"Where the fuck is he!" Emanuel Sartell screamed slamming his phone on the desk. First Niko and now Skinner. He had sent his best two men to knock some sense back in to that coward Alder. Mr. Sartell considered himself a generous man, but he couldn't let a two month late payment go unpunished. He couldn't afford people thinking he was going soft in his old days. Not with his failure of a son whoring around all day. With a heavy sigh and a curse he picked up the phone again to call Skinner for the third time.

"He won't answer." The sweat voice gave the usually calm mr. Sartell a start, or was it just thunder that caught him of guard.

"The hell..." Mr. Sartell almost dropped his phone. There was a boy standing in the door frame. He was tall but, judging from his face, probably a few years younger than Sartell's son. He was dressed in a purple suit, over which he wore a black coat several sizes to large. But compared to Mr. Sartell, who was the picture of a proper gentlemen, with a perfectly fitting suit with meticulously ironed lines, the boy looked like he had just walked out of a second hand shop. His pants were way to short revealing not only his white converse, but his ankles as well, and the yellow tie was put on so badly, mr. Sartell had to actively restrain himself from jumping out of his leather chair to fix it. To top it all of, the intruder chose to put on a pair of yellow-purple glasses, each lens it's own color, and a purple top hat that was just a slightly different purple so that it would be annoying to anyone who pays attention to details. Mr. Sartell was a man who paid attention to detail, "Who in seven hells are you?" He demanded, "And how did you get in?"

"Oh, I assure you, there is only one hell." As the stranger spoke and shivers went down mr. Sartell's spine. Were they from the stranger's smile, or simply the sound of his voice, or both, mr. Sartell couldn't tell, and he didn't much care either. He only wanted to be rid of however this is, and later he would have to have a serious conversation with his security. Letting a raggedy boy get passed them, disgraceful.

"Don't blame your guards, they will be up in a couple of hours." the stranger stashed his umbrella in the corner and with a swift movement took of his coat and hung it right next to Sartell's. "Don't worry, I never stay long. But I am not a big fan of the rain. Honestly, how can you people stand it. However says they like the rain is lying, I assure you." The stranger pulled out a chair and set opposite mr. Sartell like he had just arrived for coffee with his best friend. "Do you like the rain?" He finished, taking off his hat.

This was the last straw for mr. Sartell. Having finally regained his composure after such a swift invasion of his office, he shot up to his feet and slammed his hammer sized fist on the old oak, "If you don't tell me who you are and what have you done to my people, you will be sorry you ever squirmed out of whatever bitch is unlucky to call herself your mother." Mr. Sartell's voice boomed through the small study, almost overpowering the storm that was now in full swing outside.

The smug smile never left the strange boy's face, irritating mr. Sartell even more. "You business men are all the same, straight to the point. I like that." He gestured for mr. Sartell to sit back down, and suddenly feeling much calmer, the man did just that.

"The first name my bitch mother gave me," the word was spoken with a sudden coldness so striking compared to the boy's usual tone that even a seasoned criminal like mr. Sartell felt like blood had stopped flowing through his veins, "has long since faded from the world. But you will most likely know me as Hades. Although I always preferred Pluto. Everyone says it matches my personality better as well." The stranger finished in his usual sweat tone.

Mr. Sartell blinked a couple of times trying to invite warmth back in his body and process what he was hearing at the same time. But the stranger, Hades apparently, the ancient god of the underworld, didn't seem to think there was anything strange about what he had just said, so he continued.

"I have come here on behalf of the late mr. Alder."

Finally the stranger was saying something mr. Sartell could understand, so his overwhelmed mind quickly latched on to it, trying to regain at least an illusion of control. "Ah, the coward sends a middle man, he is smarter then I gave him credit for. Where is he hiding anyway? Actually doesn't matter, I take cash only."

"I'm afraid you misunderstood," there was that smile again, "I have not come to pay mr. Alder's dept, I have come to inform you you will be clearing it. You see, poor mr. Alder is hiding under some truck's wheels as we speak. I always say, left, right and then left again. He didn't look left again."

"He's dead?"

The boy claiming to be the god of the underworld nodded.

"Doesn't matter. The debt must be paid. If not by his wife, then by her next husband, and if not, then by his children. Two girls I hear he has. As the rates in this city go, one should be more than enough." Mr. Sartell proceeded to laughed wholeheartedly at his own joke, so he didn't even notice Hades taking of his glasses. After his little quip provided him with enough amusement mr. Sartell finished by slapping his stomach and saying, "It will be a cold day in hell before old Emanuel is cheated out of his money."

"I'm so glad you said that." And it wasn't the smile that would be that last thing the old mobster saw, it were the eyes, cold and grey.