A/N: Here's a new story for y'all, except not that happy. This fic contains graphic torture, sexual references, and many triggers for anxiety/PTSD so please don't give yourself a flashback/panic attack by reading this! On the other hand, in my twisted mind, here is the first chapter of this story! I have written out a plotline and summaries for all the chapters, so I'm sure it won't become one of those abandoned stories we all see too many of.
DISCLAIMER - I do not own the Percy Jackson series or any of the characters in this fanfiction.
The first thing Percy heard was the grinding of metal against metal.
The sound tore through his stupor like a hellhound was being torn apart, limb by limb. The screeching, burning confusing noise broke him out of mindless sleep, and his body felt heavy and worn. He tried and failed miserably to lift his head, with eyes still glued shut.
Then he remembered.
The dark. Stepping out of his cabin into the middle of the night. The shadows, the shadow men. The chasm. Falling, falling, into the dark, only this time without Annabeth. Falling, dying, then black.
He felt sharp chains bound around his wrists. His shoulders were aching and strained, and his fingers were stiff. His clothes were ripped off, with a few shreds of t-shirt hanging from his belt, and only a pair of shorts beneath his bare, freezing chest. His legs felt like lead weights.
Above all was the stench. Like rotting corpses mixed with monster ash and the yellow pus where monsters reformed in Tartarus.
Slowly, painstakingly, Percy peeled his eyes open.
The room was dark. Two shady, slumped figures hung on the wall opposite, near a derelict metal door. The only light came from a fading and flickering bulb that hung from a single wire in the ceiling, and the chains holding the other captives were rusty and jagged. The floor was covered in dried blood. Percy choked back the bile rising in his throat.
One of the figures lifted his head slowly, and Percy froze mid-breath.
"Well well, if is isn't Perseus Jackson. What brings you here, son of Poseidon?" The figure laughed hauntingly.
"Apollo, shut up." This voice came from the other figure, whose head stayed low.
"Don't mind me, little sis. Just welcoming our new inmate."
Percy struggled to form two and two in his mind. Speaking was even harder, and when his voice came out, it was a cracked whisper.
"L-Lord Ap-p-pollo? Lady Art-t-mis?"
"Still polite, even when you're chained to a wall." Artemis looked up. "What a mess you are, young demigod."
A drop of blood trickled from the corner of Percy's mouth. He shuffled so his feet just touched the floor. "Where are we?"
Apollo's voice turned grave.
"Percy, you're back in Tartarus."
Percy's stomach fell through the floor.
Artemis continued, "This is the deepest, darkest place outside of the palace of Night. It can only be found when you know exactly where it is. Kronos and his allies have used it for centuries, to extract information concerning his enemies in the mortal world, and hold those trying to stop him from reforming."
Percy tried to form a coherent thought. "Kronos can't have reformed by now, can he?" To be honest, nothing was out of the question at this point, considering the existence of a room in Tartarus than could only be accessed by those who knew about it.
"No, my boy," said Apollo. "This is worse than Kronos."
Percy was about to protest - what, inside of Tartarus, could be worse than Kronos? - when an ear-wrenching crash broke through the wall opposite.
His breathing intensified, and he was panicking now, his eyes wide. "What the Hades was that?" he said desperately.
Before either god could answer, the door was flung open. Behind stood a wasting and haggard Zeus - wait, Jupiter? His form flickered between the two like a glitch in a computer game. On one side, a derelict Greek philosopher with tattered and shredded robes and hair that looked like it had been half torn out - on the other, a war-crazed Roman aristocrat with bared teeth. The two forms shared only one physical feature. They both had hollow, sunken, purple eyes that looked like they hadn't seen the sun in decades.
"You will not speak. You will not shout or scream or make any sort of noise, save if it is to tell me WHERE YOU HID MY BOLT!" The figure addressed Apollo in a manic wail.
"I don't know, I told you!" Apollo's voice was desperate. The glitching Zeus' jaw curled, and he slammed his fist into Percy's chest. He whispered softly.
"Your cousin lies. He will tell me, and you will help him." He pulled out a knife. It was an angry, cruel blade, with jagged edges that reflected the dull light from the bulb in the ceiling. He spoke to the twins, but staring Percy directly in the eyes. "If you do not tell me, I will tear this demigod apart hour by long, slow hour. For starters," he brushed Percy's hair out of his eyes, "we will give you a taste of what I can do."
He put the knife to Percy's upper arm, and drew a cruel, agonising slash down his bicep.
"STOP, JUST STOP THIS!" Artemis screamed.
Percy closed his eyes in dread. The pain of one scar was almost unbearable, like Zeus had poisoned the blade with gorgon's blood or shadows, like Nico's sword.
Zeus pulled the blade out of Percy's arm and turned to face Artemis. "I told you, NO SPEAKING! That'll have to be punished..."
He turned back to Percy with a sadistic glare, and in less than a second, thrust the knife into Percy's shoulder. He screamed in agony. Zeus wrenched out the knife and threw it to the floor. He then picked up a bucket of water from the corner, and threw it over Percy.
"We'll continue this tomorrow." He stalked out, flashing between Jupiter and Zeus and laughing manically.
The water was cool, but not enough to heal the chasm in Percy's shoulder. He closed his eyes and started to sob. He was lost, in a forgotten part of Tartarus, in agony and with no hope. No Annabeth...
A haunting melody in Ancient Greek reached his ears. It ran through his veins, filling him with sorrow and healing, a strange mix of feelings. He opened his eyes. Apollo was singing, a beautiful, crying song, fixing his shoulder and swarming the room with a flicker of hope. In defeat and exhaustion, Percy drifted off into a blissful oblivion.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I know I'm horrible. Please review so I can see where to improve as time goes on, and I should have the next chapter out within a week.
Also, go check out my other stories on my author page!
~FlamesOfHestia