VIII: Still Insane

The Manticore had gotten Annabeth easily, without any major struggle. We'd pushed her under the globe's weight, just as the hundred handed one succumbed to his lingering death.

"Luke, are you sure?" I asked, looking at Annabeth, struggling under the weight of the sky. She didn't have any strength to shift her stance, or to adjust her shoulders. The cartilage would bend and the bone would shatter under that amount of pressure.

"Believe me, I don't like it either, but it's necessary." he said, as he gazed somewhere else, unable to look at the girl.

"When you start breaking oaths," Ethan began, looking worried. "Is when things start going sideways."

"We all broke oaths." said Chris, with his lips pursed together. "Most of us."

Alabaster still stood there, looking at Annabeth. He seemed as comfortable about it as I did.

I looked at the blond girl moaning, and I made a decision.

"You should get going. We have to make some alliance with some weird sea god tomorrow, right?" I suggested, as I batted off some insect from Ethan's face. "You need rest."

"What about you?" Chris asked.

"Something is bothering me here. I want to figure out what it is." I said. I kissed Chris, and pushed him away. "I'll be fine, don't worry."

The quartet hesitantly looked back as they walked away, except for Luke. When they got lost in the fog, I made my way to Annabeth, throwing my backpack on the floor and taking off my jacket.

"Your posture is wrong. If you stand like that you'll shatter your shoulders and elbows. You need to adjust your knees, and your arms shouldn't be as spread out." I spoke quickly, tying up my hair. She and didn't bother to open her mouth or look at me.

I snapped at her face, obliging her eyes to meet mine as I bent down to remove some things from my bag.

"Ambrosia, nectar. I have an energy bar here as well, and a bottle of water." I offered, as I took them out and set them on the ground. "I want you to be quick and smart. Don't run away, you lack the energy to do so and you'll be impaled by some guard's spear."

I took a square of ambrosia myself, and kept it between my teeth.

"Out." I ordered, as I crouched down next to her. She tiredly stumbled out of the place, and it fell on my arms, crushing me under its excruciating mass. I knew I needed to push up while I had the energy to do so, so I wouldn't only bend further down. My knees burnt as I stood up, and it was hard to control the slow bending of my arms. My bones felt like they would snap if I kept going.

I kept going regardless. Biting on the ambrosia, I felt its sweet taste melt on my tongue, and I had the strength to push up a bit more. I stood completely, with my arms almost fully extended. That was the hardest part. It wasn't easy for the sky to make me bend again, so I would either keep it up or crumple under it. Extreme odds, but I was a proud person.

She made it for fifteen minutes, exhausted and beaten and scared. I was none of those things, so I could do better than the Athena kid. I would do better than her.

I glanced at Annabeth, who was devouring what I had given her, and felt a line of sweat trickle down my neck. My lungs burnt with every tired breath, and my legs went numb while my arms turned to mash. Minutes passed. I made no sound, scared it would drain my energy. I watched her gobble down my water and sip on the nectar, like a starved hound.

"Food in my bag." I groaned, and she looked at me carefully. She unzipped my bag, shuffled for a moment, and found the sandwich that I made earlier in the morning. She started munching on it, all while keeping a suspicious eye on me. How the tables turned.

"Erica!" Alabaster called. "Atlas wants to see you! I'd hurry if I were you! You don't wanna see him angry."

I knew no sound I made would be audible to him, so I didn't say anything. Annabeth's eyes widened, terrified. I tried to not collapse.

"Erica?" Alabaster shouted. "Where'd you go?"

I could almost feel realization dawn on him as his feet stopped.

"What did that little witch do to her?" he muttered, running towards us and slashing out his sword.

He froze when he saw me stumbling under the Sky.

"How did you force her there?" he growled, with the tip of his sword on the little heroine's sooted neck.

"I d-didn't" she gagged.

"I don't care if Castellan wants you alive. If you lie again, I will kill you, understand?"

"I d-didn't-t" she repeated.

"It's true." I breathed weakly, wincing.

"Gods." Alabaster said. He poked the tip of his sword onto her Annabeth's neck, close enough to make a small stream of blood. "Get up."

She complied. Smart girl. He would've killed her on the spot if she hadn't.

"Take her place." he ordered. "Now."

I didn't oppose. She'd have to go back eventually. However, Alabaster learning of this would prove quite inconvenient to me. Annabeth stood in front of me, but as soon as I dropped it, her legs buckled and she fell on her knees. But her weight was better distributed this time.

Torrington pulled me to him, stuffing a square of ambrosia into my face. I stood up slowly as I took it in my teeth. I sighed.

"What was in your head, Erica?" he started shaking me by my shoulders. "Do you know how easy it'd be for her to just sprint off and leave your stupid ass there?"

"She was about to die. Her arms would shatter and her tendons would snap if she didn't correct her position. I can't let her die like thi-"

"If she died they wouldn't know and they'd still come." he groaned, looking as if he was about to punch me. "If you died, we'd lose both you and your brother. Don't you think?"

I sighed in defeat. "Let's just go."

