Hey Guys! So this is the first chapter of hopefully a good story. I'm still debating on continuing it or not, it all depends on popularity. If I do I have a story line planned, but I'm open to ideas and thoughts. I currently don't have an editor so if you're interested PM me. Put any thoughts in the reviews good or bad or meh. Honesty is the best policy! Hope you enjoy!
I slowly scanned the somber fields before me, some brimming with paradise unlike anything found in the world above, others filled with cries of agony and unimaginable torture. The vast cavern before me showed no light of day. Only the fires that blazed below revealed the sight before me. This was my home. The Underworld. The land of the dead. Hell. Everything that made me feel relaxed and at peace. Despite this, a pit raged for fulfillment inside my heart. I turned my back to the fields and stared at my "home". Home was quite an understatement for the looming castle. Modeled after the old Olympus, black granite and shining bronze instead of Olympus' white and silver adorned its exterior. Red fires blazed from its windows, revealing the utopia my father resided in. It normally gave off an eerie sense that gave visitors the feeling of impeding death, a feeling I quite enjoyed. Yet today it looked unfulfilling, devoid of something, which only caused the pit in my heart to cry out more. With a sigh, I decided to walk up its looming stairs hoping that maybe it would cleanse this need.
As I approached the doors, two skeleton army men bowed to me and quickly opened the large elaborate doors. I nodded back to them and entered the foyer. The doors quickly slammed behind me leaving me once again alone greeted by only silence. It was the middle of the winter so Persephone and her nuisance of a mother were not her to scold me about how I was too skinny and that I needed to eat more cereal. With a chuckle from that mental sight, I began slowly pacing the room wondering aimlessly to myself. The ornate room was all too familiar with its fine tapestries displaying famous death scenes to the collection of skulls and bone fragments from former heroes. I stopped at the large mirror that hung from the wall shocked at my reflection, one I had not gazed upon in years. It had been fours year since the battle with Gaea. Many heroes had been lost but thank the gods none of my friends gave their lives. We got very close at times though. A feeling of uncertainty and fear washed over me. I shuddered at the disturbing memories of seeing Hazel mentally tortured by Gaea, who haunted her with guilt from raising her, Annabeth screaming out of fear, trapped in a room full of spider, and Percy… Percy tied down almost sacrificed in the ancient lands.
"ENOUGH!" I cried out ending the flood of painful memories. Little by little, I slowly looked back at my reflection. I had changed a lot in the past four years both mentally and physically. For one I had gotten much taller, now reaching six foot six. After four years, my sister's old leather aviator jacket grew too small for me to wear, so I had a Hephaestus kid make the leather into a bracelet cuff engraved with, "For Bianca…" Besides that I wore a black Imagine Dragons concert t-shirt from a time I shadow traveled to one and black skinny jeans. My sword from years ago stayed strapped to my side, still there to protect me from danger. Looking at my face again I noticed that my face had chiseled out, no longer holding any baby fat from the boy who played Mythomagic. The naïve and cowardly boy who fantasied about the gods was no more. Instead stood a somber and analytical man who preferred the shadows and quiet instead of talking nonstop about frivolous things. I stilled looked pale as ghost though, despite my Italian background. My hair was longer and shaggy, jet black and falling over my eyes. I slowly reached up and moved my hair to reveal my eyes. The dark orbs had the shape of my mother but held the wildness of my father. They carried years of sadness, loss, brokenness, and….
"Nico!" a voice called out. I knew that voice anywhere with its charismatic flair that made someone want to fall asleep forever.
"Father" I responded as I pivoted to look at him. He wore a black Italian suit, with a black shirt and tie. His ebony hair was slicked back in a coif manner.
"What brings you home? I hear you have been roaming the Earth. Particularly Italy…" he said slowly stepping closer to examine my reactions. It was true, after the war I could not bare to handle the emotion of feeling so many people die around me. Despite my friends protests I left to wander Italy feeling closest to my family there. Yet slowly the pit in my heart grew and grew so I decided to head back home, yet that did nothing to quench its need.
Hades' eyes roamed my face looking into my soul and found his answer without me needing to say a word. "Nico. I believe you are going about this quite the wrong way. If you continue on this path of darkness, you will end up mad or kill yourself. You don't want to deal with Dionysus nor do I want to see my son being judged far before his time."
"Dad, you're basically the God of darkness, what are you saying?" I questioned.
"I'm only the God of death, Nico," he corrected clearing his throat, "here's some advice. Death is nothing without light. If there was no light do you think people would fear death as much?"
I looked at him stilled confused and slightly frustrated, "what do you want me to do?"
He chuckled to himself, amused at the thought of my near future with this new information. "Go see your friends Nico. I'm sure they'll be able to help you out."
"But, wait, what am I…" and with the snap of his finger my world became pitch black and icy winds ran straight through me.