Percy Jackson had no clue where he was.
Which wasn't really all that new.
The last thing he knew he was laying on the couch watching a movie with Annabeth, now he was laying outside, on the ground, in front of Camp Half-Blood.
What?
He meandered his way past the gates, and gazed over the hill at the camp. The camp was the same one he knew except it was darker, and a lot busier.
He made his way down the hill to the big house, searching for anyone he knew.
"Hey! What are you doing here?!" yelled a voice from behind him.
Percy jumped about a mile.
When he turned around he found himself about 3 inches away from a very, angry, punk kid.
Well, more like a punk teenager/ young adult.
"Well?!" said the girl, tapping her foot impatiently.
"Um..." said Percy, sensing that it wasn't a good idea to tell her his real name, "Peter Johnson."
The girl took a few steps backwards.
She looked him up and down.
"Well then, Mr. Peter Johnson, you better come with me."
As Percy followed this girl, he managed to get a good look at his surroundings.
More specifically the girl.
She had short, almost shaved, dark brown hair.
She wore a ripped orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt (Well, he was assuming it was a Camp Half-Blood shirt. He really hadn't gotten a good look), baggy camo cargo pants, and combat boots.
Then he got a look at his surroundings.
The sky was red, and the ground was black.
It reminded him kinda of Tartartus, which he did not want to be thinking about. So he tried to push it out of his mind.
Then he saw something that shocked him, something that never belonged at Camp Half-Blood.
Actually multiple things.
One, there was a whipping post, with a check in line. Except for the check in you had to write your name in your own blood and do the Turkey Trot.
Two, there was no canoe lake. In place there was a mass grave with human bodies and old Barbies.
Three, all the campers were currently undergoing brutal training. One kid was walking around in what appeared to be a swimsuit with nothing else on. The freezing weather wasn't helping as the kid appeared to be walking over tacks and razer wire.
He glanced over and saw a group of young men, young men in dresses and high heels. They were probably not very comfortable.
And the rest were currently being subjected to beatings with soda cans, sticks, and Hot Wheels racing track pieces.
Somewhat a normal day at any school gym.
Four, there was currently a line to...to...to...a gallows?
What was that doing there?
"Hey, what are those people doing?" asked Percy, er, Peter.
The girl turned and looked at him, as if he had just dropped out of the sky.
Which Percy has some experience with.
"You don't know? They are either mortal, or convicted traitors against Krono's regime."
Percy was about to ask more when he got hit in the leg by a cart.
A cart full of bodies.
Percy felt sick, but what was worse was the fact that he recognized the top two dead bodies.
Nico and Bianca De Anglo.
"What's going on?!" He asked, panicked, "What is this place?! Is this some kinda sick joke?"
The girl stared at him like she saw this everyday.
"This is Camp New-Blood." she said.
"Camp New-Blood?!" he said, outraged, "Who are you?!"
She squinted her eyes before saying:
"Annabeth Chase, Daughter of Zeus."
This is a colab story with KarmaPlaysMean13. Please review and rate. (Or is it the other way around?)
~In demi-gods we trust.