Revenge of the Wraith

Chapter Seven

The moon hung low over the horizon, casting a pallid glow over the grim fortress. Annabeth, Thalia, and the rest of the Hunt of Artemis stood at the edge of the forest, eyes trained on the imposing structure before them. Six weeks of relentless travel had brought them here, to the stronghold of those who had taken Percy. Annabeth's heart pounded with a mixture of rage and desperation. She tightened her grip on her sword, the blade gleaming in the moonlight.

"Move out," Artemis commanded, her voice a whisper carried on the wind. The Huntresses moved as one, a silent wave of deadly grace. They reached the outer perimeter without a sound, their presence undetected by the mortal guards who patrolled the grounds.

Due to the likely good of mortals, the hunt changed out all of their weapons for silver. Due to the metal's lethality against all mortals and immortals, it seemed like the best choice.

Annabeth was the first to strike. She moved with a fury that bordered on madness, her new silver dagger slicing through the air with lethal precision. The first guard barely had time to register her presence before he was cut down, as she drove her blade into his skull his blood pooled on the ground from various other injuries. She didn't pause. Her blade found its next target, and then the next, a whirlwind of vengeance that left no room for mercy.

The mortal men who stood in their way were no match for the ferocity of the Hunt. The guards fell one after another, their choked screams echoing through the night. Thalia's new spear crackled with electricity, each strike sending arcs of lightning through her foes. She fought with a ruthless efficiency, her eyes cold and determined. Beside her, Artemis was a blur of silver, her arrows finding their marks with unerring accuracy.

Annabeth's movements were almost frenzied. Her strikes were quick and brutal, her mind consumed by a single thought: finding Percy. Her rage was a palpable force, driving her forward with relentless determination. She didn't see the faces of the men she killed, didn't hear their pleas for mercy. All she saw was Percy's face, his smile, his eyes, and the pain of his absence.

As they fought their way through the fortress, Thalia glanced at Annabeth, concern etched on her face. "Annabeth, are you okay?" she called, parrying a guard's attack and driving her spear into his chest.

Annabeth's eyes were wild, her breathing ragged. "I'm fine," she snapped, her voice edged with desperation. "Just keep moving."

They fought their way through the fortress, each sublevel presenting new challenges. The security grew tighter, the resistance more fierce, but nothing could stop the Hunt. They moved with deadly precision, their coordination flawless. Bodies littered the floors behind them, the scent of blood and ozone thick in the air.

Finally, they reached the final sublevel. Before them stood a massive set of steel doors, their surfaces gleaming with high-grade locks that made them impervious to immortal strength. Annabeth stared at the doors, her chest heaving with exertion and rage.

"We need to get through," she growled, her voice edged with desperation.

"These locks..." Artemis said, her voice filled with frustration. "They are steel. I cannot even dent this as an immortal. Only mortals can touch this."

In a burst of fury, Thalia stepped forward. "Out of the way!" she shouted, her voice crackling with the promise of a storm. She raised her spear, and a high-intensity blast of electricity surged from its tip, striking the doors with a blinding flash.

The steel groaned and twisted under the assault, and with a final, ear-splitting crack, the doors sheared off their hinges and crashed to the floor with a deafening thud. "That mortal enough for you?" she muttered angrily.

The room in front of them was large. It was almost designed as a failsafe in case someone needed to be contained. Annabeth ran in, soon followed by Thalia.

Inside the room, the scene was one of disarray. In the center stood a chair, ominous and foreboding, surrounded by disconnected tubes and broken vials. Annabeth's heart clenched at the sight. She moved to the chair, running her fingers over the straps and restraints, her mind reeling with images of Percy bound and helpless.

"What is this place?" Thalia muttered, her eyes scanning the room.

"Search it," Artemis commanded. "Find anything that can tell us where Percy has been taken."

The Huntresses spread out, their keen eyes examining every corner of the room. Annabeth's hands shook as she rifled through the debris, her frustration mounting with each passing second. Broken vials littered the floor, their contents long since evaporated or spilled.

They searched for ten minutes. And after the hunt gave up, Thalia and Annabeth searched for fifteen more. When Artemis was about to pull them out, Thalia stood up.

"Over here," Thalia called, her voice filled with urgency. She held up a small, dust-covered medical box, a single intact vial nestled inside. "I found something."

Artemis joined her, her eyes narrowing as she inspected the vial. "Cynthia," she called. "We need you."

A young Huntress stepped forward, her golden hair glinting in the dim light. She was a daughter of Apollo, her skills in medicine and diagnostics profound. She took the vial from Thalia, her eyes serious as she approached the equipment in the room.

Cynthia worked quickly, her fingers dancing over the controls. The machines hummed to life, their screens flickering with data. "It's blood," she said, her voice steady. "Percy's blood. He was here."

Annabeth's heart leapt. "Where is he now?" she demanded, her voice a mix of hope and fear.

Cynthia's brow furrowed as she tapped at the keyboard. The computer screen flickered, displaying lines of code and data. "I'm accessing the location records," she said. "Just give me a moment."

The screen flashed, and then, with a sudden, violent sputter, it went dark. Smoke curled from the monitor, the acrid smell filling the room. "No!" Cynthia cried, pounding her fist on the desk. "The system shorted itself out. Someone built in a kill-switch. I can't get the location."

Annabeth's fury erupted. She grabbed a nearby chair and hurled it across the room, the metal frame clanging against the wall. "No!" she screamed, her voice raw with anguish. She tore through the room, smashing equipment and scattering papers. Her dagger slashed through the air, cutting through cables and machinery with a savage ferocity.

"Annabeth, stop!" Thalia shouted, but Annabeth didn't hear her. Her world had narrowed to a single point of rage and despair. She ripped through the lab, her movements wild and uncontrolled. Glass shattered beneath her feet, the sharp fragments cutting into her skin, but she didn't feel the pain. All she felt was the crushing weight of failure.

Artemis moved to her, her hands gentle but firm as she caught Annabeth's wrist. "Enough," she said, her voice soothing but commanding. "We can't find him if you kill yourself here."

Annabeth's breath came in ragged gasps, her eyes wild with unshed tears. She sank to her knees, her blade clattering to the floor beside her. "We were so close," she whispered, her voice breaking. "So close..."

"We will find him," Artemis repeated, her gaze fierce. "We will not rest until Percy Jackson is safe."

As the Huntresses regrouped, the room lay in ruins around them, a testament to the fury and determination that drove them. Annabeth stood, "I will get him back." She proclaimed under her breath and ran out of the facility.

"Annabeth wa-" Thalia tried to stop her but Artemis stopped her. "Give her time. She may need a moment alone."

Thalia sighed. She had to stop her friend from her madness. As shown earlier, she no longer cared for her well being. Her only goal was to find Percy, and it was killing her.