House of Hades

XII-- Annabeth

Disclaimer: Don't own PJO or HOO. Rick Riordan does.

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XII-- Annabeth

Annabeth was feeling weird.

On 'three,' they had jumped into the swirling votex of fog beyond the open gates.

The feeling was something like riding a rollercoaster of death that was zooming past at 250km/hr. Her skin felt like it was being ripped off her face, and she could feel the resistance of the wind whipping her skin. All she could see were random flashes of colours; they were moving too quickly for her to see anything properly. Jumbled conversations were spinning around her head, ringing in her ears; voices of those that had gone through these gates before her. The air was thick with a musky smell-- the smell of blood and rotting corpses; the smell of death.

She didn't know what was going on, and that wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling for anyone, especially a daughter of Athena. Children of Athena never, ever not know what was going on.

Throughout all of this, she felt the reassuring warmth of Percy's hand, squeezing hers for comfort.

She squeezed his hand back, just to let him know that she was still there with him.

When she closed her eyes and cleared her mind, she found that she was experiencing various emotions at once-- fear, anger, sorrow, happiness, excitement, and just plain boredom. But she realized that these feelings weren't hers.

An image of her own face appeared in the back of her mind, and then she knew that somehow, she was feeling whatever Percy was feeling. Maybe kind of like reading his mind, or something.

Without warning, she was pulled away from the swirling vortex swallowing her and plunged into some sort of other world. She realized that she was in Percy's mind-- in one of his memories to be exact.

Percy was sitting down on his bed inside the Poseidon cabin.

He was feeling confused, sad, and angry at the same time.

What on earth was going on?

He had woken up in some infirmary at some camp, with a blonde-haired girl feeding him something delicious, and a man with eyes everywhere on his body.

An old teacher-looking guy came in, and Percy realized that it was Mr. Brunner, his Latin teacher at school; except this Mr. Brunner was a horse from the waist down.

He had been taken to the 'Big House' to see the camp's director, who was apparently a god-- Dionysus, the god of wine, actually.

Then he had been told that the Greek gods really did exist, and that he was a 'demigod,' the offspring of a god and a mortal.

He was scared, and the only thing he wanted to do right now was to see his mother, but she had been killed by a bull-man.

The girl from the infirmary walked into his room.

She was probably his age, maybe a couple of inches taller, and a whole lot more athletic looking. With her deep tan and her curly blond hair, she was almost exactly what he thought a stereotypical California girl would look like, except her eyes ruined the image. They were startling gray, like storm clouds; pretty, but intimidating, too, as if she were analyzing the best way to take him down in a fight.