Dark Waters

Entry 3: Walk of Life

Walk of Life

Won
Wonder
Wander
Wan

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Entry 3:

Today was satisfying. It was the first time I came face-to-face with my reputation. Some dare devils sailed out to the dark waters where mortals have rumored to be the place of inescapable death. I heard many teasing quotes about being inevitable. Too late did they learn the truth behind their mockery.

I took pleasure in sinking each ship as they dared to enter the dark waters I now consider home. They all fell victim to my malicious waves. I watched as the mortals sunk deeper until I pushed their lifeless bodies away from the wreckage. Perhaps it was pride that made me send their bodies ashore for their loved ones to find.

I have won their fear. Sailors envision my dark waters when they sleep at night, wondering if I will target them next. Those who are foolish enough to cross me will drown in the depths of liquid ice, their last memory will be me, staring coldly into their souls.

I wonder if I could expand my control. I did not need more power. I had enough. And people who underestimate me never live to say otherwise. But it was an interesting thought. Maybe I would seek out more territory just to escape my boredom.

That is what has me wandering the ocean depths. If not for my powers that allow me to "see" the currents move, I could not find my way around. As it happens, my mortal eyes ended up adjusting to the endless darkness. I still cannot see well, but I can differentiate shades of darkness. The hues themselves escape me, but there is depth perception.

If I spend enough time out of Apollo's rays, I may become wan. It is hard to believe since I keep up a daily routine of exercise. Enough so that my body composition does not deteriorate. But perhaps a quick, discreet trip to the surface is in order. More on that later.

Now is the cliché time that may mark me as a villain. I've caused so many deaths at this point. Other villains have a tragic back story that they could not overcome. I am the exception.

I had the predictable tough childhood. The abusive household. The neglectful adults. The manipulation of others. None of those things deterred me from the straight and narrow. I still became the hero. I was the person everyone looked up to.

Sure, you could say Tartarus made me insane or pushed me over the edge. But even that is untrue. I lasted at least a year afterward in the same hero role. I did good in my life. I did not become irascible even after all my trials and tribulations.

So it boiled down to what I wanted to do, who I wanted to become. And I did not see myself as the hero any longer.

Or maybe I still am the hero. Except this is the tragic ending all heroes get. Where I fall from grace and the good name I once had. Maybe I will pull a Castellan and redeem myself at the last minute. Or kill myself to escape responsibility for my actions. It worked out for him, did it not?

It matters little now. I will only be known by the stories others tell. The names others give me. The Lightning Thief. The Hero of Olympus. The Supreme Lord of the Bathroom.

What matters is perspective. And I choose my own. My walk of life has diverged from the epic it once was.

Until I find my words again,
Percy Jackson

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