The mischievous gamer God

Hermes and Apollo were both slumped over their desks, completely drained. Apollo let out a tired groan and said, "Okay… that last call was insane. We had to save that lady by sending a frat house over to her place—and don't even get me started on figuring out which frat it was. Tracking down where she lived based on that was actually tough."

Hermes rubbed his temples and replied, "Tell me about it. That was work."

Apollo leaned back, stretching. "Then that jackass politician called in and tried to promote himself? I'm so glad we hung up on him. Like seriously—what's so hard to get about 'no free ads'? No exceptions."

Then Hermes leaned back in his chair, shaking his head with a crooked grin and raised eyebrows. "But that one guy that called—Murphy? He was pretty funny," he said, a chuckle escaping his lips despite the chaos.

He tilted his head, eyes wide with mock disbelief. "Even though—yeah—he did stupidly choose to call out the killer over the phone. Like, who does that?!" He waved a hand dramatically, imitating a phone gesture. "Hey, serial killer! Come find me! I'm the one taunting you! Genius move, Murphy."

Hermes snorted, rubbing his temple like he was still processing the absurdity.

"Still… I kinda hope he's all right," he added, softer now, his smirk fading slightly as his eyes narrowed with a flicker of concern. "Guy had guts. No brains, clearly—but guts."

It took them a few minutes to decompress and collect themselves while waiting for the next call. The air in the studio was quiet, save for the soft hum of equipment. After a bit, Hermes broke the silence.

"You know... while I've got you here, there's something that's been bugging me for a while," he said, glancing sideways at his brother. "Did you and Artemis make Sarah Winchester think her house was haunted? I mean, I know neither of you are big fans of guns, so… was it you guys? Come on, you can tell me."

Apollo blinked, then scoffed in disbelief. "What? No, that was all Artemis. I mean—damn, bro—she still drops by there to mess with that family. Doesn't take it too far, but just enough to scare the absolute shit out of them."

Hermes slammed a hand on the desk. "I knew it! Every time I've asked her about it, she's dodged the question!"

Meanwhile, outside the game, Hestia had just taken a bite of popcorn when she heard that. Her eyes widened as she dropped the popcorn bowl with a clatter.

"Artemis is doing what?! Ohhh, she and I are going to have a very long talk when this is over…"

Back inside the game, Apollo suddenly shivered. "Why do I have a bad feeling about something…? Eh, that's a problem for future Apollo."

Hermes perked up, glancing at the switchboard. "Caller on line one."

Apollo straightened instantly, putting on his smooth radio host persona. "Showtime." He picked up the phone and said with practiced charm, "Good evening, caller, and welcome to 189.16—The Scream—tonight's unofficial 911 stand-in. What's your name, and how can I help you?"

A young man's voice came through the receiver. "Uh, hey… my name's Eugene Stein, and I've got a heart full of love, Apollo. I'm calling into your show while I look up at the stars… to ask for your advice while I wait for her."

Apollo's interest was piqued at first—his soft side for romance flaring—but then reality hit him. He sat up straighter and said, "Kid, I'm all for giving romantic advice, but I really don't think tonight is the night. You shouldn't be outside right now. If you've been listening to the show, you know there's a serial killer on the loose. And during all that, you thought it was a good idea to invite a girl out?"

At Apollo's words, Eugene panicked slightly, voice faltering. "N-No! I mean… it'll be fine! The killer probably won't care about someone like me…"

He hesitated, then continued, "As for where I am… I'm at the heart of the Maize Maze."

Apollo blinked. "The Maize Maze?" he repeated, slowly. "As in… a maze… called The Maize Maze… in the middle of the night… completely alone… while a serial killer is stalking the town?"

Eugene, oblivious to the rising tension in their voices, replied, "Yeah."

Hermes slapped his forehead with both hands and groaned, "Oh my gods… this kid is so dead."

Apollo raised a hand to calm him. "Chill, Herm. We can save him. I hope."

Then, right on cue, they all heard it—the eerie, haunting sound of whistling coming faintly through the line.

Eugene gasped, full panic setting in. "No—no, no, no! This was supposed to be the best night of my life, not the last one!"

Apollo immediately sprang into action. "Okay, Eugene, breathe. Stay calm. I'm going to put you on hold for a minute while we figure out how to get you out of this, alright? Don't panic. Keep quiet."

He put the phone on hold, turned to Hermes with urgency in his voice. "What the hell are we going to do?"

Hermes began pacing, trying to think fast. "Okay, okay—we search the studio, right? He said he's in something called the Maize Maze. There might be info around the building."

Apollo nodded quickly. "Good call."

