My Sister got Me a Stoll: A Tratie Fanfic

Chapter 8 (Travis's POV)

Dying is not fun.

I'm pretty sure most of you knew that already, or just assumed it, but let me tell you, it's only painful the first time. I died a total of thirteen times. I don't know what people were doing with my body, but I kept dying, then coming back to life. The first time was in the forest. After the hellhound attacked me, I remember lying in Katie's lap staring up at her thinking, Well, if I'm going to die, at least Katie is by me.

I remember drifting off into a sleep-like state. I was aware of what was going on around me, but it was more like I was watching myself on a television from the nineteen eighties. I found myself drifting farer and farer away, then finally, I couldn't see myself at all. I found myself in front of a recording studio in Los Angeles. The sign said DOA recording studio.

Hmmmmmm. DOA Recording Studios? Isn't that where Percy said the entrance to the underworld was?

I pushed open the door and found myself in what looked more like a waiting room than a record studio, but I just rolled with it. I walked up to the man behind the counter. I looked at his name tag and for the first time in my life, I could read without having the words float around.

Well, if I can read, then that's just another upside of being dead!

I studied the name tag and found that he was Charon, the ferryman for the Underworld. I cleared my throat.

"Umm Charon? Is this the Underworld?"

He looked at me like I was an idiot. I did not appreciate that.

"No. This is the entrance to the underworld. To get through to the 'majestic land of the dead' you have to pay me, or I'll just let you through when I feel like it, oh you know, in one thousand years."

I reached into my pocket of my shorts. First rule of being a thief, always have zip pockets. I felt around and pulled out five golden drachmas. Charon's eyes bulged.

"Were you planning on dying kid?"

I smirked.

"Of course not, just took these from my brother this morning, he still has no clue."

Charon studied me more.

"Are you really dead, kid?"

"Of course! I got attacked by a hellhound and everything! Honestly, living was great and all, but death doesn't seem too bad. I'm not dyslexic anymore, so that's a plus."

Charon nodded his head like that made sense.

"Ahh, so you're a demi-god. They accept death better than mortals, but most of them still have crying fits, you wouldn't believe some of the things I've had to deal with."

I was intrigued. What did the ferryer of the underworld have to do on a daily basis? I was honestly curious.

"Here, take the drachmas, just get me to the underworld, and on the way, could you tell me about some of the weird stuff you've had to deal with?"

At this, Charon looked surprised.

"You, want to talk to me?"

"Uhm, yes? Unless there's another ferryer to the underworld."

Charon laughed.

"Kid, no one wants to talk with me, and about me. Normally all they do is cry and complain. Charon, am I really dead? Charon, please let me cross! Charon, have mercy! Charon! Charon! Charon! It's enough to drive someone crazy!"

I nodded. As I was about to leave the drachmas on his desk, I felt a strange tugging in my gut. I soon realized that I was drifting away. I tried to grab onto something, but my hand just passed through the tables and chairs I clawed at. Finally, when I reached the door, I felt like I was a human whirlpool, and got sucked up by a tornado.