Wildfires, Heroes of Olympus ₂

028, you thought it was over... ha

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
FINLEY                      BRIGGS

Finn thought the living world was miserable, but the Underworld was so much worse. She was bored almost instantly.

See, Finn was dead. She wasn't surprised she was dead. She was surprised she died this early, but she wasn't surprised she had actually ended up dying.

Gaea had said it herself. Finn was born to die—she didn't have a purpose outside of that. She tried making life count by drinking and partying and joking around with her friends, but none of that would've actually helped her out in the long run. She was born a Roman, and she died a Roman, and it was nothing more than that.

Sure, Finn was a little disappointed she was never able to turn around everyone's thoughts of her. Not only did she die a Roman, but also lazy, a nuisance, drunk, unserious, insane, a murderer, a disgrace, a humiliation, a lunatic, crazy, mad. Finley Briggs didn't even die Finley Briggs, in the end. She did not die a good person. She did not die sober. She did not die better. She was pretty sure she was more upset about that than anything.

(Although, dying at the will of her own gun was a close second. That was pretty aggravating.)

Finn didn't really want to be so spiteful in death, but it was the only emotion she found herself feeling. She didn't know why she expected not to feel anything in the Underworld. That certainly wasn't the case right now. She was dead, and she was bitter.

Finn died for a camp that had never even loved her. She died for Camp Jupiter and at the hands of Camp Jupiter. It just didn't seem fair—not when she hadn't even wanted to be at Camp Jupiter in the first place. If only the wolves hadn't found her. If only her mom hadn't killed herself. If only Finn had control of her insanity curse.

Born a Roman, die a Roman sounded more like born a tragedy, die a tragedy.

The desolate thoughts of hers were only made more desolate by all the dead souls riding along the river with her. They didn't speak, and if they did, it was sad and pitiful shit that made Finn want to hit them with something even more sad and pitiful. Oh, you died of natural causes? That must've been hard. I was shot in the neck by my own legion with my own gun!

Finn probably wasn't going anywhere good with thoughts like that. She couldn't help wondering where she would end up after her judgment.

There wasn't that big of a chance she'd end up in Elysium, even less of a chance for Isles of the Blest. What good had she done to deserve that? Try and win back an eagle then fail? Yeah, she was a real hero.

Still, Finn felt a little bit sad at that. She sort of wanted to be there. If she was, there was a chance her mom was there, too. Finn could tell Isla Briggs how truly sorry she was.