by Stella Joy
The man who claimed to be Hades found her in a bar. “I am Hades,” he said calmly, as if stating something perfectly ordinary. At first, she assumed it was just a strange pickup line. Until he added one more sentence— “And you are my queen. Persephone.” Of course she didn’t believe him. But as time passed, she began to notice something unsettling. He knew things she had never told anyone. Including the garden filled with blooming pomegranate flowers that appeared in her dreams. And a past she could not remember—but somehow felt had once been real. Maybe he was insane.Maybe he was lying. —or maybe every word he said was the truth.
No streak history
