♆The Exiled[PJO]♆

~Slaughter House~

~Percy~

He watched as the campers packed up their gear, readying themselves to get on the soon arriving bus, to then greet their parents that they will be staying with over the summer. 

He scowled, turning away from the window in distaste and instead distracts himself by staring at the lake, longing to go out and swim in it but somehow not being able to bring himself to do it, not just yet anyways. 

Soon enough Annabeth will enter his room, bidding him her goodbye's to then hop on a bus and go far, far away, where she will forget about him over the course of the holidays.  

Percy sat in thought for a good hour, thinking about what had come and what was too come, what lay in his future and in the future of others. 

But most of all he thought about death. 

In his mind he pictured a ragged body, blood pooling around their waist, his sword Riptide etched into the victims stomach. The victim lay on their side where you could see the tip of Riptide protruding from their back. 

However, Percy imagined no face, there was no way to completely identify this person, not just yet. 

Not until he found out who murdered his mother. 

~Annabeth~

"Percy?" Annabeth's tone is gentle as she stands at the entrance of his cabin, not daring to step inside until he says she is able to do so. 

"Annabeth." Is all he says, and although she cannot see him yet, Annabeth can almost guarantee he is lying on his bed, or staring at the lake. 

The sight she is greeted by is a rather disastrous one, tissues are piled on the floor like mountains, Percy's snot and tears being the only thing holding them together. Annabeth does little more than comment on them as she dodges pools of dirty clothing and more tissues. 

Percy doesn't move when she enters, he hardly acknowledges her at all. "The bus is about to leave." She coughs in order to grab his attention, but it doesn't work. 

Annabeth could hear her accelerated heartbeat through her chest as she walked towards him, her hands clasped tightly together to prevent her from reaching out and stroking his hair out of sheer habit. 

However, as she nears him, he begins to stand, swinging his lanky legs off the bed and using the bedside table beside him to keep balance. 

He remains silent and unmoving as she pulls him into an emotional hug, tears wet the neck of his shirt, and after a few silent minutes, Percy reluctantly hugs back, now relying on Annabeth entirely to hold him up. 

"Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone okay?" She gives a weak smile, her arms falling to her side as he manages to regain balance on his own. Annabeth's arms twitch, itching to wrap themselves around Percy once again, instead she patted her jeans out of nervousness. 

However, she knew he was too fragile to make any romantic moves like that, that he wasn't ready, because loosing his mother had taken a toll on his, and everyone in the camp knew it from the second they heard the news. 

Although, not all of them new, unlike Annabeth. They didn't know that he was the one to discover the body, and she only knew that because she had walked in seconds after. 

Percy had approached his mother with wobbly legs, his chest caught in his throat as he knelt down beside her, his warm hand falling softly on her cold skin. He placed his hand over her chest that didn't rise nor fall, that contains no beating heart. His tears splash onto her dress and as he kisses her forehead they rain down onto her closed eyes. 

A sob, like a crack of thunder in the silence, it echoes throughout the living room, ringing loudly in Annabeth's ears. She can only stare in horror from the living room entrance as Percy hugs his mother and screams. 

All she hears is his screams. 

~Tartarus~

Asleep in her somewhat of a home, Nocte shifts in her sleep, detached from all sense of reality, sadness prevailed among her moods. 

In her dream, she knelt in a pool of blood, not her own, it isn't red but almost black. She had closed the eyes. The horrified expression now gone from the face, replaced by a look of relaxation. The holes in the corpses skin told of a messy end, one that Nocte knew, of course. 

The victim had died after the second shot, the other thirteen had been needless, only for the killers own fulfilment. The body lay a few feet away from her, tossed aside in a misery of annoyance and mortification. 

The scene spoke of rage and hate, splatters of crimson red across the ground and no attempts to wash it off, a mutilated body with a face now unrecognisable, and a murderer amongst it all without a trace of guilt upon their face. 

Nocte took hardly any notice to the horror around her, instead her eyes were closed though not to shield them from the sickly sight. She had her eyes closed in prayer, to her sisters, her family, because she knows that they will not forgive her or understand why she did this. 

Therefore she will have a price to pay, and not in dollars. 

A/N

I can already tell this is going to be a very...dark...story....

Sorry it took so long to write, I was occupied with this cover challenge book I'm doing with Audie and Percy (it's on Percy's account and you should go check it out ;) ) 

:))

*salute*