An Essay About Pluto's Life

The pounding of horses’ hooves can be heard from miles away. The rhythmic drumming of their steel clad feet was enough to shake mountains and bring gods to their knees. They were known by many, their coats the color of starless nights and their eyes like rubies. They had names of course; Pluto was a kind man who named all that he loved. Orphnaeus, Aethon, Nycteus and Alastor were his four best steeds and they all served him loyally for many years, pulling carts of stone to and from his mine. You see, Pluto was a miner, the best one in all of the land. He could sniff out a silver ore deposit from six hundred yards away, making him quite famous among the wealthy families all over Europe. Every king wanted Pluto to work for them but every time
Plutus knew how important mining was to Pluto, so he struck him a deal. If Pluto would bring him all that he mined, Platus would make him a god and give him his own realm filled with all the precious stones and minerals he could ever dream. Pluto agreed, on the condition that he could keep his four horses. What Pluto didn’t know, was how Platus had tricked him. He never once mentioned how Pluto would now be the judge of the undead and subsequently the god of the Underworld. This sent Pluto into a state of rage, which and in turn, caused him to slay Platus. This was not enough to calm his anger though, so he built himself a grand chariot made from pure gold, silver, and every precious stone he could possibly find to spite Platus. By the time he had finished, the chariot was so magnificent and awe inspiring, it looked like he had embedded it with powers from the sun. He turned angry and cruel and reasoned to never make a deal with another god ever again. He laughed at every spirit that came to him begging for mercy and sent them all away. If he had to suffer here alone, so did all of them. No god dared cross his path ever