Labyrinth Runner

Chapter 20 (Annabeth)

This isn't Annabeth's POV. "Then why the heck did you say that it was, Jamie?"-the answer is that I didn't want people looking through the Contents and seeing UNKNOWN POV and skip to it and it would ruin the whole story.

Can you please not comment "OMG IT'S _____!" But you can go "I think I know who it is... I'm dying here"And if you're really eager doing the first one, PM me your exclamations.

And if you do manage to figure out who it is, do not, I repeat do NOT comment flames about how _____ is totally OOC and __ would never do that. I can't tell you my reasons, because that would also ruin the story. So I am just going to say it was planned and I have a reason for this psycho being a psycho and not normal.

●○ DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN PERCY JACKSON OR THE MAZE RUNNER ●○

○●○●○●○●○●○●

● UNKNOWN #20 ●

I felt Gally's muscles as if they were mine as he burst through the smoke from the door I just blew up. I took pleasure from the genetic anger that buzzed in his mind as he stared banefully at Annabeth before he fled, a rivalry that made me feel proud and gleeful. The fact that that girl punched MY son for saying the truth, added more hatred to my infinite reserve of vengeance.

I commanded him to escape into the Maze, and quickly cast a protective bubble around him so no fascinating creatures would devour him. That would be inconvenient to lose such a valuable pawn, my favourite son.

If he did get eaten, I would have to restart my whole plan and add him to my stuffed children collection. Which would be a positive, I guess... but Gally would be more useful alive. But the next option, if things didn't go to plan, would be to stuff him and then animate him. The advantage: creepy glass eyes.

I unpeeled myself from inside Gally's body so I could return to the prison cell. The smell of smoke was reminiscent of the smell of burning corpse and the winces that floated from Annebeth's mouth made it feel like I was in those clubs with flashing lights. What were they called again?

I walked in, hovering a few centimeters so as not to ruin my vintage Converse sneakers, spinning my car keys that were custom made from bone. Rad, huh?

I stared at the daughter of Athena, gritting my sparkling white teeth as I saw the resemblance she had with her deceitful mother. There was once a time when I was close to Athena - after all, we did share powers, although she was more famous for it than I was. My powers were second hand, given to me by ignorant mortals.

Once I kill Athena, the domain will be mine and only mine, I thought possessively. Then I'll kill all those other useless gods...

Annabeth was starting to roll onto her uninjured arm, so she could push herself up and stand.

Nope. Can't have that.

I took a few hurried steps and stepped on her face. There was a sickening crunch and a muffled scream of distress before she relaxed from the drowsy spell I just sent through the rubber of my shoe.

Annabeth's elbow had cracked against the concrete, fracturing her humerus and I had just broken her nose, injuries I sensed immediately and had no inclination to heal. But what I did do was concentrate on them, making heat spread throughout her body and making the pain a thousand times worse than it actually was.

I wasn't going to kill her or injure her too badly. As much as I'd like to stand here and torture her, I needed her for dessert, the grand finale to end, or at least sedate, my decade-long desire for revenge. She was just an instrument in the orchestra of the apocalypse.

An instrument I had plans to play.

She screamed, her dusty body withering on the floor like an ant underneath a magnify glass. It added to the distant cry of Percy's pain, an instrumental soundtrack behind the lead singer. But Percy's voice was far too soft and Annabeth's vocals totally overrode his.

I smiled contently as I threw my power to the other side of the Glade, centring on Percy's distinctive green and gold aura.

The reaction was instantaneous.

His pitch dropped and the volume increased to a point that it bounced around the clouded room. It had an ambience that reminded me of long forgotten concerts. It made me think of the days when there were still those kinds of things as I refined the amount of pain I was forcing into Percy so his screaming pitch dilated to create beautiful rythemless music. I could not believe I once liked those repetitive beats accompanied with ripping shreds of electric guitar and annoying singers.

Now I preferred to rip people's minds and body to shreds to create music and replace the guitar, the bass, the keyboard, the whole forgettable band. But the annoying habits of the singers remained, it just changed a bit: the tendency for the singers to die.

What I do for good music these days.

I stashed away my car keys and quickly dug out my cell phone out of my pocket and clicked the record button.

The song was perfect, Annebeth's voice soaring over Percy's lower pitch. The unpredictable and unchoreographed bursts of volume, spluttering from deflated lungs and the growing roughness as they screamed their little slittable throats out.

I spun and danced around the thrashing figure laying on the floor, my head jerking randomly and humming to a song I didn't know, but really liked. I reared back and landed a vicious kick in Annabeth's stomach, adding grunts to her rising screams.

Her face was screwed up as she curled in on herself, too disorientated by the explosion, her sudden agony and my invisible (yes, I am invisible, dude. This whole time. Couldn't you see?) foot into her gut. It was so gloriously satisfyingly that I stopped the recording to switch to my camera (don't you hate the fact the phone can't be doing two things at once?), taking a picture with a click that was lost in the cacophony of suffering.

I tap-danced away as I aggressively tapped on my phone, sending the photo to Athena with a twisted smile on face.

Your daughter has a beautiful voice.

○●○●○●○●○●○●

It's obvious who it is, right? If it isn't, then I am happy that I managed to stay mysterious.

WATTPAD AD BREAK

BOOK OF THE WEEK: A Thousand Pieces Of You by Claudia Grey-the author of Evernight. Ring any bells? Ah, well. I forgot to read the first 2 books and read from 3 onwards. Yes, I'm a bad person. But I've done worse. But the whole Alternative Universe thing has become more popular, and this is a story when the daughter(Marguerite) of the scientists who created the Firebird, a device that enables the travel between dimensions. When her father is murdered by his assistant,Paul, she and Theo chase him through the different dimensions, shocking truths revealed (shocking, right?).

Jamie Edge

○ PUBLISHED: 7 February 2015 ○