(REWRITING) 𝓖𝓸𝓵𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓬 | 𝐏𝐉𝐎¹

five, four teens on a quest

     "Destroy them," a voice whispered in the girl's ears. Sheila yelped, her insides turning. "You know you want to."

And that was terrifying. Sheila couldn't deny the voice was right, but the agony overtaking her senses was more significant than her hunger for revenge. Her hands moved over her ears, trying to block out the storm, the fighting, Percy's questions, everything. It wouldn't take much more for her to lose it completely.

     But suddenly, the sand that glued her down split. Percy was the first to slip into a crevice. His screaming was nothing but a whisper. Sheila stared beneath her feet, and soon enough, she had joined the boy in the centre of the earth.

. • ° ✧ . • °

     An itching sensation was the first thing Sheila felt when she woke up. Her entire body was on fire, the pain barely bearable. Sheila would have probably groaned and demanded ambrosia if she wasn't used to it. She didn't have to, though, as Michael was soon by her side and making her drink nectar with a block of ambrosia. The pillow behind her back helped ease the discomfort caused by the rough texture of the headboard, yet Sheila felt as if every sensation had been intensified.

The covers were quickly thrown off her legs as she went into a spiral of panic. Michael's voice sounded too much like the one in her dreams, the laughter echoing around her. Sheila never coped well with her nightmares, but this particular one had destabilized the girl. It reminded her of a threatening promise, reassuring her that the voice was far from done with its unknown plan.

     Flames sparked at Sheila's fingertips, the wind picking up outside. It rattled against the windows, the infirmary growing colder. Michael tried to make Sheila understand she escaped the nightmare, but she wasn't responsive. Her hands covered her ears to block out the noise she couldn't register properly. The floor under her feet felt too rough, and the bandages protecting her wounds itched. The unstoppable laughter was the worst of it all. It was repetitive, loud and familiar.

Another voice then called her name. Hooves hit the ground, and Michael sighed in relief when his friend finally came back from the cage that was her head. Chiron sent him a worried look, but the boy focused on Sheila as he helped her back onto the bed. She grasped his hand, her grip tight, but Michael didn't complain.

     "Shei, it's okay," he whispered. "If I'd known you'd wake up like that, I would've asked for Charlie."

"No," she quickly replied. "Don't worry him, I'm fine. It just felt... too real." Sheila shivered, flashes of her dream replacing the walls of the infirmary. "Why am I here?"

     Chiron then made his presence known. "Sheila, do you remember what happened during Capture the Flag?" he asked, not yet mentioning her panicked state.

The girl frowned, eyes narrowing. "The hound," she recalled. "I know I killed it, then Jackson got claimed by Poseidon. After that, nothing."

     "Michael, you should go help Will with the Hermes cabin," Chiron told the boy, who got the message and left, but not before squeezing Sheila's hand reassuringly. "You passed out after the fight, Sheila. It has been two days since then."

"Two days?" Sheila exclaimed. "H-how?"

     Chiron walked closer to the bed. "Your wounds were deep, but luckily, Michael managed to close them with Lee's help. I suppose you used too much magic, and your body couldn't handle it. I've seen this happen with Bonnie."