The Blood of Olympus

Chapter Seven: Percy

Hey guys! Nice to see you again...well, i can't really see you, but you know what i mean. :D SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It feels like I haven't updated in FOREVER!!!!!!!!! :( I've had a few problems and stuff...yep, that's my lame excuse. I am honestly so sorry. But i aim to get 10 votes this chapter, 15 comments and 100 reads. The quicker I get these amounts, the quicker i will probably update. 

Sorry about that little rant! Anyway, here's the Percy (yay!) chapter!

Recap-

“Come into the caverns. Prove your worth. Prove your blood.”

Percy desperately wanted to refuse, but something told him he didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

“Tell me who you are first.” He said, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

The voices hissed with laughter. “We are the Daimones Proseoous.” They said. “And there is no escape from your fate.”

End of recap-

Percy

 Percy’s heart was beating faster than Arion. And that was saying something.

His hands shook and his insides churned violently as the lump in his throat expanded with fear.

Percy took a deep breath and tried to calm himself but the water surrounding him definitely wasn’t helping.

It’s just a stupid phobia; Percy repeated it in his head until he almost believed it.

Almost.

Was it natural of a child of Poseidon to fear his own element? Or was it just Percy?

Or was it something more sinister? Was Percy afraid of something else? Scared of drowning in his expectations as a child of the Big Three? Scared at failing?

Scared of himself?

Percy remembered a particular moment in Tartarus in the poison glade with Akhlys, the goddess of misery. That moment when anger out ruled any rational thought. The moment where Percy had lashed out using powers which he had no explanation for.

The moment where Annabeth had looked at Percy with fear- as if he were a stranger.

But something had not felt right since he’d woken up at the Wolf House around a month ago. All through the quest to Alaska he’d felt disconnected as if he wasn’t in charge of his own body. That feeling had increased on the way to Rome with the rest of the Seven. The Eidolons presence had made him even more disorientated.

The feeling had subsided when they were in Rome; especially in that vital moment where Annabeth was being dragged into the pit…

But that disconnection had definitely amplified during their journey through Tartarus. Percy had been practically useless while Annabeth protected his miserable podex. He felt as if he were a dead-weight throughout the whole entire quest. He could fail anytime and kill his friends. Just because he was too weak.

Rage boiled like lava in his chest, sending a shudder of adrenaline through his body, warming it to the bone.

The worst part? The anger satisfied him. He wanted to let out all this bottled-up fury and unleash it on everything; everyone who had mocked him, encouraged him, made him a hero.