Alone

Chapter 13

13. Bad Dreams

I've had many bad dreams before. Like once, I had a dream about this man with a knife walking up to me to slaughter me. Luckily, a girl with blond hair kicked his head and knocked him out. But this dream.....I have no words.

It started with a deep, wide pit. I felt the air get sucked into it, my feet doing its best to stay on the ground. "What is this place?" I wondered out loud. A deep, evil voice echoed through the pit.

"Why, this is the pit to Tartarus, my little demigod. You could be free here," it cackled. I took a step closer to the large hole.

"Free?" I whispered, hugging my arms.

"Yes," it hissed. "Those scars on your arms and back are only the begining of what we can free you from." I gasped.

"How do you know about them?" I rolled up my sleeves to look at them. They took up all the space in my arms, ending right before my palms. I didn't get these from the fighting today and I don't cut. These scars were born on me, each resembling symbols. My right arm had an owl, another a trident, there was a lightning bolt, a helmet, a dove, and a bloody sword. The basket of wheat, grapevines, peaconk, a sun and a moon, a winged sandle, and a hammer. I touched my back. There held my biggest scar, a pair of wings folded so delicately they appeared to be real. They never healed, nectar didn't work and no doctor could ever help.

"I know everything, dear. We could remove them and more." I whistfully looked at the scars. These made me different. I constantly hid them under jackets and long sleeves so no one would find out. "All you have to do is join our side and kill the gods." That was a crack in the deal.

"What do you mean 'kill'?" I questioned, reaching my pocket for Shadow Beast, only to remember I couldn't hurt it in a dream. I wasn't sure about the other way around.

The voice laughed, the edges of the pit crumbling. I stepped back a bit. "Kill! As in destroy the gods and cast them into Tartarus! They never cared about you. Your father never even told you who he was! He never loved you!" The laughing dimmed to a slight chuckle. "You should cut him up to a million pieces and throw him into this pit yourself. He doesn't deserve to have you as his daughter. But," it paused for a second. Suddenly the wind rose up, along with the rocks that had crumbled into Tartarus. It spun into a circle to form a giant, rocky hand. "I would treat you as my daughter. You could be a princess, the princess of the titans! Jump into my hand and I will free you."

I couldn't help but consider it. No more scars sounded good, but I couldn't kill the gods. "No," I breathed. The hand morphed to show an ear.

"I can't hear you!" it teased. I scowled.

"NO!" I screamed. "Not now, not ever! The gods have only ever been nice to me, protected me from being killed. And my father does love me! If he didn't I wouldn't be alive and in Camp Half-Blood!" I pointed at finger at the pit. "And I know who you are! You're Kronos." I tilted my head. "You know, I never getted why Rhea married you. Your face is demented, your heart is cold, and you live in a pit! Talk about a bad lovelife." Kronos grumbled inside the pit.

"I happen to know that I am quite the looker and have a wonderful lovelife. And Rhea married me because I have an amazing personality." I raised an eyebrow. He sighed.

"Fine, I threatened to kill her if she didn't, but that's not the point! You insulted the king of the titans, and for that you must perish! Die demigod scum!" The hand hovered over me and collapsed into debris. I flung my arms over my head, waiting for the umbarable pain. It never came, instead another powerful voice was heard.

"Kronos," the voice scolded. If pits could frown, he was doing his best. 

"Hello, Hades. How are you doing? How's life? Is the Underworld doing you good? Do you miss Persephone? If you join me, she can say with you all year." Hades frowned.