Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the PJO and HOO universe. It is, sadly, the work and genius of the author Rick Riordan.
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Gabe never expected to see his punk stepson Percy again.
By all rights, he never should have.
When that twerp showed up in his apartment, Gabe had every right to call the cops on him. Regardless of innocence or not, that kid Percy was a pain in his rump. He wanted him gone.
Finally, the pest left. Not quickly enough, Gabe thought.
"Hey, Sally!" Gabe yelled impatiently. Where was that woman? What was wrong with her? Why was she never there when he needed something? "Where's that meatloaf?"
"Coming, dear!" A voice called from the kitchen.
A moment later, Sally Jackson entered the room, carrying a tray covered in tinfoil. It looked like a roast and stood nearly a foot tall.
"Finally!" Gabe exclaimed, stuffing a handful of nachos into his mouth. He chewed loudly, the cheese sauce dripping down his double-chin. "Now that's more like it! But is it a meatloaf, or what?"
"It's a surprise," Sally spoke softly, with an edge that was unfamiliar to him.
Gabe narrowed his eyes. "I asked for meatloaf."
"Eddie, Garret, Jorge, come with me," Sally commanded. "I need some help in the kitchen."
Gabe squinted. Who was she to give orders? "They're going nowhere," he said. "They're playing poker with me."
Sally shot the guys a look Gabe did not understand. They got up immediately and left.
"You guys are all idiots!" he yelled.
Sally herded them into the kitchen, letting the door slam shut after them.
"Fine," Gabe said. "More for me then."
He shoved back the table and pulled the tray toward him. He very faintly registered that the tray wasn't even warm to the touch. He whipped off the tinfoil wrap.
He screamed. A hideous face stared back at him with hideous eyes.
Gabe felt a burning in his eyes, in his head. He felt like he was falling.
The next thing he knew, he was standing in a building, waiting in line like some other nameless miscreant. He pushed his way to the front where a man in a grey silk suit waited.
"Where am I?" Gabe demanded.
The man smiled, a slow sardonic grin like a snake. "Ah, we are expecting you, Gabe Ugliano."
"Wh-where am I?" Gabe demanded again, this time with less bravado. "H-how do you know my name?"
The man gestured to the right. "This way."
Gabe was going to protest, but something about the man scared him. So instead, cowed, he followed the man into the elevator.
The doors closed, locking Gabe and the strange man inside. The man hummed, "Another One Bites the Dust" as the elevator descended.
They dropped for a long time, longer than Gabe had patience for. More than once, he was going to demand answers from the man, but couldn't summon the courage.
Eventually, Gabe realized they were in a boat. The man was rowing it. He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
They stepped out onto a black sand beach. They passed a huge dog with three heads and growled threateningly as Gabe passed. They entered a black marble pavilion.
All at once, Gabe realized the scary man was gone. He was alone. And he was transparent.
Three men sat in front of his, wearing golden masks. The first spoke.
"Abusive and cruel," he said disapprovingly. "A moron and idiot in life. Lazy and nasty. Smelly too."
Gabe blanched.
"He made life difficult for the master's enemy, Percy Jackson," the second said. "But unpleasant, unkind. Spiteful and malicious."
"Ungenerous and vile," the third said. "Wicked. Do we agree on his fate?"
The freeze that had taken Gabe thawed in an instant. "What are you talking about?" he yelled. "What do you mean? I demand you release me this instant! I demand to speak to my lawyer!"
"Dense," the first said.
"Rude," said the second,
"Disrespectful," the third said.
All three stood. "Gabe Ugliano, you are sentenced to the Fields of Punishments to pay for the crimes of cruelty, stench, and stupidity in life," said the first.
Gabe was at a loss for words.
"Begone, spirit," said the second.
The next Gabe knew, he was sitting at his poker table. But something wasn't right. He couldn't move. He felt encased in cement.
Screams reverberated all around him,, chilling him to the bone. Junk food lay strewn across the surface of the table. But Gabe could not reach any of it. The smell wafted under Gabe's nose, tantalizing him.
Statues of his friends Eddie, Garret, and Jorge sat next to him. They were made of stone, each with an expression of agony engraved on their faces. They looked like they had seen something horrible.
The fires of hell lit his friends' stone faces, turning them a ghastly, smoky red. They sat around a perpetual poker table, unmoving.
All at once, it occurred to Gabe that he was dead.
And he was stone along with them.