The Rise of Gaea

Percy 19

****** song credits go to fun. ******

     "There they are." Percy pointed through the fog, distance, and crowd of monsters to the pair of freestanding elevator doors.

     Getting out of the Mansion of Night hadn't been too difficult; all Percy'd had to do was follow his senses. There had been no sign of Annabeth.

     "How are we going to get through that?" Luke asked.

     Percy examined the crowd. There was hellhounds, cyclopes, Earthborn, empusae, Arai, drakons, harpies, and tons of other monsters Percy had never seen (or wanted to see) before. As for Tartarus, Percy could see with a shiver that the hill on which the Doors stood was a glowing, pulsating heart. Rivers of veins and arteries bulged under the bristly skin.

     The sight made Percy feel sick.

     "We need a plan." He said. "I don't think I can control them all."

     "No, that wouldn't work. There's too many of them." Luke agreed.

     Percy stared thoughtfully out. This was where Annabeth shone, coming up with genius battle strategies and cunning moves.

     Percy pressed his lips tightly together. Missing her was even worse now, knowing that she didn't do the same.

     What had happened? Annabeth's personality had completely changed. And why hadn't Luke been able to see her? Had he been cursed, too?

     Tartarus was confusing enough without these extra mysteries to solve. Percy just hoped that when he found Annabeth, he'd be able to apologize, and she'd be able to explain.

     Maybe it would be smarter to just accept that she'd moved on, but Percy didn't always make the smart choice. Annabeth was his life, and even her complete rejection couldn't change how he felt about her.

     As Percy contemplated, an idea slowly rose to the forefront of his mind. It was reckless, risky, and completely stupid; meaning it was absolutely perfect.

     He told it to Luke, imagining Luke's eyebrows slowly raising at the audacity of the scheme.

     "Are you sure?"

     "It's the best shot we have." Percy stretched. "Do you think you can do it?"

     "Of course I can, the question is, can you?"

     "I have to, don't I?" Percy strode forward. "Let's go." He launched himself into the throng, hoping Luke had his back.

          "Some nights I stay up cashing in my bad luck, some nights I call it a draw."

     He willed the monsters nearest to him to turn on the ones farther away, creating a protective barrier around him.

          "Some nights I wish that my lips could build a castle, some nights I wish they would fall off."

     He could hear Luke behind him, slashing at any monsters that got too close.

          "But I still wake up, I still see your ghost, oh lord I'm still not sure what I stand for."

     A cyclops ripped off an empusae's head.

          "What do I stand for?"

     An Earthborn pulled a harpy out of the air.

          "What do I stand for?"

     A terrifying creature with spikes and spines and warts stabbed at a hellhound.

          "Most nights, I don't know, anymore..."

     They were almost halfway there, and Percy was growing tired.

          "This is it, boys, this is war.

          What are we waiting for?

          Why don't we break the rules already?"

     A drakon snarled at him, and Percy sliced it's head off without breaking stride.

          "I was never one to believe the hype, save that for the black and white, I try twice as hard and I'm twice as liked but here they come again to jack my style..."

     Percy's limbs were shaking, but they were almost there.

          "And that's alright.

          I found a martyr in my bed tonight.

          She stops my bones from wondering just who I am..."

     They were so close...

          "Who I am..."

     Almost there...

          "Who I am..."

     Percy could almost touch the Doors; his heart was in his throat (which made it hard to sing).

          "Oh, who am I?"

     Suddenly, a swirling vortex stormed beside them, growing in size until it towered over them like a New York skyscraper. A horrible being formed, made of the tortured faces of monsters; their souls whipping around like the inside of a blender. The being was male, and grotesque; horrifying; to the point where looking at him made Percy feel as though his eyes would pop out and run away screaming.

     It was worse even than Typhon, and Percy had wondered if he would go insane from staring at Typhon for too long.

     There was only one being in Tartarus who could be so powerful, Percy realized with a limp feeling in his limbs.

     This was Tartarus himself.