shaking had been her imagination, hadn't it? But it hadn't. The ground trembled greater now and suddenly, it split and she saw down a cavernous, dark abyss. And a chariot pulled by great, black mares rode out onto the ground. She could not see the driver, as he was wearing a large black cloak, but the sight of him in his pitch-black chariot and horses terrified her and she began to run, flower gripped in her hand.

He had cutt her path off back to the creek, so there was only one direction in which to run. She had not managed to go far before he grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her onto his chariot. He rode back down into the dark opening in the ground, which immediately closed behind them, and she remembered no more.

When she came to, lying on a luxurious bed of soft down, He was there again. He had now taken off his long cloak and was wearing a black cape instead. For a moment she had lain on the bed, simply studying his features. She saw he had large, very dark-blue eyes that caught her attention immediately. He noticed she had woken up and silently led her to the table.

At that table, she still sat. A beautiful girl with strawberry-blonde hair, eyes as green as the forest she had been kidnapped from. Her skin now pale, her stomach empty. Her long fingers reached slowly for the pomegranate on her plate. She dug out a seed and lifted it to her lips. The girl swallowed. Another one. And one more. Persephone had eaten three seeds...

How was that for a 1st chapter? OK? Horrible? Click that button! .