Chapter 10 - The Underworld Rejection

Sisyphus opened his eyes.

Grey sky. Grey water. Grey shore stretching in both directions forever.

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

He sat up. No pain. No broken ribs. No crushed lungs. Just the dull, familiar ache of being dead again.

The River Styx lapped at his feet with the enthusiasm of a municipal drainage ditch. Same grey water. Same grey ferryman poling his way across with the speed of someone who'd given up on punctuality ten thousand years ago.

Charon's boat scraped onto the shore with a sound like someone giving up. The ferryman looked at Sisyphus. Looked at his manifest. Looked at Sisyphus again.

"No," Charon said.

"What?"

"You're not supposed to be here."