Blood of Olympus

VII-- Hazel

Disclaimer: Don’t own PJO or HOO. . . Rick Riordan does. . .

Hey, guys!

You can’t say that this is a late chappie because I never promised a due date!

Buuuut, sorry, though—for not posting in such a long time. . .

It’s just—S C H O O L! :(

I hope that you guys understand. . .

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TheDarkAngelsWings!

Thank you for reading and commenting! I’m so glad that you liked my version of Nico! :)

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VII—Hazel

Hazel stared.

That’s all she did—stood there, frozen—just stared.

She felt like she should be doing more, though—sobbing, screaming, pulling out the silver arrow that was lodged in her brother’s stomach.

But she found herself with no reaction, gaping, open-mouthed at the spastically flickering Iris-message in front of her.

She figured that she was probably in shock.

And in shock she was, because even when she locked eyes with a frenzied Nico, she still hadn’t been jolted out of the paralyzing spell that was keeping her captive.

Instead, her heart beat so fast within her increasingly tightening chest that she thought that she was having a heart attack.

Still unable to move, Hazel’s eyes flickered down to the sliver of metal that had pierced through the thin fabric of Nico’s thin gray tee-shirt.

He grimaced, and the facial expression stretched the ugly scar that ran along the side of his face.

His hands clutched at his stomach, and Hazel noticed with a numbing fear, the rose of blood that was steadily growing around the wound.

Nico’s eyes followed Hazel’s gaze down to the wound, his eyes promptly widening, before a bloody hand went flying to cover his mouth.

It was to no avail, however, as Nico’ body jerked sporadically and he whirled his head to the side to puke his guts out all over the cavern floor.

A sick, choking sound came from Nico as he gagged from the terrible taste of vomit in his mouth.

He opened his mouth to speak again, and with a stuttering breath, he managed a weak word.

“H—Hazel--”

Hazel suddenly felt weak, herself—and for the briefest of seconds, she wondered whether this was all a joke, whether some deranged god or the Fates were just playing some sort of ill-timed trick on her.

This—this isn’t f--funny, she thought.

And then, Great, I’m so terrified that even my thoughts are stuttering.

A shudder ran through Nico’s frail body.

His knees buckled, and the injured demigod was sent crumpling to the ground.