Apparently, I'm Dead

Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. 

PERCY JACKSON

A very, very buff man with an eye-patch appears at the head of the Thanes' table. He steeples his fingertips and looks down at the hushed crowd of einherjar. "Perseus Jackson-"

"Percy," I mumble under my breath. Magnus coughs, probably trying to stifle a laugh.

Odin (at least I'm guessing) looks vaguely annoyed. "Yes. Fine. Percy Jackson." He coughs, trying to get back in the groove. "I have been looking forward to your death for many years."

I raise an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Odin smiles and pulls out a laptop. "I have a long PowerPoint presentation for this very topic. Here, let me just get to the first slide."

A Slides presentation pops up on the screen where people watched me die. The first slide is titled, 'A Game of Poker.' I shiver. I've always hated poker.

Odin clears his throat and begins to speak. "So, one night a couple of decades ago, I met up with Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades to play our centennial poker game. We had a couple drinks, ate some godly food. Those Greeks sure know how to party!"

I shift uncomfortably. What does this have to do with me not being in Elysium?

Odin seems to read my mind and continues, "We had a bet. Whoever lost would have to give their greatest hero in the next five decades to the other's afterlife. I won, obviously."

The world spins. Is something squeezing me? I can't breathe. Why would I be here, then? I'm nothing compared to Annabeth or Jason or Leo. Leo came back from the dead.  And even if I was the 'Greatest hero in the next five decades,' why would they do this? Why would they just trade their hero's soul away?

I begin to shake. Only later am I told that it wasn't me that was shaking, but the entire dining hall. My voice comes out strange and distorted. "They traded me? They sent me from one life of fighting, into an afterlife where I still have to fight?" I want to say, "My own father traded me?" but that would sound pathetic.

Odin nods, smiling. "They have given you a chance to earn great glory!"

I barely hear him. In fact, I don't hear anything after that sentence. Great glory? I have more than enough glory from everything amazing I've supposedly done. I just want a peaceful afterlife with my friends, not one where I have to continue to serve the gods. Do I not deserve some rest?

I fall back into my chair. I'm done. I just want to sleep. I'm tired. I'm so, so tired. Of fighting, of war. Of responsibility. I put my elbows on the table and my head in my hands. I just want to sleep. For the rest of my life. Death, whatever.

A couple minutes- hours? Gods are long winded- later, I'm shaken awake by Magnus and Alex. Alex smiles at me mischievously, her different-colored eyes gleaming. I shiver. Way too many pranks from the Stolls tells me to be wary of that look. "It's time to fight to the death."

"WHAT?!"

TIME SKIP

So apparently, in Valhalla, you fight to the death every day, and come back to life before dinner. Or breakfast, if it's after dinner. So, I left a life of war to arrive in one where I fight to the death every single day. Joy.

I'm currently being marched into a room the size of the throne room on Olympus. Coiled in the middle of the room are an entire pile of humongous dragons. I've been told there is a schedule, and you only fight dragons on Thursdays. I'm so confused.