Percy Jackson and the Heroes of Olympus - the House of Hades

Percy VII

It was hard to look back. Watching Annabeth recount her own potential death tale was embarrassing and terrifying.

Percy felt like the most useless demigod in the history of demigods- and it wasn't the first time. If he had just cut the spiderweb in the first place, Annabeth wouldn't be in any danger right now. But he hadn't, and therefore she could possibly die at any moment.

Right now, Percy had one hand wrapped around Annabeth's waist, and the other holding Riptide. He felt whole with both these precious parts of his life in his palms. Confident and secure.

However, he may have felt confident right then, but Percy knew deep down they were in trouble. If he and Annabeth couldn't find any Iron Peridotite by what he assumed to be the morning, judging by his bodily clock, they would be in serious trouble. Percy's throat was already dry and parched, his healthiness rapidly losing it. He didn't tell Annabeth, but Percy had been using his own water supply to fuel hers. She was in an unstable state as it was.

He glanced over at her, worried. Her skin had become paler each day, her hair losing colour too. It was like the knob on the colour enhance dial had been turned down.

Percy took a moment to take in his surroundings; it was so bland and boring that he forgot where he was. It kind of reminded him of New Jersey.

The atmosphere was humid, and red. It was bizarre, he wouldn't usually describe an atmosphere by it's colour, but it just felt...red. There was no other way to describe it. A dim, ominous, bloody glow pored from cracks in cavern walls and seeped through deepened ridges, slippery with residue from...oh, Gods knows what, Percy thought. Actually, scratch that, the Gods don't even know. The floor was strange; when he and Annabeth had first laid eyes on it, and felt their shoes crunch on the gnarly surface, they had assumed the floor was bones. They had definitely been rounded and shaped. But after a moment of boredom waiting for Annabeth to wake up, he had dug around a little. And underneath, there were dozens of huge, giant tree roots, curled and overlapping each other like fringes of waves paused in motion.

The ceiling never ended; it was like a starless sky, its hands reaching up into empty nothingness, an empty charcoal easel. Or maybe Percy was just being sentimental, it was kind of lonely and desolate.

Right now, the twosome were hiking up a bony incline, every so often pausing to catch breathe. It looked as if something may be over this ledge, Percy thought.

"I hope there's something over this hill. This scenery is getting dull."

"Mhmm." Annabeth mumbled in response, her forehead beading with sweat from

It was hard to look back. Watching Annabeth recount her own potential death tale was embarrassing and terrifying.

Percy felt like the most useless demigod in the history of demigods- and it wasn't the first time. If he had just cut the spiderweb in the first place, Annabeth wouldn't be in any danger right now. But he hadn't, and therefore she could possibly die at any moment.

Right now, Percy had one hand wrapped around Annabeth's waist, and the other holding Riptide. He felt whole with both these precious parts of his life in his palms. Confident and secure.

However, he may have felt confident right then, but Percy knew deep down they were in trouble. If he and Annabeth couldn't find any Iron Peridotite by what he assumed to be the morning, judging by his bodily clock, they would be in serious trouble. Percy's throat was already dry and parched, his healthiness rapidly losing it. He didn't tell Annabeth, but Percy had been using his own water supply to fuel hers. She was in an unstable state as it was.

He glanced over at her, worried. Her skin had become paler each day, her hair losing colour too. It was like the knob on the colour enhance dial had been turned down.