A Zoologist’s Guide to Surviving Magical Creatures

Emerging from the glowing gates of Elysium, I was hit with the cool, eerie stillness of the Domos Haidou lobby. It was like stepping out of a warm bath into a haunted freezer.

My boots scuffed against the polished obsidian floor as my eyes adjusted to the gloom.

"I wonder if I could get a selfie with Hypnos. I should add him on Mythigram too," I mused, taking my phone out of my pocket.

My backpack was still strapped to my back, so I adjusted the weight slightly while I walked towards the main lobby.

Instead of the drowsy Hypnos lounging in his usual spot, I was met with a hulking figure draped in black, his silver eyes glowing like twin moons.

Thanatos. The God of Death.

I froze mid-step.

"Thanatos," I muttered under my breath, trying to avoid eye contact.

Unfortunately, he noticed.

With a guttural grunt, he blurred from across the room to right in front of me, faster than I could process.

My heart tried to punch its way out of my chest, and my phone nearly slipped from my hand.

I fumbled to regain my composure, offering a shaky laugh.

"You're not Hypnos," I blurted out. "Did he go to take a dump too?"

Thanatos's eyes narrowed.

"Hypnos is an imbecile."

He unfurled a parchment scroll that glowed with fiery glyphs, and the air around me thickened. The scroll hovered midair, its edges curling slightly as if alive.

"Sign it," he commanded, his voice like a chorus of iron doors slamming shut.

I squinted at the scroll.

"What's this? A receipt for the emotional damage I just endured?"

He didn't laugh.

"The agreement," he said coldly. "My idiot brother forgot to have you sign it before he sent you off to Elysium."

"Oh, well, you know, Hypnos has a lot on his plate—what with all the napping," I offered weakly.

Thanatos's glare could've turned a phoenix into a pile of ash.

I coughed, gesturing awkwardly at the scroll. "Uh, where's the pen?"

He looked at me like I'd asked him to perform a karaoke duet. "What do you mean, pen? You sign with your soul."

My stomach dropped.

"My soul? That's… uh… pretty high stakes for paperwork, don't you think?"

Thanatos loomed closer, and the room seemed to darken. "If you don't sign," he said, his voice reverberating ominously, "then you die."

Oh, cool. No pressure.

Swallowing hard, I asked, "Could I maybe, I don't know, do a trial first? Like a freemium subscription? Test the waters before committing?"

His death glare spoke volumes.

"I suppose the answer is no...."

Shivering and muttering a nervous joke about needing a lawyer, I reluctantly placed my palm on the scroll. As soon as I made contact, a searing sensation shot through my hand, and a faint silver light was drawn from me into the document.

The scroll vanished with a hiss, leaving behind a faint wisp of smoke.

Thanatos smirked, a sight more terrifying than his scowl.

"Welcome to Domos Haidou."

"A little too late for that, don't you think?" I muttered under my breath.

*********

The air in Tartarus was suffocating, thick with an oppressive energy that seemed to weigh down my very thoughts.

Ahead of me loomed a colossal arena carved from black stone, its walls inscribed with glowing sigils. The whispers of desperate souls echoed faintly, adding an unsettling soundtrack to my approach.

A skeletal croupier greeted me at the entrance, his bony fingers clicking together as he outlined the rules. "Welcome, mortal, to the Pit of Wagers. Here, your soul is your currency, and the games are your trial. Survive—or perish."

"Cheery place," I muttered, but my voice was swallowed by the oppressive atmosphere.

My first opponent was a wraith-like figure whose eyes glowed faintly beneath his hood. The game was simple: roll the dice, wager a piece of your soul. Each roll demanded a fragment of my memories.

The first roll? A fleeting scene of me running through a sprinkler as a kid.

The second? My first time holding a baby chick at a petting zoo.

The third? The time I accidentally called my high school chemistry teacher "Mom."

With every roll, my head felt lighter, as if pieces of me were being shaved away. By the fourth, I struggled to remember why I was even here. But when the wraith rolled a losing number and hissed in defeat, a wave of clarity washed over me.

"Guess I got lucky," I quipped, though my voice trembled. "There goes my fear of embarrassing chemistry memories. Not sure I'll miss those."

The second challenge was darker.

This time, the stakes were more than just my memories.

