A PJO/MR Crossover (Sidenote: I wrote this story when I was 16. It is kind of cringey and cliche, so read at your own risk)
During a date with Annabeth after the Giant War, mysterious men kidnap Percy Jackson. Injured and near death, the two are ca...
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Percy POV When Dr. Mallory declared her work done, I was covered in multiple cuts and gashes. My body felt numb and weak, like all of the life had been sucked out with a tube. My legs were wrapped in pounds of gauze, putting immense pressure on the wounds and bleeding. The procedure of removing the bullets and injecting DNA had been strenuous; purposely grueling.
According to the evil bitch, the DNA serum could help heal me as long as it was activated by consistent bleeding. It was another excuse for cutting me open, to put it shortly. I could try describing how it felt when the sharp edge of a blade dug into my shoulder, or how my collarbone got sliced near the aorta. Whenever I try, I can't find the words. Because agony can't be made intelligible.
Dr. Mallory didn't talk much after the injection, which only produced an atmosphere of deafening silence. It was filled with the snap of bones breaking and skin splitting. Her ugly smile never faded from her face, like a true psychopath. I got to get up close and personal with every mole and wrinkle. If she was a goddess, Hera would've kicked her out of Olympus like Hephaestus.
It wasn't until what felt like a millennia when a familiar group of Erasers slipped inside.
"Great, even better," I mumbled.
"What did you say?!" The lead Eraser barked. They must've had good hearing, which made sense considering their wolf traits.
"Ari, cover up his head," Dr. Mallory ordered, talking to the the familiar leader. Ari had the same black hair and cruel eyes, replying in a gruff agreement.
Putting a piece of cloth over my head, the world became dark and eerie. The Eraser's carried me back to the dog crates. They threw me in, head first, before yanking the piece of cloth off.
I sat up and surveyed my surroundings; alert and confused.
"Now, it's your turn," Ari said. He turned to the frightened face of Angel. Her blue eyes pleaded with the wolfman, and she slid to the back of her cage instinctively.
"Don't touch her!" I cried. I shook the cage in a futile attempt to break free. My hand reached for Riptide instinctively, before remembering it was gone.
"Percy, it's alright. They can't kill me," Angel said telepathically. She let the Erasers take her, tired and terribly skinny.
I had no power, no strength and no energy. A sharp tenderness shot through my back, as if I'd been hit by a taser again. It grew worse and worse as the white doors closed in finality, with Angel on the other side. It felt like I was holding the weight of the world again, and the pressure intensified.