***

As I've mentioned, they started as dreams. However, soon enough, those dreams turned into hallucinations under plain daylight. I could be doing anything. It happened during class, on my way home, while I was eating. The first time it'd happened, I was making coffee at six, prepping myself for school. I dropped the coffee jar, splashing the hot liquid all over the floor.

***

"Faster!" a voice yelled. I instantly recognized it. Koios. Nearing the last two years of the war, when the spirit of Kronos had taken into notice my existence, he'd urged his Titan brothers to perfect the "Raven Twins", a nickname given to us due to our purplish dark hair and similar build, into a lethal set of twin blades.

And so they did. If Ethan and I remarked ourselves through our determination and might before, we were now impossible to look past. As the demigods in charge dropped in number due to the rising of Titans, Nemesis made herself known in the room where it happened through her half-blooded children. Ethan and I were fast fighters, relatively talented. They turned that talent into skill.

Each of Kronos' brothers were convinced to teach us different aspects of war that would make us good soldiers and subordinates to his cause. Koios fastened my swordfight while Iapetus taught me to use the spear, Hyperion taught me close quarters combat, and Krios taught me how to handle arrows and throwing knives.

I had the tip of my sword to Koios' neck, and I sliced it, swinging my arms and wrists. Ichor flew out, but the wound sealed quickly. Perks of being immortal.

"Better." he said. "But your brother is still faster than you."

I looked at Ethan, standing a few steps away, smiling radiantly. I rolled my eyes. Ethan was ridiculously faster than me, for some reason.

Koios jumped up, looking at the sky with a sunny smile. He stood on the edge of the cliff, like an anime character. I didn't see how someone so happy and just could turn into the vicious beast he was on the battlefield.

"Lord Koios, when will we practice next?" Ethan asked, just as I wiped the ichor from my sword and saw it on the light. The afternoon sun provided us with a warm yellowish hue.

"I'll tell you then." he said, with his usual sunny smile. "Fly away now, fragile little mortals. I have matters to tend to."

I smiled and walked away with Ethan teasing me.

***

The hot coffee splashed all around my legs and body, burning my skin as I fell on the floor, breaking out on sobs. Ethan shouldn't have died. I should have.

I looked at the shards of glass, as dread took over me, clawing on my insides and mumbling to my ears. A chill went up my spine, slowly reaching for my head and crushing my mind. Before I could stop myself, as if someone else guided my hand, I found myself reaching for a fragment of the jar. My fingers gently closed around it, and I stared at it, unable to drop it. My arm raised itself, until the blade was inches away from my neck. One clean slice, all the nightmares would go. One clean slice…

My breathing fastened, and my heart beat like there was no tomorrow. There didn't need to be, I told myself.

No, I wouldn't die like this. I needed to make the Olympians keep up their promise, I needed to make sure that Ethan didn't die for nothing. My hand tightened around the glass, skin rupturing under its sharp edges. My mind was alert, but my body seemed drowsy, uncaring to obey me. I wouldn't die like this.

I thought of whatever good there would be. There was Connor. I wanted to befriend him, to see his jumps. There was Ethan, his sacrifice. Luke and Kronos died for me. And the Olympians… How delighted would they be? I would not be subject of their gloating.

I pictured their laughing indifference, as someone mentions my name, and another nods it off with two simple words. 'Fragile mortals.'

No. I wouldn't allow that.

As if simply to seize their pleasure, my hand dropped the blade on the floor. My palm was bloody, and small bolts of pain shot from my open cut. I knew something was wrong, something that drove me to grab the glass like that. That gut feeling wouldn't leave me for the following days.

I didn't go to school that day, calling in sick.

Suicide tempted me with her promises everyday. It invited myself to my mind, and sat there for hours, whispering to me what I should do to stop my grieving. I knew it was a foreign presence in me, at least what I knew of me. I had a feeling she'd dwelled in my subconscious up till now, lurking undetected. She became a recurring part of my daily life, although I didn't want to die. She'd taunt me with hallucinations, any and every time of day. It felt as if someone invisible always followed me, never two feet apart from me.

When I'd opened the window to let the fresh air wash away the scent of blood, sirens blasted off in my head, howling something only I could hear. I grabbed my head, trying to cover my ears to shut it off. She howled at me, urging me to propulse my body through the opening in the window. She told me it was quick and painless. With all the strength I could muster, I pulled down the window, closing it.

I felt my eardrums burst in anguish, as I sat against the wall, with my face in between my knees. I screamed at myself, commanding my own conscious to get a grip of itself.

"Leave me alone." I supplicated, clawing on the floor. "Don't do this to me."

Those thoughts made life a Hell for me. When I was at school, I'd suddenly be overwhelmed with nausea, and I'd instantly run to the bathroom, throwing up until blood stained the toilet. I'd see and feel the silhouette of Ethan, walking away from me, and when people spoke to me, I always heard the voice of someone else I used to know.

A week in, and the monsters had started eyeing me suspiciously when I walked on the street, nervously chattering out of my way if I turned to them. Maybe it was the specter haunting me that frightened them.