The arena floor shifted, revealing a brutal combat pit. Mythical creatures—some injured, others trembling—were forced into the ring—griffins, chimeras, and a limping manticore—was paraded before me.

A roster appeared before me, and I was expected to place bets on the fighters.

It was horrific. The creatures weren't here by choice, and the fear in their eyes hit me like a punch to the gut. My stomach churned.

"Place your bets," the croupier intoned.

"I can't do this," I muttered.

The croupier's hollow voice echoed in my mind. "Then you forfeit your soul."

I scanned the lineup, my stomach churning. The creatures' eyes weren't just fearful—they were pleading. This wasn't a game. It was exploitation.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered.

Taking a deep breath, I placed a small bet on a limping griffin—not because I thought it would win, but because I hoped it wouldn't have to fight long.

As the match began, I saw the griffin trembling. Something in me snapped. I couldn't take it anymore. Ignoring the gasps of the spectators, I bolted onto the field.

"Stop this!" I shouted. "This isn't right."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves.

Okay, Carl. You've got this. Just pretend you're on one of those nature shows. Calm voice, confident gestures… and try not to look like you're about to wet yourself.

Ignoring the croupier's protests, using what little I knew about mythical creatures, I disrupted the betting system.

I straightened up, addressing the creatures directly. "Hey, you guys don't actually want to fight, right? Look at you! You've got wings, claws, tails—what are you doing in a rigged game like this? You're better than this!"

I shifted my gaze to the croupier, who was smirking as he shuffled betting slips with skeletal fingers. "Oh, and you," I said, pointing at him.

"Yeah, I see you trying to distract everyone with that flashy handwork. Classic misdirection! But here's the thing—you might be dead, but I've got a brain, and it's telling me this whole system stinks."

Turning to the audience, I raised my voice, letting it echo across the arena. "Ladies and gentlemen—if you can even call yourselves that—how about a real show? You want excitement? Drama? How about freedom?!" I swept my arm toward the caged creatures, locking eyes with as many spectators as I could.

As the creatures started hesitating, their eyes darting between me and their captors, my internal monologue kicked into overdrive.

Great, they're listening. This is either going to be genius or get me flattened.

I forced myself to stand taller, pretending I wasn't terrified out of my mind. If I could just keep their attention and buy some time, maybe, just maybe, we could all make it out alive.

A few well-placed distractions and a surprisingly persuasive speech later, I managed to free the creatures.

"Go!" I urged them, waving them toward the exits.

The griffin hesitated, then gave me a grateful squawk before flying off.

I sprinted toward a crumbling stone bridge that stretched over a glowing chasm of energy.

With the arena in chaos, the remaining guards turned their attention to me. "No pressure," I muttered, staring at the unstable pathway.

The creatures took turns crossing, the griffin nudging me forward when I hesitated.

"Come on, legs, don't fail me now!" I gasped.

The bridge groaned under our combined weight, the stones cracking ominously.

"Move, move, move!" I shouted, my voice rising several octaves.

A baby manticore—one of the creatures I'd freed—bounded after me, nipping at my heels like an overexcited puppy.

Halfway across, the bridge began to collapse.

"Not good, not good!" I muttered, clutching the manticore to my chest as I made a desperate leap to the other side.

The bridge collapsed behind us, sending shards of stone tumbling into the darkness. We made it just as the final slab crumbled into the abyss. I landed in an ungraceful heap, panting and bruised but alive.

The griffin, now perched beside me, gave a soft squawk of thanks.

********

Back in the eerie lobby of Domos Haidou, I leaned against a wall, clutching the baby manticore, who purred contentedly.

I patted its head, smiling despite the adrenaline coursing through me. "You're lucky I'm a sucker for big puppy eyes."

I pulled out my phone and turned on the camera.

"Betting on yourself isn't always fun," I muttered, snapping a quick Mythigram photo of the two of us. The caption practically wrote itself: Freed baby manticore and survived Tartarus. What did you do today? #SoulGambling101

Thanatos reappeared, his expression unreadable. "You survived."

"Yeah," I said, standing straighter. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

He didn't smile, but there was a glint of something in his eyes—respect, maybe? Or mild amusement.

As he disappeared into the shadows, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.

The baby manticore nudged me with its nose, and I scratched behind its ears. "Well, little buddy, looks like we're both survivors now."