9. Looks Like Fates Doesn't Hate Me That Much

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• September 8th, 1998, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry •

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September 8th, 1998, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry •

"Pathetic,"

An inhumane figure spat at the figure below it as it dragged a spiked whip across the floor. The figure below it tried not to whimper but couldn't suppress the shudder as she heard the whip being beat on the floor.

The figure was a girl hardly noticeable with all the blood and dirt covering her. She was as thin as a stick showing her lack of food. She lay on the floor looking a rag doll which was run over by a car, dipped in red paint and dragged across the road.

Her clothes were mere rags, her bare skin covered in wounds ranging from stabs to whip marks. Her once bright green eyes were closed, her eyelashes weakly fluttered as she heard somebody come in.

From where she lay on her side with her limbs uncomfortably chained to the wall, she could that a random monster had come to torture her again. She groaned weakly.

"H-hey, I'm Percy. I-I don't think we've met yet," She had to struggle to get the words out as she coughed up some blood. Their tries to break her were fruitless.

True, she wasn't able to fight with her limbs bound but that didn't stop her from riling up the monsters with her sarcasm. She was sure that the monsters had managed to break each and every bone in her body. They tortured her all the time but didn't let her die. They kept her alive to use her as their own entertainment.

She hated this, every bit of it. She hated being used like this, random monsters and titans alike even Tartarus finding sick joy in torturing her. She hated being weak like this. But she had to for the sake of Annabeth.

Tartarus had promised that they will let her best friend live if she stayed here by swearing an oath on the Styx. She took her beatings too on the hope that she will live. She was sure that Annabeth could fulfill this prophecy better than her.

She did not dare believe Tartarus. She was just seeing for the right time to let Annabeth escape with Bob and Damesan who had been captured too. She was only alive to make sure this happens.

But it did not make this any easier. She had lost count on how many days she had been here. It could've been weeks, months...she didn't know. Time in mythical places were majorly screwed up.

She was tired, so tired of all this, Tartarus, the monsters, the gods everything. All she wanted was peace and quiet. Why did she have to fight for her life everyday when people her age in bliss oblivious to all this? Why did she have to worry about her loved ones' lives each day when the others worried about their calculas test? Why was it always her?

Her thoughts were cut by a weird gurgling sound made by the unidentified monster. "Oh great, you can’t talk. You know you're wel-"

The monster chose that exact moment to use the whip. She felt like her back was on fire. It hurt. It hurt a lot. The whip was ripped back, adding a new scar to her collection. Blood gushed out of the wound as it became an angry red.

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