His Dark Side (Edited Version)

Chapter Nine: Regret

All that was running through Percy's mind was 'Annabeth' on loop.

He had to find her and get her out. Even as he followed the Harpy, there were no thoughts about it possibly being a trap or how Annabeth had even gotten down here to begin with. There was no logic- Just Annabeth.

"S-She's in here," the Harpy stuttered, pointing at the door and backing away. "I-I can go now, right?"

"Not until I see her," Percy snapped, pointing to the ground. "Open the door."

The Harpy was shaking, but he didn't care. It was a monster. They'd tried to kill him, they'd killed and maimed his friends. If Percy didn't get remorse, neither did they.

Percy watched as the Harpy used her talons to pull open the door. As soon as she did, there was a loud click and a dagger impaled her in the chest. She choked, bringing her disgusting claws to her chest and trying to get the knife out, but they weren't nearly as articulate at hands. Percy scowled, shoving her to the side as he looked for her, but it was just an empty room with a tripwire and dagger. "Should've known. Where is Annabeth?"

"S-She's not down here!" The Harpy squawked, blood splattering down her mouth. "It was a trick! She's wherever she was last! Please, have mercy, help me!"

Percy stared the Harpy down, watching as she tried to pull the dagger out, frowning. "No," he replied simply, walking past her and towards a window he could see at the end of the hall. She choked on her own blood, and eventually, Percy heard the sound of a body falling behind him. He sneered as he examined the window, looking at his hands. "I wonder if I can shapeshift. Mm."

He closed his eyes, focusing on what he wanted to turn into. Something small so he could slip through the gaps of the barred window, but not so small it would be difficult getting there or changing back to his original form.

A small bird- A barn swallow happened to be the first animal he thought of. He imagined his body changing, shrinking and adapting to his will to be another form. After a minute of solid concentration, he could feel his body changing form, his bones shrinking and moving, his feet growing talons. When he opened his eyes once more, he was much smaller, resting on the floor at about three inches tall. He experimentally flapped his wings, feeling himself rise up, wind rushing under him. He felt surprisingly free and darted towards the window, closing his wings on time to barrel between the bars and fly through the smokey sky with air that burned his lungs, but despite that, it was wonderful.

He fluttered around for a while, experimenting with the limits before coming to rest on a bolder jutting out of the ground, willing himself to change back to his human form.

'Split,' part of him whispered as he blinked. Split what?

'Split,' a second voice agreed. He panicked slightly, but before he knew it his vision blacked out, his body hitting the ground.

x

When Percy came too once more, his head was throbbing. Being one with the other part of him... It was something he'd never do again. He had a major headache, and everything seemed to be blurry and far away.

He tried to recall what happened. Where was Annabeth? Had he found her?

Uncomfortable chills went down his spine as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Slowly, he started to remember, and, horrified, he pulled his hands away from his body, opening his eyes. He was covered in blood.

His hands were shaking as horror ran through his mind. He'd killed. He'd killed so many things. Blood was absolutely caked on him, all over his hands, up his arms, his shirt, jeans, everything was soaked. As soon as he realized this, he leaned over the edge of the boulder and retched, elbows digging into the stone as bile forced it's way from his stomach and out his mouth. He was shaking, body already weak from throwing up once, but his body wasn't done. He threw up twice more before he ran his hands through his hair and found a chunk of flesh clinging to his hand that had been tangled in his hair, to which he threw up again. There was nothing coming out except stomach acid at this point, burning his throat and making his eyes water as he sobbed. He sobbed for his friends, for himself, for his throat. He sobbed for his future, for his mother and his unborn baby sister, he sobbed for everything, sitting on that boulder, covered in blood and flesh as he recalled every vile killing he had committed in the last hour, every scream and screech as he brutally slaughtered anything that stood in the way of him finding Annabeth.

And then she wasn't even there.

Pathetic, a voice told him, talking down at him for even existing. You deserve to rot. You killed and hurt so many and you didn't even find Annabeth. Such a fucking failure. You disgust me; you disgust everyone. Go fucking die, you worthless piece of shit.

He hugged his arms to his chest, rocking himself back and forth as he sobbed for what felt like hours.

He needed to apologize to Annabeth.