• The heroes’ house was light up from outside by red and blue lights. Cops pushed back the crowds, few others questioned the witnesses. The story goes that screams came from within the house, but no one saw what happened. Amen ran out, covered in blood, and began to cry.
    “Oh my, “ he said. “What have I done?”
    It was then that the police were called. That man didn’t speak nor move from that spot. As the house was searched, he knew it was only he to blame.
    Someone asked. “What’s your name?”
    He didn’t answer.
    “Do you know who these people are?”
    Yes he knew them. He had loved them; he had been the one to kill them.
    His wife, his sons. Lives taken by his hand. His children no longer able to grow up, to fall in love, to become men. His wife no longer by his side, aging as he was. Those who made him feel as if he belongs with this world, he had destroyed them. Everything was his fault.
    “My wife” He sobbed. “My boys.”
    Not much was said from the man. Only sobs came. Once in a while he cried how he was the one to do it, but they went unheard. In his mind he replayed the moment. Everything was fine at first. And one second, he filled himself with anger. There was no stopping him after that.
    His mind was black after that. All he could remember was opening his eyes and finding blood against the walls. The bodies of those he loved lay by his feet. Still warm, still bleeding. By then there was nothing anyone could do to save them.
    In a fog the heroes began to walk. No one saw him; no one noticed this stranger was even there after a few moments. He was forgotten. He let his feet carry him without a thought.
    “Dearest father,” He called. “Forgive my sins. My mind is not right, and my heart is dead. Their blood still covers e, and their screams echo in my head. Is there no way to end this pain? Is there someway to be with them again?
    “I know it is all my doing. Am I to suffer for such things? But for how long? Live out the rest of my days in this pain? Or shall I end it now and suffer in hell?”
    No answer came. The heroes’ feet took him o the cliff side. Beneath it were waves clashing against rocks. Not one man had survived the jump, yet none had tried. Many days he had stayed there. Wind pushing the sound of cars and joy around him, but he only felt numb.
    It was there and then he went to make the jump. Just a step and off he goes to join those he loved; those he killed. It was at that moment a brave friend spoke to him.
    “Sup Herc?” Theseus patted him on the back like normal. It showed he knew nothing of his friends’ sins.
    “Leave me,” Hercules voice was weak. “I do not deserve the comfort of you my dearest friend.”
    “Why so emo?” Theseus sat down beside him. “What did you do this time?”
    But the thing was he didn’t actually know what he had done. Sometime between the smiles and the cries of mercy he had snapped.
    “It was my love of my family,” Hercules said. “For I have killed the only ones love me as I loved them.”
    “Wow,” was all that was said. They sat and listened to the sounds in the distance; the rocks below them.
    “Come on, man,” Theseus broke the stillness after an unknown time. “You just gonna sit here for the rest of your life? Get up and live on with your life.”
    “How can I?” He said. “My life died with them. What do I have left in my life besides misery and woe?”
    “Oh Hades hasn’t as much woe as you” Theseus stood up. “You pity yourself as if no one has every killed a loved one but you. I’ve watched you for many years, and each death you take with nothing, yet not those done by your own hand.
    “Such a hero you are. Some hero who can’t even carry on after loss. You fought death and demons to get this title, yet weaker man can carry on more so than you!”
    He didn’t stop there. The yelling went on, and Hercules only sat there. Every word passing in his mind and out his ears. When it was still once again, he spoke.
    “You’re right,”
    He stood before his friend and embraced him.
    “Thank you,”