Romans & histoires Hell Tartarus

it crooned. “Shenanigans,” I said. “Many are afoot tonight,” the gargoyle said wistfully. He retracted back up, and the boy opened the door for me. I stepped into the entrance hall to find nude and semi-nude figures sprawled across the floor and furniture. I recognized the incubus twins from the Beard Society, their arms around a short, round succubus. All three were asleep. Several lilitu sat in a circle in a corner, smoking hookah. Further on, Matilda stood at an easel, painting what lay before her: a grinning satyr lying on a divan. He had a huge belly, a huge beard, and a huge reason to look so cheerfully confident.

Those whose crimes warrant a sentence to eternal punishment were sent to the darkest regions of Erebus or down the pit of Tartarus. There stood a great palace made of black rock and crystal, the abode of a tall slender goddess Hades. Her majestic black robe and puissant look made those around her cower in fear. Mortals were afraid to even mention her name. Very few knew her as Áïda. Perhaps for fear of pronouncing it, they started calling her Hades.