The two immediately began tearing through file cabinets and bulletin boards, hunting for anything useful. Then Apollo skidded to a stop at the front desk and let out a victorious shout.

"I got it, Herm! There's a freaking map of the entire Maize Maze right here!"

Hermes looked over, wide-eyed. "Well, that's fucking convenient."

Apollo set down the map, shut off the music, and leaned into the mic with steady urgency.

"Welcome back, everyone, to 189.16 The Scream. I'm your host, Apollo. I hope you all enjoyed that track. Now… let's see if we can help our young friend Eugene escape the Maize Maze."

He took Eugene off hold and said, "All right, Eugene, you're on."

Immediately, the sound of that eerie whistling returned, drifting faintly through the line. Apollo and Hermes tensed. Then they heard a frightened Eugene speak.

"I—I'm lost, Apollo. I just ran and now I don't know where I am... I'm at a crossroad, facing a tractor statue. There are hay bales painted gold on my right."

Apollo stared down at the map, tapping his fingers anxiously on the table. He studied it for a long moment before speaking with calm authority.

"Go left," he said decisively.

They heard Eugene take off running—his breath quick, panicked. His footsteps pounded against the dirt path. Then, he stopped.

"All right," Eugene panted. "I went left. Then I tried a right. There's a pig statue in front of me… and a creepy rocking horse on my left."

Apollo's eyes darted across the map again. He locked in on something and gave his direction sharply.

"Go backwards."

Eugene's footsteps resumed—but now they were joined by another sound.

A low, mechanical revving.

Hermes froze. "Is that a f****** chainsaw?!"

Apollo blinked and muttered under his breath, "Yes… yes it is. Great."

From the phone, Eugene shouted in pure regret, "God, why didn't I just invite her over?!"

Then he stammered, "Okay—I'm at a crossroads. There's a pitchfork statue up ahead. Which way?!"

Apollo looked down again, jaw tight, and said clearly, "Go left."

Eugene ran once more, footsteps frantic—and the sound of the chainsaw was still somewhere behind him.

"This is not how tonight was supposed to go!" Eugene cried, voice cracking. Then, while sobbing, he said, "I just wanted some love, man…"

Then he said, "There's a tiny barn in front of me… and a scarecrow behind me… nothing to my sides."

Apollo studied the map closely and responded, "Go right."

Eugene ran again, breath rasping over the line. "I can't run much more," he panted. "I just passed a corn silo..."

He paused, coughing, out of breath. "I didn't see anything else…"

The whistling returned—this time closer. And the chainsaw roared to life again.

Eugene, now more terrified than ever, begged, "Please—where do I go?!"

Apollo answered without hesitation.

"Go right."

Eugene took off again, shouting over the wind and his own nausea. "I'm gonna be sick—! I—I—I—I—I'm out!"

There was a beat of silence—and then a cry of joy.

"AAAAH! And—my bike's still here! Oh thank you, Apollo!!"

As he pedaled away as fast as he could, his voice echoed back through the phone one final time.

"I LOVE YOU, MOLLY!!"

Then the call disconnected with a click.

Apollo and Hermes dropped their heads to their desks, exhausted.

"Fuck," Apollo groaned. "That was worse than the last one."

Hermes, still catching his breath, muttered, "Yeah… it's getting more challenging."

Apollo put on some music and said let's take a coffee break as they both headed out to the hall to the coffee pot

Outside of the game, Tet sat back with a pleased grin and said, "They're doing very well. I'd say they've got this... but they're right about one thing—it is getting more challenging as time goes on."

Hestia smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Thank you for going easy on them, Tet."

Tet turned his head away from her with exaggerated innocence and said flatly, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Hestia's grin only got wider. She leaned in with mock suspicion and said teasingly, "You and I both know you could have made it harder on them."

Tet let out a dramatic sigh, finally turning back toward her. "Fine. Yes—there were worse challenges I could have given them. And yes, I do want them to succeed. But I also wanted them to have fun. So I didn't give them something so easy that anyone could beat it on their first try."

His voice grew more sincere for a moment as he added, "After all, as the God of Games, it's important to me that the people who play my games actually enjoy them. I'd do the same no matter who it was—even if it's someone I don't particularly like."

He paused, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes.

"Unless, of course... they're completely evil. Then I'm hitting them with everything I've got and making damn sure they fail. Like Ares."

Hestia blinked. "Wait—what?"

Tet smirked. "Oh, I've got something very special planned for Ares. And all I can promise on that front… is that he won't die."

A beat.

"Maybe."

