𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐑𝐇𝐈𝐂 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

06 - incarceration and finger-guns

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

REALISTICALLY, there's no bonding experience like running through a dark tunnel, hand in hand, from an unseen, bloodthirsty monster with no light beside the glow from your cursed hands. 

Silena, who had acted as Elia's therapist for the eleven years the blonde had been at camp, had told the younger girl that to feel good about her life, she should list one thing that was good before talking about something that was bad. 

So, a good thing about this left tunnel was that it was straight with no side exits, twists, or turns. But the bad news: it was a dead fucking end. 

Percy, who still had Elia's hand grasped tightly in his, looked to his Cyclops brother and panted, "Tyson, can you—"

The Cyclops nodded, slamming his shoulder against the rock wall in front of them so hard that dust fell from the ceiling. Elia looked behind them anxiously. She could hear whatever was chasing them, sounds of dragging footsteps and heavy breathing echoing down the corridor. 

"Hurry!" Grover urged. "Don't bring the roof down, but hurry!"

The boulder finally gave way with a horrible grinding noise, caving inwards. Tyson pushed it into a small room and the other four quest-goers dashed through behind it. 

"Close the entrance!" Annabeth shouted. They all got on the other side of the boulder and pushed, muscles straining. Whatever waschasing them wailed in frustration as they heaved the rock back into placed and sealed the corridor. 

"We trapped it," Percy offered. 

"Or just trapped ourselves," Grover said. 

Elia turned. They were in a twenty-foot-square cement room and the oppositewall was covered with metal bars. They'd tunneled straight into a cell. 

"I mean, I always knew I'd end up in jail, but I feel like this is a little too early." Elia sighed. Percy laughed, the sound echoing around the small room. 

"What in Hades?" Annabeth tugged on the bars. They didn't budge. Through the bars, Elia could see rows of cells in a ring around a dark courtyard—at least three stories of metal doors and metal catwalks. 

"A prison," Percy looked around. "Maybe Tyson can break—" 

"Shh," cut in Grover, his brows furrowed in confusion. "Listen." 

Somewhere above them, deep sobbing echoed through the building. There was another sound, too—a raspy voice muttering something that Elia couldn't quite make out. The words were strange, like rocks in a tumbler. 

"What's that language?" Percy whispered. 

Σκιά Αίμα, come. We are waiting. Elia froze, glancing around as if she could see where the voice was coming from. Annabeth frowned, walking over to her best friend, whose eyes were glazed— almost like she was in a trance. 

"Elle? You okay?" she asked gently, her words kind of snapping the blonde out of it. 

Elia forced a smile and shook her head, catching Percy's concerned glance. "Yeah, 'm fine Annie!"

What was probably going to be a protest from the dark-haired girl was cut off when Tyson's eye widened as he murmured, "Can't be."

Percy's brow cocked. "What?"

He grabbed two bars on the cell door and bent them wide enough for even a Cyclops to slip through. 

"Wait!" Grover called.