Victorious

Carter

Carter officially became a vegetarian once he spent a minute in that hydra's stomach.

Why, you're wondering? Have you ever been in a hydra's stomach? I mean, there are enough bones in there to build a house. And I'm not even going to mention the way to the respiratory system. I've had to avoid it five times for what felt like the last hour.
I prodded with anything I could find in my tool belt- using items that ranged from a hammer to tacky glue- to try to break out. I wasn't Heracles. I know that. But I had to make do with what I had.
I took out a hammer and spun it, and it landed on the wall of the stomach but didn't make a difference.
Then, something else came down the esophagus. I didn't look. Probably some helpless civilian. But it landed with a scream and a big plop in its fluids, and I decided it was a person from it's scream.
"Sweet Mother of Hera-" someone said. Then, I heard them losing their lunch. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the smell, the fact I was in a stomach, and tried to think about what I'd do if I survived this stomach hole.
"Carter?" That person said. I turned and almost puked myself. It was Cleo.
She was covered in grime and dust from the hydra, her face flashing with anger.
"What is not clear to you about getting out of the car?"
"I almost did, but then I got stuck."
"Stuck?" She shook her head, her what used to be groomed brown hair but was now ratty and covered in slime, shaking along with it.
"What are you doing here?" I asked stupidly. That's the thing. The more I'm around Cleo, the stupider my comments get.
"I. Got. Swallowed! What is not clear about that?" She threw her hands up in frustration.
"I also came here to help you."
"So you willingly got swallowed by a hydra to help me?" I smirked. "Oh yeah, you're warming up to me."
She gave me a look. "What do you have in your tool belt?" Cleo asked.
"I don't know, like, average tool belt stuff?"
"Do you have tin foil, hairspray, bug spray and contact solution?"
I gave her a weird look and pulled out tin foil, hairspray, bug spray and my last bottle of contact solution. I winced as I handed her the contacts. "Could you not use all of that?" I asked. "That's the last bottle."
She looked at me like, really?
"Why do you want to keep it? It's not like you have contacts."
"Sure." I said absentmindedly. "Let's go with that."
"You wear contacts?" She said, surprised.
"What are you making?" I asked, looking over. She was spraying things inside the crumbled piece of tin foil and poured a lot of contact solution in.
"Do you have pop rocks?"
"You mean those weird mortal candies? Of course I do." I pulled them out of my tool belt and handed them to Cleo. In a swift movement, she dumped them into the tin foil and kneaded it together into a ball. She looked up at the esophagus and closed her eyes, hurling the tin foil ball on target, up at the esophagus.
I snorted. "What was that?"
She smirked, which was kind of creepy to see. "You'll see."
She unsheathed her sword and started cutting at the stomach, closing her eyes and muttering something.
"Well, don't stand there and stare! Go!" She yelled, going back to her muttering.
I took out an axe and swung it, cutting the stomach, almost throwing up for the second time. I closed my eyes, like Cleo, and plugged my nose. This will be over. This will be over.
I kept cutting until I reached the point I wasn't tall enough to cut. Then, as if on cue, the whole thing fell sideways, and the crack in its belly exposed the raw cement, dirt, and rocks, which I was beyond happy to see.
"Finally!" Cleo said, exasperated. "That took longer than it should!" She checked her watch. "10 minutes! Ugh." She looked at me. "Well, keep cutting!"
I did what she saw and when I opened my eyes, there was a complete separation between one half of the hydra and the other. I stepped out, face planting on the dirt and rolling in it.
"Dirt!" I yelled. "Dirt!"
Cleo stepped over me and said. "Ugh. Hey, where's Alex?"
"Dirt! Dirt!" I said, rolling even more. The dirt felt much more sanitary even though I was roughly aware I just rolled in an old cigarette.
"You're not helping." Cleo said. I didn't look up. He'd be fine.
"You two!" He yelled, stoning from somewhere. I didn't get up off the ground and didn't make eye contact or look at either of them. Being around Cleo and Alex together made me kind of mad, because Cleo seemed to like Alex or something. That never made me feel any better.
"What?" Cleo asked.
"Our plan would've worked! But it didn't. You know why? You where arguing like little kids! Carter, this is all your fault, you amateur jerk!"
I got up, frowning. Why he just called me amateur jerk, I didn't know. But it kinda hurt.
"What did I do wrong?"
"You weren't distracting the driver." He yelled. "You were arguing with Cleo."
"What?" Cleo said at the mention of her name, Cleo perked up from her spot on the ground. She was fiddling with her knife. She shrugged and went back to whatever she was doing.
"If you hadn't called her, what was it, sweetheart? This never would've happened. Why do you do that? Then you and her wouldn't have been swallowed, and we wouldn't have been in a situation with nothing!"
"We have nothing?"
"The driver left with our stuff. You're such an idiot!"
"Says you!"