Daughter of Poseidon

A Quick Trip to the End of the World

He was there and waiting for me when I made my first step onto the volcanic black sand making up the banks of the Styx. He followed me as I walked with Percy, Grover and Annabeth, silently lying in wait. Then there was a trap, made by my own friends; even Hades had chipped in. Hades, whom everyone hated. I was all alone in this world, entirely alone.

It began in the elevator which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass. The elevator was plush, with the sort of deep-pile carpet, soft lighting, and mirrored walls that you would expect form the Plaza, or four seasons. The size of it contrasted the luxury though - a floor space designed on industrial proportions, in order to cram as many souls in as possible. Though I doubt the souls cared about the cramped conditions much. They were probably just hoping that we actually got to the underworld.

Charon grabbed two spirits without passes who were trying to get on with us and pushed them back into the lobby, ignoring their cries about the centuries that they had waited.

"If you've waited two hundred years, then another hundred won't do much harm will it?" He said rhetorically, slamming the doors and muttering things about freeloaders. His logic was astounding.

"What did you say?" He asked looking at me.

I realised that I'd said the last bit out loud, and flushed a little, embarrassed. Charon raised an eyebrow.

"Whoever said death was fair, young lady? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going." 

"We'll get out alive, " insisted Percy. 

"Ha."

I got a sudden hit of nausea, like the sickening, but fun feeling of those g-forces on roller-coasters. But, to the best of my knowledge, that probably was just my overactive mind. The road to death was long, and not supposed to be fun. We weren't going down anymore, but forward. I blinked, then blinked again to check that I wasn't dreaming. In the flash of an eye, the air had turned misty, with an almost ghost-like appearance. Spirits around me started changing shape. Their modern clothes flickered, then faded, turning into gray hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying like a ship.

Grover said, "I think I'm getting seasick. "

When I blinked again, the elevator wasn't an elevator anymore. We were standing in a wooden barge. Charon was poling us across the river Styx. It was dark and oily, just as polluted as ever with the dreams that mortals had cast away as they passed onto the next life. The souls standing near us began to draw things out of their hearts, a young boy pulling out a bright red balloon, hugging it, then crying as his mother made him cast it away. I felt tears brim in my eyes and couldn't bear to look any longer. So this is what death felt like, none of the glory that may associated it with, just a brief, sad numbness, then oblivion. It was much worse.

"The River Styx," Annabeth murmured. "It's so . . .- "

"-Polluted, " Charon said, finishing it off for her and looking at the passengers on the ship with disdain. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across - hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."

"Then you should get a recycling factory. It'd provide some much needed life here."

Charon sighed an exasperated sigh. "I knew I'd get some lip from a kid of an unrestrained god, but, little lady, couldn't you just exercise the smallest smidgen of courtesy? It would make your words a lot better accepted, I think you'll find."

"I was just providing light, humorous entertainment." I said. "And from the looks of this place, you need it. It's a right hell-hole. Pun intended."