νεκρός || Annabeth Chase x Fem!OC

Vol. 2-26: This one is also sad

TEMPEST

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

I told Annabeth to piss off for this part. [Stop hitting me!]

I've tried, many many manyyyy times to explain how holding up the sky felt. My experience is not able to be compared to Annabeth's. I'm not alive. I don't feel pain.

But I think holding up the sky was the most painful thing that has ever happened to me.

I didn't feel what Annabeth felt- that burning, stinging mess. She describes her experience as though she was liquified from the inside out, over and over and over again. [She just said, "Like my atoms were being split apart and reformed." I thought I told you to piss off!]

I didn't experience that.

My eyes widened at the shock of it. I couldn't feel pain, but it was... pressure. I knew the immense pressure of the task at hand. Glancing around, I could see that I was still holding the sky. Artemis was a blur of silver as she fought Atlas.

That was the last thing I saw.

My vision blurred, my mind unable to process what I was seeing. Images flashed in my mind of my previous existence, all out of order. My experiences were suddenly thwarted, in a way. An incorrect depiction of them. I heard a snapping sound and worried it was one of my limbs- worried everyone would find out I was dead- but they later told me that there was no snapping sound and none of my bones were breaking.

I recognized it as the snap I'd heard before Dionysus intervened with the manticore. The snap of my sanity being broken.

I felt downright delirious. Everyone tells me how weird it sounds when I describe me experience, but I kept thinking things like, Anne doesn't like kung pao chicken. I shouldn't make that for her. Or possibly, I think I forgot my dry cleaning. And, Percy's favorite, Jackson has lovely hair, doesn't he?

I pushed on, struggling under the pressure. I was getting weaker, I realized. Intangible. I was losing my strength, becoming the ghost I really was.

"Fight it!"

I looked over, my vision blurred. I could make out the blue outline of a dead girl- Bianca, I think- staring at me, but this girl looked too little to be Bianca. Her voice was higher.

"C'mon, fight it! Don't give up!"

A New Orleans accent.

My jaw dropped. I couldn't see the figure. I couldn't see much of anything. But I had a terrible feeling who that was.

"Rh-Rhi-Rhiannon?"

"Fight it!" The voice changed. I felt Bianca's hand on my shoulder, urging me on. "You have to hold it. Just a little longer, I swear."

I barely heard her words. All I could think about was my little sister. The ghosts of my family members had refused to talk to me for decades. No way that was my little sister... right?

I looked around, trying to focus my vision. I saw Artemis flying to Atlas, a blur of a silver hawk. Thalia and Luke screamed at each other, their blades clashing. Percy was back on his feet, roaring in rage as he and Zoe attacked Atlas from either side.