Nico di Angelo and the Survivors

Chapter 9

"What the hell?!?!?!" Kris screeched as her whole body ignited. I stared in shock at Mrs. Caprice who was on her knees, the shadows wrapped around her with that solid shadow hand holding that dagger up to her throat. I gripped my sword as the shadows thickened, swirling around her in silent laughter.

I told you there'd be trouble,

I told you there'd be trouble,

I told you there'd be trouble,

I told you there'd be trouble,

I told you there'd be trouble,

I fell to the floor, clutching my head as the voices swam in my head, growing louder and louder.

It's all your fault.

You're so useless.

She'll die because of you.

Your friend will die because of you.

YOUR SISTER DIED BECAUSE OF YOU

Silent tears streamed down my face as I remembered that day at Camp Half-Blood. I was walking next to the Stoll twins when there was this pain in my chest and I could clearly imagine Bianca entering the automaton. For crying out loud, I had dreamt the whole thing the previous night. I was just to stubborn to even mention it to Chiron.

No one cares for you.

Your sister left you.

Camp doesn't want you.

He doesn't need you.

Doesn't want you.

DOESN'T LOVE YOU.

You're sick.

You're a disappoint.

To your father.

To your mother.

To Chiron.

To Camp.

To the Gods.

To him and your sister.

He will NEVER love you because he has her.

Bianca left you because you were a disappointment and annoying.

NOBODY will EVER love YOU.

I cried. I sobbed uncontrollably as I let my sword drop to the floor. Tears rushed down my face as I pictured everything. Percy, laughing on the beach with his arms around Annabeth. Bianca, smiling with the Hunters. Chiron, not even looking at me when I left. The camp, avoiding me while they enjoyed life. My father, looking down at me, saying Bianca should be the one alive. The gods, looking at me as my father's son, not for who I am.

But you're nothing.

You're just trash.

You're useless.

You're a disappointment.

You should be dead.

I clutched my blazer as my chest heaved painfully. Every breath hurt. I shouldn't even be alive. Silena, Beckenford, Zoe, and Bianca. They should be alive. Not me. I'm just a useless son of Hades. A god who doesn't even care for me. I should just be dead.

So then die...

Slowly, I grabbed the hilt of my sword. I couldn't hear anything, just the sound of the voices breaking down all my walls. With tears streaming down my face, I brought the tip of my sword to my chest. I smiled, remembering all those stories I heard from the ghosts of people who committed seppuku. They died honorably as they rid themselves from the world. I chuckled darkly as I dug the point into my chest. It would be mere seconds before I actually do some good for the world. I could feel a small trace of pain from my sword when suddenly it wasn't there anymore. I opened my eyes and looked down to see the hilt still in my hand, but my blade being held by...