The Secrets Behind the Demigods:

NICO

The screams kept waking him.

Who was it, he thought. Was it the voices? No, it couldn't be. It was myself. I'm scared of myself.

It had been days - or was it a week? - that Nico had fallen to Tartarus. His stomach lurched constantly and repeatedly, becoming more horrific and breaking each movement.

At least he had the seeds. The pomegranate seeds that could only sustain him for a shrivel of time. He just had to hold onto his life. Should I eat one, he pondered. I know I'm going to die.

The tears dripped down his cheeks, falling into darkness and eternity. He was tired, hungry, and weak. He wanted so badly to see Hazel and Bianca... Bianca...

The air whooshed up into his ears, causing his eardrum to be painfully strained always. When the void pulled him in, he could only think about the past. What had happened. What he wanted. He needed to live his life, he knew deep down he wouldn't be with the others anymore. He remembered how much he loved them, some more than others. Hazel... and Percy...

He shouldn't be grieving on Annabeth dating Percy. Ever since he saw her flirting with him; and when they kissed... Nico was so full of angry he felt drained of his happiness. He wished they were in his place. Ever since Percy and Annabeth rescued them, Nico had always looked up to him. He felt, stronger with him. More powerful. Like a big brother, or a friend. He wanted to him, he's just afraid what the others will think of him. He is angry at Percy, let Bianca - his sister - get killed. He didn't help her.

At least Nico still had a sister - yet she was a half-sister - Hazel. Hazel loved him, but she was living a second life. It was weird having a sister who should be dead. Without her coming back to life from the dead - Nico wouldn't have known she even existed.

Nico had a compassionate love, and an eternity of hatred for Percy.

He always wanted to be more than friends to him.

Hunger was taking a slow and grueling toll on Nico's body. He was painfully thin; with sunken eyes and a deep nose. At least he had the seeds. They were in his shredded pockets. At least he wanted them...

My sword! Nico thought. His jagged obsidian blade was strapped to his black jeans, probably faded from him falling. It would be a huge use to him in the future. He thanked the goddess Fortune for his great luck and remembrance! He nudged his side with his elbow, and sure enough, it was there. He swallowed and coughed, and flew to his back of the momentum.

He spotted beneath and the dark void was getting - brighter! Since he hadn't seen light for days, his pupils enlarged and his legs shook. He saw the hell that it really was, demons - monsters - hellish imps. Up to this point, it scared him. But he was stronger than this.

His small body made impact with the horrific, dirty ground. He took a sharp breath, and he thought it was his last.

It didn't - hurt. It was shockingly cold.

He looked and saw the rouged terrain and jagged mountain and reddish size. Demons, deities, creatures flying. Ready to hunt or be hunted. Thickets of gnarled, nasty thorns popped out of nowhere. The air - every puff - was harder to breath. He felt himself getting weaker. He felt - lost.

Since that cold liquid was something, it could be water. Water was the main priority. He was already dying of thirst. He felt the moistness leave his mouth and wanting there to be something to quench his thirst. He plunged he trembling and nimble fingers into the potent stuff. It burned him - yet it was cold.

What could it be? Water? Something so cruel and horrid it kills you instantly? Was it so intensely burning that it felt freezing?

He scooped up a cupful, and drank up.

It cleared his sinuses at first. He swallowed and he felt it plop into his belly. His eyes intensely seared, like someone poured pepper into his eyes. He scream and shook, the stuff convulsing him. It felt like he had eaten all the campfire in the world. He felt his skin getting hotter, heating him up. It was too much, but Tartarus was chilly, so it warmed him up. The hot mixture boiled his insides, making him want to scream and cry and hurt all at the same time. He felt his stomach acid boil up and up, violently shaking him in discomfort. It felt like he just ingested pure molten gold.

He remembered from a class at Camp Half-Blood about this horrid thing - the River Phlegethon - it was where bad and wrong sprits went before they went to The Fields of Punishment. But why would the tortured souls come here? Was it so they could endure something?

He looked at the scrapes on his legs. The wounds and punctures started to close. The skin turned more flesh-toned. He was being healed.

Nico knew he had to escape this.

Dad, Nico prayed, I need something. I know you're busy and all, and I'm just one of your annoying kids. But can you do something? Something to help me. That's all, nothing huge, just a small favor.

He stood with his head in his small palms. He just needed something.

After waiting for an hour - was it an hour? - Nico was holding onto his living. He knew his Dad - Lord Hades himself! - loved him. He wouldn't let him die. He was going to die from the elements. Hunger was making him miserable.

He saw a red horse emerge from the ledge Nico was standing near. Nico's legs turned to lead and his heart dropped into his stomach. It had these orange sparks and embers flying off of it. Its eyes are pitch black and it had leathery alizarin crimson wings. It had hooves, but they were formed into sharp claw-like things. It looks like it rip and person - even a demigod - into pieces within seconds. Did Hades send this? It flapped its strong, powerful wings and landed next to Nico. It had a small bag latched around it's neck and Nico lifted the flap and there was a paper inside.

"What's this?" Nico asked himself. "I didn't even thing Dad cared about me that much. After all, he let Bianca die." It read:

Dear my beloved son, Nico,

Please take this horse as a token of acceptance. He isn't so kind - he's a fighter. He'll help you get to The Doors of Death and escape. The horse will be your companion. Name him, it'll make you feel more attached and alive. Scrape it out of your mind. The other's know you're here - in Tartarus. I... I love you Nico. You'll get out. Bianca is safe here with me. Her soul is not in vain.

From your father,

Hades

The horse - or whatever it was - nuzzled him with it's snout. He was nudging Nico to get on. Nico ran over to the River Phlegethon and scooped some water in the sack Hades gave him as he knelt. He was keeping it just for emergencies. He lifted one leg over the horse and hopped on. Strange as it sounds - it didn't hurt him, miraculously! It was very rough and hard. He touched the flaming horses scalp and stroked it. He needed comfort. He rubbed it's head and thought:

You need a name.

Nico quietly pondered his idea. It was lucky of him that he hasn't been attacked yet; there were hundreds, perhaps even thousands of demons and monsters. Nico had his blade, but that can't kill such a monstrosity of creatures. The horse he was riding was fidgeting and it looked like it could fight. After thinking for a while, he had the perfect idea.

"How about Brenton?" Nico asked the flame horse. The horse snorted out smoke and nodded his head. Nico took that as a yes.

Brenton raised his leathery crimson-blood wings and flapped. Nico was surprised at how strong and fast he was.

"Away Brenton! Away! I'm stronger than this. I am free! I am powerful!"

Nico and Brenton flew of into the into the sky, as the others entities lifted into the air.