PJO/HOO - Behind Closed Doors Pt.2 Percabeth Fanfiction

Chap 13

Annabeth's pov:

I skipped through most of the pages, only looking to find the pages about memory. To my horror, the pages were completely blank, there was nothing to do with memory, the pages a crisp white.

"What?" I said aloud, blinking a few times to see if my eyes weren't working. That didn't work, and I spent five minutes trying to conjure up the words, but to no avail.

The door swung open, and I turned towards the sudden noise. Malcolm, and a bunch of other Athena kids came rushing in here. Right, I thought. It's bedtime.

"What's with that book?" Malcolm pointed at the now mostly scrunched up book.

"Nothing," I put it under my pillow, shaking my head for reassurance. The book was of no importance to Malcolm, so I figured showing him would be wasting my time.

Malcolm raised his eyebrows at me, though I merely shrugged. "Right well, g'night."

I didn't say anything, lying on my pillow and wincing as my head met the hard cover.

. . .

The next day, I opened the book again, expecting to find the essential pages blank, though to my horror, a dark red liquid oozed out of the page, and I screeched loudly, knocking the book out of my hands and letting it skid down the floor. It didn't make it any better though, the crimson liquid had crawled across the floor and it darkened the wood around it. I felt like throwing up my insides, and the door burst open after my outburst, a very panicked Malcolm looking inside.

"What the hell happened?" Malcolm asked me, just noticing the blood-streaked books. "Are you hurt? Oh Gods, look at the blood!"

I kept myself fixated on the bed, staring at the book disgusted. Who would do this? Maybe the book was cursed, a daughter or son of Hecate could have come in here and bewitched the book . . . but why? I had no grudge against any of the campers and now . . . it felt like I was going to be assassinated.

"What did you do?" Malcolm asked, as he called for a camper to bring a mop. My eyes widened, they would need to bring a big mop to clean this mess up. I knew I wasn't to blame, though somehow, it felt like it was my fault. "There's been no attacks for about four weeks Annabeth- we were on a good streak too." He shook his head. "Four more days till we broke the record as well."

For the first time in my life, I really didn't know. There were times where I felt clueless yet I could still think, yet now I felt completely useless. Paralysed in a state of fear as Malcolm mopped the blood, cursing as some of it spat back on to his shirt.

"We have to tell Chiron," Malcolm decided.

I shook my head. "No, he'll cancel the games."

"And?" Malcolm snapped. "Who knows whose blood this could be. It could be one of ours, Annabeth. Someone could've been killed here."

The very statement made me shiver in fear. I blindly touched my face-

"No don't do-" Malcolm tried to say, though the warm substance was already stuck on my face, and I yelped in surprise.

"It's warm!" I cried. I had the blood of another freshly marked on my cheek, the temperature of the liquid had just confirmed my thoughts. Whoever died- whoever died had been killed recently. The pace of my heart pumping quickened at a faster rate, one that I thought was much too fast for any normal teenage girl. Then again, was I normal?

I looked down at my hands, each and every bit of skin on those two body parts had the marks of another on them, the sickly smell of iron wafted into my nostrils and the rush of bile hit my throat. Gods, everything here just made me want to throw up.