Hades slammed the door on his way out of the room. The resounding snap of the wooden door slamming home into the stone walls of dark obsidian rebounded around him like the crash of thunder as he made his way through the halls towards the garden. It was dark there. Sometimes it could be made light, but now it was as dark and deadly as his mood. He knew if he didn't let his temper cool enough before he returned to her he would have killed her for her insult. That is simply how jaded he'd been made by everything. He was hated without even being known. His eyes were pure fire now no longer the color of blood but instead the color of raw living fire. His face looked terrifying with it's cold hard edges and the deadly look of blood lust and murder on his face.<br/><br/>He gazed out at the twisted trees and prickling rose bushes he kept in his garden. The roses looked like blood atop their dark almost black bases. water ran from the roses like bloody tears. He cursed. Even the garden matched his mood. The cry of those being tortured and tormented echoed around him until it was all he could hear, very faintly punctuated by laughter and joy coming from the only bright part of his realm. He turned away from the scene having stood there for so long. Maybe hours, maybe days. Time wasn't important or relevant. His anger was but faint smoking ambers. His eyes returned to their regular blood pools.<br/><br/>He turned away and headed back towards the room where he'd chained Persephone. A part of him felt that might have been wrong to do. He entered slowly and silently, ignoring the reason in his mind. He walked all the way to the bed and sat slowly onto it's edge.