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 I take back every bad thing I ever said about the FitnessGram Pacer Test. It is literally a walk in the park compared to the tests Jeb put me through. The treadmill wasn't for a leisurely stroll like I'd hoped. Instead, it was an examination to detect my endurance levels.
Even if it cost my life.
As soon as Jeb introduced himself, the guardian Eraser left, leaving two whitecoats to experiment to their hearts' content. Jeb attached a wire around my arm immediately, warning me that he would shock "the socks off my feet" if I didn't obey. His words, not mine.
He then decided to push me onto the cursed machine. Not wait to let me struggle up there willingly, but pushed. His figure betrayed his strength, causing a slight imbalance on my feet. I prayed to the gods that I didn't collapse like a sack of potatoes, losing my pride for good. Luckily, I was able to manage, but barely.
At first, the running wasn't as bad as I'd envisioned it would be. The wounds in my legs were numb from adrenaline. My back didn't play a major role in running, so it wasn't throbbing too bad either.
It was the dehydration that did a real number on me. I had dizzy vision by minute four. They had the sprinting speed set at eight miles per hour, and if I fell, they would release a surge of electricity into my body.
To make matters worse, they stuck water in my face, bribing and mocking me through every second. My legs were already so numb, but after a while I couldn't feel them any longer. I was gasping for air, my vision cloudy and dark.
I thought about middle school, when we learned about fermentation. It was a distant memory, but it was all I could think about as my muscles heated up more and more.
My shirt bandage was slowly loosing it's grip around my chest. It was down to my hips, exposing the two holes in my back housing wings. I was still extremely non-accepting of the extra muscles and bones. How would I be able to control them? Even if I could, what would stop Zeus from raping me with a lightning bolt.
All of these worries were momentarily distracting. I didn't notice the rush of vertigo until it was too late. My legs immediately halted. The treadmill slung my body onto the white floor, undoing my t-shirt bandage and leaving me shirtless. I was surprised and dazed at the same time. A white hot, tormenting heat followed afterwards. It felt like my skin was being roasted for a picnic, and I screamed through my raspy throat.
When it was over, I gagged up bile, stomach void of anything else. My body refused to move, so I laid on my side. I was feverishly shaking, the cold floor giving little relief.
Dr. Mallory slapped my cheek, disappointed. I hated her more than Gaea.
Jeb came from behind, lifting me up. He put a small straw to my face. "Drink this, then start over," he said firmly.
