Percy Jackson and the Olympians (Male Reader Insert)

We Go to Hell

Character Information:
(Y/N): Your Name
(L/N): Last Name
(H/C): Hair Color
(E/C): Eye Color
(H/L): Hair Length
(S/C): Skin Color
(F/C): Favorite Color
(F/F): Favorite Food
(F/D): Favorite Drink

(Y/N)'s POV

We stood in Valencia Boulevard, looking up at gold letters etched in black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.

Underneath, stenciled in the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING.

It was nearly midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and packed with people. Behind the security desk sat a guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

Percy turned to us. "Okay. You remember the plan."

"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan."

Annabeth said, "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"

"Then we're screwed, but try to think happy thoughts." I gave them a pained smile.

Percy patted my back. "He's right. Don't think negative."

"Right," Annabeth said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negative."

Percy took out the four milky pearls the Nereid had given him from his pocket.

I rubbed my head. "We're going to be fine, Perce. We've already survived too much crap to be stopped now."

Annabeth put her hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, you're right. We'll make it. It'll be fine."

She gave Grover a nudge.

"Oh, right!" he chimed in. "We got this far. We'll find the Master Bolt and save your mom. No problem."

Percy stared at us for a moment before putting the pearls back in his pocket. "Let's whup some Underworld butt."

We walked inside the DOA lobby.

Muzak played softly inside the lobby. I noticed that the people in here all looked transparent. Lovely.

We made our way over to the security guard's desk.

He was tall with brown skin and bleached-blond hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell sunglasses and an Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under the name tag.

Percy read the name tag. "Your name is Chiron?"

The guard leaned over the desk and said in a British accent, "What a precious young lad. Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"

"N-No."

"Sir."

"Sir," Percy added.

I studied the name tag intently. "I think his name is Charon."

He nodded his head. "Good for you, boy. I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you dead little ones?"

"We want to go to the Underworld," Annabeth said.

Charon's mouth twitched. "Well, that's refreshing."

"It is?" she asked.

"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No 'There must be some mistake, Mr. Charon.'" He looked us over. "How did you die, then?"

Percy nudged Grover.

"Oh," he said. "Um...drowned...in the bathtub."

"All four of you?" Charon asked.