Persues jackson And The Soul Dragged From Heaven

1. Wake of the dead

Percy had no idea what was happening to him, one moment the world was an beautiful everlasting heaven, his mind wondering throughout the infinite time and space of heros within Elysium. That was until miraculously his body jolted rappidly and he was dumped within a black pit, he was hesitant unsure what had happened until he moved his hand.
Wait hand?
Yes he'd successfully been able to move his hand after days, weeks, years maybe of trying, he let out a breath but quickly gasps slowly noticing the world around him was incredibly small, his hands traced over the four walls holding him and he drummed his finger tips against the suprisingly low top, it felt like wood, molding wood, old. He began to panic.
It was a coffin.
Percys breathing hitched through the air as horrid thoughts entered his mind.
But more importantly how was he going to get out, he wasn't planning on dieing a second time.
Quickly he scavenged through his pockets praying to the Gods for hope, swiftly he pulls out a pen, Riptide.
Percy beamed brightly. However unaware of its colour and condition he knew it was rusty, corroded and almost useless since the lid of the cap groaned as he attempted to push it down with his cracked aching thumbs.
He knocked on the lid experimentally listening to it as it hit the soil above that stored him captive and couldn't resist the thought of Gaea corressing his goat eyed corpse which could at any moment collapse and flatten him from existence, his chapped lips and beady green eyes scanned for solutions, anything until he finally got an idea. He placed both palms onto the rim of the coffin commanding the water within the dirt beyond to come to assistance, however with each gush of energy he felt the movement of worms and wood Lise scavenging over the mire in search for their next meal making Percy shiver, however he focused more upon the situation at hand and collected as much as he could before morphing a sphere around his mouth and head, he grips his sword and to much struggle uncapped it, then he began hacking through the mud, soil and clay toward the surface.

Minutes? Hours? Percy had no idea how long he'd been fighting against the mud that flooded to his face, the water he used to hydrate himself and prevent the mud from gaging itself down his throat was mucky to the point he could barley spectate through. However the thought of seeing Annabeth drove him onward, the possibilities of her outer life were continuous, she could have died, survived, forgotten him.
No. She wouldn't forget him would she?
Finally just as he was about to give up hope he shot up a hand through the wet soil as a last beacon to taste freedom but was dumbfound when his fingertips poked out into an unusual material, it wasn't mud nor clay, nothing like that, almost like...air.

Quickly Percy clawed through the dirt, kicking his feet through the slushy mire and thrusts his head out of his forbidden black cave, he gasps for air and franticly dissolved the water around his head and heaves his arms from their cages snatching up heaps of grass between his slender like fingers and pulled himself out, he was panting heavily but he glanced up to the black hypnotic sky as tiny droplets or rain perched themselves upon his brown stained nose, the son of Poseidon notices he was in a sharp tux and felt the sharpened prick of a bow tie subsiding to his attention around his neck. Percy slithered from his hole dragging his unresponsive legs behind him as they refused to comply from exhaustion ignoring his attempts regularly.
Panting the boy squinted through his watery eyes trying to find out where he was, the rain intensified and he was stuck to suffer through it since no shelter was in eye shot, his body screamed for mercy, mercy from their creator, his vain's hummed for more blood, more energy as the harsh cold bullets thumped against his motionless body resembling death itself to a rotting corpse. However within the tight compaction of Percy's ribcage is held a still beating heart thumping it's music of life, the noise seemed to drum through Percy's ears constantly reminding him this wasn't a dream, that he lives, a few moments pass and Percy finally plucks up the energy to atleast attempt to move his raw sore legs, and when they did Percy let out a pained cry and spun onto his back shaking his pants, Wood Lise and worms pour out of his trousers like rats and slithered away into the wet mire and Percy stammers back in shock until his spine collided with a cold strong surface, a wall even behind him. Percy swiftly turns round ignoring the cramped muscles that cried for sleep. However Percy had no time to pry as he saw before him, his very own tombstone.