Maiden Grim | A Pjo Fanfic

Ch. 21: *Sniff* What Smells Like Barbecue?

Being a demigod is lovely. You get chased around by murderous monster all your life, treated like servants by the gods, a neglectful parent, ooo-and the best part, dreams about unfathomable horrors. Apparently, children of Underworld deities have especially juicy dreams, according to Clovis and Alabaster. Isra never asked about that tidbit of information so you can guess how terrible she looked after every night.

Ever since receiving that prophecy from the Oracle, it seemed like her dreams were more turbulent than before. Isra would twisted scenes of people she knew and those who were strangers. She was sure there were some scenes she recognized. Things that happened already, but they were so odd and full of bullshit symbolism it was hard to be entirely certain.

The dream she had on the first of May was one of the most interesting though.

It all starts in darkness. Cool, swarming shadows clung to her. Casting feather-light touches against her skin. There's nothing scary about this place. Isra has never feared the dark. And this is not what drives her from sleep.

In the distance is flame. A speck of light barely visible amongst shadow. And that's when Isra starts walking, straight toward it. The closer she gets, the hotter the air burns. The lighter the world becomes. She sees things against her squinted eyelids. Monsters and gods and heroes. And when Isra reaches the fire and peers into its golden flames. The first thing she sees is a girl. Her red curly hair tucked into a hoodie and freckle face stained with paint.

Then her face twists and another redhead appears. A woman with pale skin and dark shadow under her haunted eyes. Her hair flows like liquid flame, spilling from the shroud over her head. Her mouth moves, forming words but no noise.

Isra tried reading her lips. And she swore the woman was saying one thing: His due shall be paid.

The flames burst outward, burning her skin and Isra screamed, but the sound was seared and stifled deep in her throat. The darkness had disappeared, and she stood inside a house before a bed. In a child's room. The walls were painted pale-blue with dragons and pegasi soaring through white clouds. Gentle multi-color bulbs of light floated about the ceiling, filling the space with a soft illumination.

There was a child in the bed.

Tucked beneath the covers, their form was obscured as they slept peacefully. All Isra could see was a mop of light brown curls. Strands of hair glittered almost golden in the light. Her breath caught. Dread seized her heart. Isra reached for the covers with a too big hand and too long arm. And when she pulled them back, the child's form scattered into dozens of snakes. They leaped out, snapping at her face with venomous fangs.

Isra jerked back and collapsed onto the floor. But when her back was meant to hit hardwood, it fell through into shockingly cold water. The snakes followed. Their jaws piercing her skin and long writhing bodies strangling her limbs and torso. Pain flowed through her veins, their venom running through her body and numbing her muscles. They seemed to tug her down and down. Deeper into the muck where the light could not reach.

Just when her lungs seemed to run out of air, Isra resurfaced. Her whole center of gravity going for a loop. Underneath was solid ground. She struggled for air when two pairs of hands lifted her from the bricked pavement. She wiped the water from eyes and blinked at the sudden brightness of day.

Isra reached for pull back her long hair on instinct but found that she somehow gotten a new haircut in this dream. It was sheared short; a couple inches above her shoulders.

"Do you get what you needed?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

She turned and gasped.

An Asian teenage boy stood at her right. He looked older than her by a year or two. He was lithe, wearing light-leather armor for speed in battle. His black hair gleamed like oil even in the subtle sunlight. Over his left was a black eye patch. But that wasn't what shocked Isra.