My dark circles concerned my teachers and colleagues, just as my growing paranoia and paling skin. Everyday was bitterly gray, and each moment I saw new ways to meet my demise. I overthought, wondering if perhaps my struggle was what pleased the gods.

Two weeks in, and I'd started succumbing to her screams. I came closer and closer to ending it, tiptoeing around high places and lifting my heels on the edge, letting go of my breath under water, chugging down rat poison. When she didn't control my movements, she hissed on my skin, screeching from everywhere around me, until my voice became hoarse of screaming.

I was going insane.

One night, I woke up from a damned dream, and found the place behind me oddly empty. It seemed like she'd left me to sleep. I went to the bathroom to wash my face, running my skin through the freezing water. I looked in the mirror, and realized how disgusting everything looked.

Then, it happened in a flash. They were fast, contained movements, as if I'd planned them. She didn't tell me to do so, but I felt inclined to nevertheless. I threw my punch at the reflecting glass, shattering the epicenter of impact and breaking apart the rest. I grabbed a sharp fragment, and slit it across my wrists carelessly. I smiled looking into the broken reflection, and only too late I'd realized: the presence was no longer behind me - it had crawled into me.

I dropped to the white tiles, leaning back against the wall. Blood flooded my bathroom floor, and I saw the materialization of my haunter crouching in front of me and grinning.

It went dark. I hoped it only went dark, honestly. Of course it didn't. After what seemed like days in an empty abyss, I found myself sitting on a bare land, devoid of life. Few more spirits stood with me.

A pale, long-faced man stood, oar in hand, before us all.

"Charon." I muttered, walking toward him.

"No, I'm Aphrodite." he ironized. "You know my name. That's a new one."

"I'd never mistake you for a drunk centaur." I answered, cracking my joints. "Tending after the dead is in itself a thing with a far larger purpose."

"Get in the boat. Save your drachma." he proclaimed, with something that I assumed to be a smile, but really distorted his face.

I went into the ferry, and soon after I noticed this wasn't the way to the courthouse. He was silent, so I didn't bring it up. He stopped his boat by a shore with cadmium green trees, ornamented by gemstones hanging by the branches.

Persephone's garden.

Wordless, I stepped off and immediately he steered away. I walked towards it, uncaring of whatever was in it. Hades materialized himself next to me, and I kneeled awkwardly. From behind him, a sickly looking child stepped out, pale and dark-haired. His slender fingers were covered in rings. From his side, dangled a sword carved in Stygian Iron.

Nico Di Angelo, the dead angel.

"My lord." I mumbled.

"Rise, child." he called. I did so. "Your time has not come yet. When it does, I will welcome you and you shall embrace it as a home, whatever your aftermath be. But for now, Delphi has another purpose for you."

I nodded, unsure of what that purpose was. I didn't want to be used by Delphi. Fat drops of water ran down my face and into the ground. Here, unlike in the hideaway, it nurtured the dead dust. I stayed silent still, glaring at the ground as I quietly weeped.

"But my brother." I managed, lifting my gaze toward the god. "My friends. I'm here, take me."

His expression was guilty, and he gently shook his head. I directed my eyes to the child.

He looked conflicted, as if he wanted to hate me, but couldn't. I knew of his sister, who died alone and desperate, under my hand. I wondered if he knew I'd killed her. He doubtlessly hated and blamed me for her death, but still he saw himself in me.

Nico came out from behind his father, and dragged my by my wrist aggressively, leading me around Hades. His father nodded from behind us, and left.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"Back." he spat out dryly.

I didn't stop him from dragging me across the dead fields of the Underground, and I didn't stop him to speak more beyond that one question. When we walked past the pit that marked the descend to Tartarus, and I turned my head back sensing his presence, he stopped.

"They're dead." he snarled. He turned back showing me his face. I was surprised by what I saw. His scowl was formed by anger, but his eyes were red and tears fell shamefully from his eyes. "Stop trying to get to them. They're dead. There's nothing you can do, nothing you can do anymore."

"I know." I answered.

He stared into my eyes, and his scowl turned into something peaceful and mildly reassuring.

"Don't die for them."

"I tried, but there's something… behind me, all the time." I tried to assimilate my thoughts, but I ended up simply looking at him.

He looked like he knew what I spoke of.

"It's you."

He stepped into a shadow, forming a type of whirlpool that took us back to the flat. Just as I opened my eyes again, the son of Hades stuffed three blocks of Ambrosia down my mouth, closing the cuts around my wrists. He stumbled a bit, as he looked exhausted.

He smacked my face, looking into my eyes and going:

"Don't do this again. I'll live with you until you go back to camp." he stated, and then he left the bathroom and fell face first on the floor, worn out by the shadow-travel.

He'd kept true to his word, and soon we'd become close friends. When he was there, the presence following me wasn't. He mourned with me.

The following months eased with his nurturing care. He'd wake me when I had nightmares, tell me stories of his sister. I told him about my brother and my friends, and he listened carefully.

He tended to me as if I was one of his own, as he'd known me since before life scarred either of us.

Perhaps the Dead Angel was not as suitable of an alias for him as the Angel of the Dead.