Hestia chuckled nervously, trying to play it off with a strained smile. "I'm going to trust you on this, but please don't kill my nephew. He may be an ass... and a battle-hungry psychopath… and an all-around rude person... and a warmonger… and—"

She blinked. "I completely forgot where I was going with this."

She shrugged, exasperated. "Bottom line—please don't kill my nephew."

Tet crossed his arms and said with a smirk, "Fine. But he's still getting his butt kicked. And nothing—not even you—can stop that from happening."

Hestia raised a finger. "Stop you? I want front row seats when it happens. And there better be snacks."

Tet looked at her in pure surprise. "You want to watch?"

Hestia threw her hands up. "Three thousand years of him being a jerk would make anyone mad—even me."

Tet burst out laughing, nodding in approval. "Okay, okay! I'll save you a seat when the beatdown begins."

He turned his attention back to the monitor and grinned. "Now—let's get back to watching. The next call is coming soon."

Hestia happily grabbed more snacks, fluffed her pillow, and curled up in her chair

As they settled in, the screen flickered back to life.

As Apollo and Hermes returned to the studio and Hermes settled in at his desk, a call came in. He immediately said, "Call on line one."

Apollo picked up the receiver with his usual suave energy and said, "Good evening, caller, and welcome to 189.16 The Scream—tonight's stand-in for 911. You're on with Apollo."

There was a pause, then a slightly vulnerable-sounding female voice came through the line.

"Wonderful show tonight, Apollo," she said warmly.

Apollo grinned, eyes lighting up as he leaned in closer to the mic. "Thank you—that's wonderful of you to say! What's your name, caller?"

"Oh, my name's Dawn," she replied sweetly. "Do you think you could play my tune?"

Apollo chuckled. "Your tune? All right, let's hear it. What's the name?"

"It's 'Long Ride Home.' It'd be great to hear it again."

"All right," Apollo said, flipping switches and starting to sift through the records. "Coming right up."

"Thank you." And with that, she hung up.

Apollo scanned through the vinyls, but no matter how many times he checked, it was nowhere to be found. Frustrated, he called out, "Hey Herm, I can't find the record."

Hermes, lounging at his desk and sipping from a coffee cup, asked casually, "Are you sure? Did you check twice?"

"Yeah, I checked twice." Apollo furrowed his brow, searching again.

Hermes started poking around his desk, then pulled out a note with Tet's handwriting. "Ah, here we go… hey, Apollo—you're not going to find it."

Apollo blinked. "Why not?"

Hermes held up the note. "According to this little message from Tet, in the original story Peggy threw that specific record out the window because one of her coworkers was using the song to annoy her. Apparently, it's still laying outside in the street." He gave a half-smile. "Just play a different one for now."

Apollo stared in disbelief. "Are you for real?" Then he grabbed a different vinyl and spoke into the mic again, his voice calm but apologetic. "I'm sorry to our recent caller, but it appears that the song you requested is missing. You'll have to make do with this one tonight."

He dropped the needle and the track began to play. As soon as they went off-air, Apollo stretched back in his chair—only for Hermes to suddenly call out again.

"Caller on line one."

Apollo sighed and picked up the phone. Before he could speak, he heard panicked breathing—shallow, rushed.

"Apollo—oh, thank god! It's me again—Murphy."

Apollo sat upright. "Oh, yeah—hey Murphy. How's it going?"

Murphy's voice cracked with stress. "Aw, the killer got me, man. I… Why'd I ever trust a guy named Master. Robbie ?"

Apollo groaned. "I warned you, man."

Murphy cut him off, frantic. "Yeah, well, hindsight's 20/20, ain't it?" Then came a bitter, wheezing laugh. "Goddamn piece of—he came to the Gallows Creek Waste Disposal Plant, beat the hell outta me, man. Carried me inside and locked me in a dumpster! I got a flashlight but—" his voice shook, "—oh god. I smell smoke. I think he set the place on fire!"

Apollo's expression darkened. "Hang on, man. We're calling for help right now."

He looked at Hermes. "Herm—quick, call the fire department!"

"On it," Hermes said, already dialing. After a moment, his face fell. "Hi, I'd like to report a fire at the Gallows Creek Waste Disposal Plant. It's an emergency—wait, what do you mean your engine's down? You don't have a backup?"

He slammed the phone down, exasperated. "Damn it, Apollo—he slashed the tires to the town's only fire engine!"

Apollo threw up his hands. "What the hell is going on in this town?! What are we supposed to do now?"

Hermes glanced around his desk, then spotted something. "Wait… here we go. Looks like this was supposed to be the part where Peggy chimed in." He held up a printed list. "Tet left a note—it's got the information we need. Says here Peggy had several friends who live close to the plant. We can call one of them to go help."

