As I wander through the underworld, I wonder why I came here. It's not like I do it often. I used to but now that there's not very much stress, I don't need the place I think clearest. I only come here when I need to, because a place surrounded by death isn't the kind of place you want to spend your life. I have an eternity waiting for me here anyway. This place is still how I remember it, a crowded, dark, lifeless cave. Except for me. As of now I am the only life that resides here. Well, me and the plants that can trap even the gods here forever. I try to stay away from those. I don't want to spend the remainder of my life here, no matter how small the number of days.
Of course, I could find out. I don't want to, but I'm a child of Hades. It's hard to say no to me. I can be very… persuasive. Let's face it, I'm the son of the Greek devil, for Zeus's sake! I can kill, read death, feel death, and summon dead. I'm not very friendly, either. I have a three foot long tool of death that I haul everywhere. So I don't exactly fit in the most alluring on the list. On any list, not even the half-blood list. I'm angry, secretive, and I'm hard to deal with. It takes even the bravest souls, like Percy, bless his heart, to be around with me.
See, me and Percy have a hard past. I liked him, everyone for that matter, my sister died, I blamed him, he saved my life, tried to help me and I never did anything that helped him. Well, minor things, ones that didn't really matter. I did bust him out of jail so he could become invincible. Of course, I wasthe reason he was in there. And he had to drag me out of the underworld and protect me from an army of the dead. So that just makes me owe him more. So, yeah, I'm very hard to put up with.
Bianca tries to tell me I'm not all bad, that if I feel this guilty about it then that means I have a heart. She even tells me if I get cleaned up then I might be kind of cute. In the 'mysterious but alluring way' she says. But, hey, what is my sister supposed to say?
I silently size up all the work that would take. I would start with a bath. Wash all the grunge off of me, all the way down to the dirt in my fingernails. Get some new clothes. They could look raged but they can't be actually raged. My face, oh the scars. Everywhere, really. I think they add character, but the magazines in the bathrooms at camp say that scars on the face aren't attractive. They also say that too many scars make guys look dangerous. They say a 'polished' look is best. And that big muscles are a sign that says 'I'll protect you'. I don't know why the Aphrodite cabin leaves their magazines next to the toilets, but it needs to stop because they're jacked up. I know guys that have big muscles who couldn't care less about girls. Do girls actually believe that? 'Do you care?' says the the regular Nico. The disturbing thing is I think I do. I'm not scrawny, but my muscles aren't as big around as my head. I have an eight pack, you have to if actually participate in sword fighting. Would girls still go for me? 'Stop thinking that, Nico' There's the voice of reason 'If you think it you'll start to believe it'. Good point. This isn't the kind of thoughts that usually run through my head. Just another sign something big's about to happen. I wonder…
A moan awakens me from the wondering. Good thing, too. I look over to where the groan came from. The Field of Punishment, now that I'm focused I can hear all the groaning. The whole chorus now. It's loud, hard to believe I couldn't hear it just a moment before. How loud was the groan that awakened me? I absent-mindedly walk towards Elysium. And while I do, I can't help but think about my hair.