Cerberus leaned back in his chair and studied the bare stucco wall. Wooden legs creaked as he shifted his bulk. He sighed deep in his chest, memories floating past on the blank canvas. A small glass barely touched his lips as he sipped, the deep red liquid trickling down his throat. He scratched the black scruff on his neck, then the thicker patches on his cheeks. He could not remember the last time a razor had touched his skin, could not even remember where a razor might be found. The lack of a full beard suggested he had shaved recently. Cerberus sighed and let another trickle of red ease down his throat.
A noise downstairs jerked him upright. A noise? He placed his glass on the tabletop before his chair and walked to the door. He pulled it open and peered down the hallway. "Backpackers," he muttered as a young, fit couple crested the far stairs. Their pale skin was scorched by the summer sun, their boots caked with mud and clay. Cerberus shut his door and returned to the chair, casting a quick glance at the rumpled sheets on his bed. "When was the last time I slept?" he wondered.
Sunlight beamed in through the single window, two panes of glass set one above the other in the bare wall. Cerberus had never tried opening it, wasn't convinced it was possible. Open or closed, the heat didn't care. He sipped.
A knock at the door. Cerberus creaked out of the chair and swung the door open. The male backpacker. Blond hair, red face, intense blue eyes. Dirty. Smelly. Judging by the young man's grimace, Cerberus didn't look or smell so good either. Far worse, if he had to guess.
"Do you speak English?" The young man's hands hovered over his pockets.
"Yes."
"May I come in?"
Cerberus scratched at his thick black hair, glanced out into the hallway. Empty.
"Sure."
Cerberus gestured at the bed as he resumed his seat in the chair. The backpacker pushed some unrecognizable detritus to one side of the mattress and sat on the edge.
"Are you who I think you are?" The young man's hands clutched at this pockets now, noticeable bulges in each.
Cerberus sipped at his glass, then offered it to the youth. "Want some?"
"No thanks." The young man glanced around the room as he chewed on his lower lip. His blue eyes took in the chair, table, window, and bare walls.
Cerberus leaned back and asked, "Who do you think I am?"
The backpacker was shaking. A slight tremor, which Cerberus pretended not to notice. The blond haired man took a deep breath. The shaking subsided.
"Cerberus. The guardian of the gateway to the underworld."
Cerberus sipped from his glass. His coal black eyes narrowed as they burrowed into the widened blues.
"Isn't Cerberus supposed to be a dog?"
"Supposed to be, I guess."
"You calling me a dog?"
"Uh, no. Not exactly."
Silence. Two more sips.
"What's your name?"
"John. John Traveler."
"Why are you here John Traveler? Besides to call me a dog."
"Because, I..." He chewed on his lip for a moment, hands inside his bulging pockets. A deep breath followed.
"I've been everywhere. Climbed mountains in Tibet, poled the Amazon," he brought his left hand out of his pocket. It held a large, bone shaped chew toy. The kind you might give to a large hound. Cerberus eyed the toy, his coal black eyes narrowing to slits.
With a chuckle the backpacker remarked, "Guess I don't need this." He tossed it on the floor.
"Now you're throwing crap on my floor."
"Right, sorry. I'll, uh, take it with me when I go." John stooped and picked up the bone. He passed it from hand to hand before deciding to put it back on the floor. "I'll take it when I go."
Cerberus sipped his drink, eyes focused on John's.
"Listen. I like adventure. I live for it. Excitement, thrills, all of it. I've been everywhere the world has to offer. I need something new, something unique. Understand?"
John's words hung in the air as Cerberus took a slightly larger sip from his small glass. He glanced down at it for a moment. Still a quarter full. How was that possible? He tossed his head and refocused his gaze on the young man.
John shifted on the bed and leaned forward, his blue eyes intense. Feverish.
"So are you Cerberus or not?"
Cerberus lifted a foot to scratch at the back of his leg. "I thought we covered this."
"You never really answered."
"Oh." He sipped some more, his eyes unfocused as they met the wall. "Yeah," a smile touched the corners of his mouth, "I think I am."
John jumped to his feet. "I knew it!" He pulled a small hand held tape player from his second pocket. His thumb jammed down on the play button and easy-listening trickled forth.
"Is that a lute?"
John shrunk back onto the bed. "Yeah, it's a lute."
"You thought it would put me to sleep?"
"Yeah. Do something, anyway."
"You really want to see the underworld?" Another sip.
"Yes! Just tell me how to get there!"
"Open that window."
John raised his eyebrows. The combination of this and chewing his lip made him look like a nervous three year old. He stood and walked to the window. A quick glance back at Cerberus revealed no change in the keeper of Hell's gate. John pushed up the window with a minimum of effort. Dust drifted down around the young man's face, eliciting a few coughs. When the dust cleared, Cerberus was standing next to the backpacker. His glass rested on the table.