Apollo nodded. "Okay, sounds reasonable." He turned to his right. "Oh, look, there's a map of the town over here."

Hermes read the list: "First one, Alex—lives on the corner of Haddonfield and Romero Street. Then there's Katherine—she's on the west end of Myers Lane. And finally, Jericho—east end of Myers, but he's apparently really old."

Apollo studied the map carefully. "Jericho's the closest—but the street leading to the plant is blocked from his side." After a tense moment, he pointed. "Call Katherine."

Hermes raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Yes. Do it."

Hermes made the call. After a few minutes of fast-talking, he hung up. "All right, she's on the way. They'll call from the plant—you can guide them once they're inside."

Apollo nodded. "Let's hope this works."

Time passed slowly. Then—

"Caller on line one," Hermes announced. "It's Katherine—and Murphy's still on too."

Apollo grabbed the line. In the background, flames crackled and roared.

"Katherine, are you there? Is everything all right?"

Katherine's voice cut through the static, fierce and urgent. "The whole damn building's up in smoke! Goddamn it—I'm going in."

Hermes blinked, impressed. "Damn. This chick's braver than most demigods. No hesitation at all."

"Ah—my reception's crap in here!" Katherine coughed. "God, my eyes sting—Apollo, please, tell me where to go!"

Apollo looked at Murphy. "Murphy, can you see anything at all?"

"Yeah… I got a little flashlight. I see bottles, cans… some newspapers."

Hermes leaned forward. "What does the newspaper say?"

Murphy squinted. "It's the Henderson Headline."

Katherine's voice crackled again. "What was that? Reception's terrible in here…"

Apollo barked, "Head to recycling!"

"Recycling, got it!" She bolted forward.

A moment later she called out, "The path splits here! I can go to shredding or crushing—what now?"

"Murphy, do you know where you are in the plant?"

"I'm in a dumpster, man! What do you want from me?"

Apollo clenched his jaw. "Murphy—put the phone's receiver up to the lid!"

"All right, is that good enough?"

They heard a deep, mechanical grinding noise.

Apollo's eyes lit up. "Catherine—go to crushing!"

"Okay! It's super loud—and we're almost outta time!" she yelled, coughing as she ran. "There are three dumpsters here: one for Gallows Creek Council, one for Henderson Disposal, and one for Quiet Ridge Municipal!"

Hermes jumped in. "Henderson Disposal! He's in that one!"

They heard a metal clang, and Katherine cried out, "I found him!"

Murphy gasped. "Thank god! Let's haul ass!"

Then came the sound of running footsteps—followed by a sudden crash.

"It's coming down!" Katherine shouted.

"OH SH—" Murphy screamed.

Then—nothing. Only the crackling of fire filled the air.

Several seconds passed. Tension built.

Then—

"We made it!" Katherine said, out of breath but alive.

"Oh man… you guys saved my life," Murphy said shakily. "Thank you—thank you. I swear, I'm gonna raise my son Fernando to be like you!"

Hermes snorted. "You don't want to do that."

Apollo flipped him off, chuckling.

"And I'm getting my money back from Master Robbie!" Murphy shouted.

"Definitely do that one," Hermes said.

Apollo's voice softened. "Just get home to your kid, okay? And maybe—don't challenge any more serial killers to fights."

"Will do, Apollo."

Apollo hung up and leaned back, exhaling. "Whew. We did it."

Hermes chuckled. "If I weren't already a god, this might not be a bad job to have."

Apollo smirked. "Hey, if we're good at it—maybe our kids would be too. They inherit most of our skills, and, for some reason… a good chunk of our personalities."

Hermes tilted his head thoughtfully. "You know, I've never understood how that's possible. I get that there's some divine or magical shenanigans going on—but still. Kids usually take after the ones who raise them, not just the ones who made them."

Apollo shrugged. "I stopped questioning it. Let's just chill before the next call inevitably comes in."

They leaned back, letting the soft hum of the studio music fill the space.

Outside the game, Hestia sat beside Tet, watching the screen.

"How much longer do they have anyway?" she asked curiously.

Tet, fingers steepled, smiled. "They're about halfway through. Shouldn't be much longer."

Hestia looked at him fondly. "It's nice of you to keep giving them information like you have been."

Tet shrugged, grin still present. "I kind of have to. Otherwise it wouldn't be fair. Some of the calls require knowledge only Peggy had. I didn't think about that when I made Hermes take her place… but I don't regret it." He leaned back. "They're having more fun playing together than they would've if either of them played alone."

Hestia giggled. "That's true." She looked at the screen. "Let's wait and see what happens next."

And they returned their focus to the game.