The Last Arrow - The Great Holiday Mystery

9. Strong

~Personal Torture Rooms~

Percy stared in horror at the bloodied knife and the beautiful girl in front of him. His worst fear had been realized; he’d betrayed his friends.

All around him, everyone he knew was dead. Some had not a mark on them, but their glistening skin said that he had drowned them.

Percy wept and died a little inside as he watched his deepest, darkest fear come to life.

This isn’t real, he tried to tell himself, this isn’t real.

But it was hard to believe that when he stroked the face of his girlfriend, lying pale and beautiful in death, killed by none other than himself.

All the others, lying still, lifeless, completely gone. His gaze drifted to the knife and he wondered if it would hurt more than it did now if he were to plunge it into his stomach.

This isn’t real, he reminded himself. It’s a vision. Wake up. Wake up! WAKE UP!

Percy Jackson’s eyes opened.

He was in the small room. The fountain was gone. The passage was open again, or perhaps it was a different one.

Nevertheless, he bolted down the hall to a hopeful reunion with his friends. All he wanted was to get away from that place.

Annabeth’s reflection stared back from everywhere. All she could see was herself, from every angle. The mirrors pointing out every flaw and everything she hated about herself.

‘No!’ she screamed.

No matter where she ran, no matter which we she turned, every imperfection was clear as day, standing out amongst all else.

‘Somebody help me!’ she pleaded.

But no one came. She was completely and utterly alone. No one came to help her, none of her friends cared.

Think logically, she commanded herself. Don’t panic. Do what you do, child of Athena.

She was a child of Athena. She was not to be taken down by this.

She looked herself straight in the eye and smile, panic fading. She breathed deep and focused on all her faults, releasing all her frustration.

‘I don’t CARE!’ she yelled at the mirror.

The glass shattered in threw out in every direction. Annabeth hit the deck, her arms shielding her face from the impact. When she looked up, she was alone in that terrible room. The marble temple that had induced her fate was gone, another tunnel in its place.

Annabeth glanced back; there was no other way out.

‘Anything’s better than this place,’ she decided, muttering under her breath.

She started down the corridor, not even looking back when the passage closed behind her.

‘What are you wearing?’

‘You look like a rag doll!’

‘Aphrodite could never be your mother!’

Piper covered her ears, ‘Shut up! SHUT UP!’

The taunts did not cease. Indeed, they grew louder, echoing in her mind until she was sure it was really her friends who mocked her.

She was growing steadily insane, and she knew it.