Falling
Summary: This is the Time where Nico di Angelo fell into Tartarus. Focused on Nico's POV
Disclaimer: I am a teenage girl. Therefore, by deductive reasoning, it is highly unlikely that I own anything but the general theme in this short story.
Nico didn't want to fall into Tartarus. It just kind of happened.
Prologue: Nico di Angelo had been scouting around the perimeter of the Underworld looking for a lead on his family (and maybe clues on Bianca's whereabouts) when a cold feeling ran an icy finger down his spine. The Son of Hades glanced around uneasily, searching carefully for any sign of monsters that just might ignore the fact that he was a Child of the Underworld and turn him into a demigod taco (it happened once-he'd run into a Cyclops who tried to eat him with extra-spicy salsa). He was alerted to a tunnel that radiated cold malice. Nico stared at it and sent tendrils of power into the tunnel to scout for things that would be hazardous to his health. Finding nothing, He did the thing any typical demigod would do: he sheathed his sword and marched into the gloom.
Nico di Angelo peered into The Pit and wished he didn't go down that that tunnel. Not only did the hole send out bad vibes, he could sense that it went straight down into Tartarus. The icy blackness that yawned out of the ancient depths had a strange pulling power that dragged random things into the darkness: rocks, bones, the occasional lost spirit. Nico braced himself against the pull of The Pit and gazed warily at the edge of the cliff barely an inch from his sneakers. Tendrils of thought snaked through his mind and whispered gilded lies into his ears: Why resist? Your family is gone. Your father turns away in disgust when he looks upon your face. You are the odd man out, the mistake, the freak. Why not jump in and end your sorry life? Nico gritted his teeth and slowly backed away from the Abyss. Why resist? Nico didn't really know. The only person who really accepted who he was had been Bianca. And know she was gone, reincarnated back into the world. Nico had nobody left to love. Lost in thought, Nico stumbled over a pebble and lost his footing. The pull of The Pit seized him and pulled him in like a rip current. Nico di Angelo let loose a guttural scream and clawed franticly at the cliff wall as it rushed past. He barely managed to catch hold of a spire of rock and stop his decent. His heart pounded, his dark eyes large and staring as he gazed at the nothingness under his feet. Hooded wraiths materialized out of nowhere and wailed at him, pawing at his clothes. Tattered robes swirled around skeletal faces. Glowing yellow eyes stared at him, glowing with hellish light. The Pull of Tartarus increased, loosening Nico's hold on the rock ledge. He wailed desperately as his grip slackened. He had suddenly realized that he did not want to die, despite his horrific life. Then, suddenly, the pull lessened. The wraiths dispersed. And then the ghost of a woman appeared in front of The Son of Hades. The wrenching power of Tartarus seemed to have no effect on her. Nico relaxed and stared into her eyes- eyes just like Nico's, but instead of burning with fear and hatred, they glowed with warmth. And she looked like Bianca- so much like Bianca, it was kind of creepy. Nico drew some strength out of that warm gaze and uttered, "Mama?" The woman smiled and said, "Yes, Caro mio. Do you remember, Il mio guerriero?" "Mama? Mama?" She gazed at him sadly and brushed his wild black hair from his eyes. As soon as her hand touched his skin, memories rushed into his mind. It was a hot summer day in Italy. He ran ahead of his mother and sister, laughing wildly as he chased fat pigeons from the sidewalk. Then the memory…shifted somehow… The fear in his mother's eyes as she read about the advance of Hitler's army, another son of the Death God, though Nico didn't know it yet… loading the boat…Another shift… The arrival in America, Nico's dissatisfaction as he gazed around the tiny flat that he would learn to call home… Then Nico lost hold of the rock as the pull of The Pit intensified. Clawing wildly at the rock face, and finding nothing, Nico drew his Stygian iron sword from his sheath, burying it into the cliff. He found himself swinging violently from the handle of the blade, dangling over the primordial maw of The Eternal Abyss. His mother materialized in front of him and started to talk urgently. "You must let go, Caro mio. You will survive. I will guide you. Let go, my warrior. Let Go!" And then she vanished. Nico stared at the gilded hilt of his black sword, at his pale, bloodied fingers scratched by the cliff. Then he gazed into the light radiating from the Underworld, and then at the cold maw of the Chasm below him. He stared at his sword (it would reappear in the sheath.)
And then he let go.
Nicollo di Angelo, The Ghost King, The Son of Hades, Fell into Tartarus.
Falling…
Falling…
Falling.
Authors Note: So, My first story. Obviously, the flashbacks are when Nico is 4 or 5. Hope you like. Review! :-) (P.S.: Does anyone know why "Tartarus" is called "Tartarus?" It kinda reminds me of tartar sauce... :-/) Oh, well. More stories coming up! :-)