Uncontrollable{COMPLETED}

Chapter One

Out of control. He could feel it, ripping at the inside of his body, at his mind, distorting everything. He could feel it take over as his mind weakened. The water. It was everywhere, and it felt....hostile. It swirled around him, rising higher and higher as his body wrenched with pain. He was too powerful for his own good. For everyone else's good. He needed to stop, had to stop, but he couldn't. The water was neck height, crashing at the windows of his cabin. He had to control it before he destroyed the camp. As the water reached his nose, he heard a noise at his cabin door. 

"Percy?" he heard Annabeth ask uncertainly. He lifted his mouth above the water and screamed at her, "No! Get away! I can't control it! Go!" The water formed a hurricane as he screamed in agony. The water closed over his head, and his last thought was, I hope Annabeth is safe. 

Percy woke up in the infirmary, confused and achy. He remembered having an awful, horrifying dream last night.... He sat bolt upright. It wasn't a dream. A sick wave of terror swept through him. He remembered losing control of his power. He remembered losing control of his mind, thinking strange, horrible thoughts. He had to get outside,  he had to see if he'd destroyed the camp. He couldn't remember if he had managed to stop it in time. As he tried to stand, Chiron cantered into the room, looking weary. When he saw that Percy was awake, he tried to clear his face of expression, which only worried Percy more. 

"Is the camp okay? Is anyone hurt? Where's Annabeth?" Percy asked frantically. He had to know if she was safe. If he had hurt her....he wouldn't be able to live with himself. 

"The camp is fine. Luckily, you were able to control your power before you did any damage. As a result, everyone is safe and unaware." Percy didn't even ask Chiron how he knew what happened. He didn't care. She's safe. The camp is safe. 

"Percy, it is you I'm worried about. In all my years, I have never heard of this, or known it to be possible. Do you have any idea how this could have happened?" Chiron asked intently. Percy had a half-formulated idea in the back of mind, but he didn't want to tell Chiron; he was afraid of the centaur's reaction. Ever since Tartarus, something had felt off. He rarely felt true happiness, and he almost always had a nagging sense of unease. He kept having nightmares about Akhlys, and the look of horror on Annabeth's face as he manipulated the poison. Recently, his dream self had ignored Annabeth and continued torturing Akhlys until she was nothing. And he had liked the sense of power that it had brought. It scared him.

Tartarus had affected more deeply than anyone knew. It had changed a part of his mind, altering his personality and powers. He felt a desire to punish other campers for minor things such as whispering about him as he walked by; he even felt it when they tried to start conversations. He wanted to use his powers on them; deliberately hurt him. He just felt as though they were insignificant; he was more powerful and they irritated him. But his feeling wasn't his, and it wasn't natural. He was scared of himself. There was a darkness inside him, as if Akhlys's poison had remained in his soul. 

"Percy?" Chiron asked gently, jarring him back to reality. He felt a tear slide down his cheek and dashed it away angrily. Crying is  a sign of weakness. Even his thoughts had changed. He turned away from Chiron and curled up on the bed. He felt hollow and empty, and he was afraid. He was afraid that Chiron and his friends would hate him if they knew. He was afraid that Annabeth would hate him. If she turned away from him, who knew what would happen. Most likely it would end in a lot of deaths, thought Percy miserably, trying to ignore a little thrill that went through him at the thought. Not mine, not mine, that was not my thought, he repeated furiously. He heard Chiron sigh and clop away. More than anything, Percy wanted to stay awake to prevent the dreams. But his efforts were futile, and soon he sank into a slumber. Immediately, the dream started. Once  again, he was in Tartarus, facing Akhlys. He felt more powerful as he loomed over her weak, pathetic form. He saw Annabeth's skeletal body behind him, shrouded in Death Mist. He himself was not shrouded. He didn't need protection. He controlled the misty poison, sending it at Akhlys, knowing that her screams and wails were a result of him, and he luxuriated in the feeling. He resented the fact that he had not known the full extent of his powers before; who knows what he could've done. He could've defeated Luke; struck down anyone who stood in his way. He would've been unstoppable.