"I wasn't sure that could be opened. Never tried myself."
"What's next?"
"You jump."
"What?"
"Stick your head out that window."
John slowly moved his head over the sill. "It's really hot out here."
"Damn right it is."
"Jumping out a window is crazy."
"I thought you liked crazy."
John raised his eyebrows. "What?"
"Nevermind. Are you going out or not? I have drinking to do."
John leaned against the sill and peered out. He didn't notice Cerberus step close behind him, but he felt the push that sent him plummeting head first to the barren patch of soil below.
A knock at the door. Cerberus rose from his chair and opened the entrance. The young female backpacker, her face rosy red and tear stained. "You killed him."
Cerberus sat down and sipped from his glass. "He asked for the trip."
She sat on the cleared space on the bed. Cerberus quirked an eyebrow. Did he invite her in?
"He didn't want to die to get there."
Cerberus shrugged his shoulders. "Oops."
She turned her head, her eyes tightly closed. After a moment she turned back.
"Where's the real entrance? The one that can be used to enter and exit, alive?"
"To the underworld?"
"Yes."
Cerberus shrugged again. A dim part of his mind registered that he hadn't shrugged this much in years. He generally ignored that place in his mind.
"You want some?" He offered his glass, still a quarter full. He glanced at it with a frown, but could not figure out what it was that bothered him.
"No thanks."
Silence.
"You must know how to access the entrance."
"Trade secret."
"Fine." She stood and walked to the doorway. "I'll bring the police back here, they'll take you and lock you up for killing John."
Cerberus pounced forward and slammed the door closed. Or the door slammed shut on it's own. He wasn't sure, and the girl was too surprised to comment. He returned to this chair, took a sip of his drink. She stared at him, her breath coming in quick gasps.
"You can open the door and go now, if you wish."
She slowly grasped the handle, turned it and pulled the portal open. The hallway was gone, replaced by a dark passage, a hole in space. The sound of lapping water drifted in from a great distance.
"That's it?" She could not turn away from the portal, her brown eyes wide and breath quick.
"That's it."
She stepped closer to the door and peered through. Dim phantoms floated in the darkness, but she could not determine what they were. She spun around, the hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention as Cerberus moved close behind her.
"What are you doing?"
"Firming your resolve."
"I ... I don't want to go."
"Shannon," the voice floated through the portal, no more than a whisper yet impossible to ignore. Shannon cringed away and bumped against Cerberus' chest.
"Shannon, help me," a figure hovered close in the darkness. Indistinct, but gradually taking shape as it approached. Shannon grabbed the door, tears welling in her eyes as she struggled to close it. It would not budge.
Coal black eyes watched her struggle. "I thought this was what you wanted."
"No! I changed my mind! Stop this!"
The shape was just beyond the door. A body, certainly, with a man's build. The head, however, was twisted at an impossible angle. Shannon screamed as John's features took shape on the broken visage, his eyes gray silt pressed against fogged glass.
"Shannon, please. It hurts, hurts so much. Come to me, help me." He stretched out his hands, reaching out from the portal. Light blurred around the edges of his form as it began to exit the darkness. A frigid wind caressed her skin in familiar patterns.
Shannon screamed and scrambled back towards the bed. She looked at Cerberus, eyes wide, cheeks wet. Her mouth worked but she could not form any words. Cerberus smiled.
"There's only one way out." His outstretched finger pointed to the open window.
Shannon ran and grabbed the sill, then stopped.
"Shannon," the voice rippled through the air and rooted her to the floor. "Please, I'm so alone."
She spun around and looked at Cerberus. His face was fixed in a feral grin. For a moment his image wavered, and Shannon flinched away as two more heads shimmered into place, outlined by the darkness of the portal behind the guardian, each one bearing the toothy grin of a predator.
John's shade had pushed halfway through the portal, but appeared to struggle, unable to advance further.
"No." Shannon wiped at her cheeks, took a deep breath to steady her voice. "I won't make his mistake."
Cerberus shrugged. His smile faded, the other heads disappeared.
"I want to leave, to go back to the hotel."
Cerberus turned to glare at John. The phantom let loose a howl that brought Shannon to her knees, hands clutched over her ears. When she looked up, the shade was gone. Only an empty darkness remained, the sound of lapping water echoing into the room. The door swung closed.
Shannon walked past Cerberus and pulled the portal open. The hallway had returned. She hurried out and down the hall to her room. Cerberus resumed his seat and the door slid closed.
Cerberus leaned back in his chair and eyed the tape player, which rested on the table. He pushed the play button and lifted his glass to his lips. The easy listening trickled out. He smiled.
