Cabin 13

37| Somewhere in the Dark

The room was dreadingly dark, the only light was coming from a hearth burning low, purple flames from the middle of the room. But the light didn't reach past the sitting figure's fancy leather shoes.

"Master, the girl is only causing a ruckus, my brethren wish to take her body," a raspy voice sounded from the darkness. "It is becoming more work to subdue them than the girl is worth!"

A snarl came from the man sitting, "I'll  decide what she's worth. Now I have tasked you and your brethren  with keeping her hidden. But I can't use her if she's dead! " the voice was dark and old.

"Yes, we are grateful you chose us to carry out your bidding, Master," the raspy voice quickly corrected himself, his voice shaken. "I shall make sure she is kept alive. But may I ask, what exactly do you plan to do with her?"

There was a long silence. 

"She is my key out of the Netherlands..."

"I don't understand—''

"Of course you don't!" the voice boomed, quieting the other before he continued, "I myself thought I would have to wait until the hero of the prophecy died, but it seems I've become even luckier, his prized possession died much earlier than expected."

"You plan to use her to get to the hero," he realized, speaking cautiously.

"I've waited too long for my freedom for your brethren to mess it up! I will hold you responsible if anything goes wrong, Zaroes."

"Of course."

"Now bring me the girl," the master's cruel voice boomed.

Zaroes silently obeyed and soon a faint sound was heard approaching: "Let go of me!"

The sound of heavy doors opening was the only warning before a girl was thrown into the light of the fire. Annabeth. She was crumpled on the ground, covered in blood and grime. She attempted pushing herself up, it proving a more difficult task with her wrists bound. 

"Who are you?" she demanded.

A dark chuckle answered her. "I'm offended, though I hear my name is a rather unspoken one. Do you know where you are, child?"

The chuckle sent a cold chill through the room. Annabeth suppressed a shiver, forcing herself to speak. "Considering I've been kept in a dungeon since I got here, this is the first time I've looked around." Her eyes flashed in fear. "Am I in Tarturas?"

"Not quite. Though how you seem to tremble at the thought of my brother's realm is rather curious."

"Your brother?" Annabeth squinted. "You're not Eros."

"That's right."

"Your aura feels like Nyx's but you're not her either..."

"Right again."

"That leaves..." she paused, her eyes widening. "Erebus."

"Mm-hm, and welcome to my  realm: the Netherlands."

Annabeth could only blink at that, slowly shaking her head. "But... but I'm dead."

"Not quite, lucky for you I decided to preserve you and heal that ugly wound of yours."

Annabeth looked down. She pulled up her shirt, and sure enough, her injury was fully healed.

"Did the son of Hades receive my message?" Erebus asked, directing the question to Zaroes, who still hid in the shadows.

"Yes, indeed he did. And just like you said, it prompted him and the hero to call for a quest. They'll come straight to you, my Lord." Zaroes said, a sneer in his tone.

"Are you talking about Nico? He's coming here?" Annabeth asked with urgency, furrowing her brows with confusion.

"Not just him either, your beloved hero is accompanied by five other demigods of various prophecies," Zaroes said smugly.

"What do you plan do to them?!"

"Now that's simple," Erebus answered, "They'll free me in exchange for you."