WARNING: Rated T- for mild horror. Well, not THAT mild. Just not as horrifying as my REAL Halloween one-shot special will be...
A/N: Hey guys! It's been a while since I've made a fic for Percy Jackson. If you don't know, I actually quit writing on my other account. If you wish to read some of my fics on the account that I quit, PM me. Be warned, however, none are finished.
This is actually dedicated to one of my friends IN REAL LIFE. Yes, you know who you are. You seriously need to give Percabeth fics a try. After forcing me to write a Vocaloid fic...You owe me, girl.
I'm pissed off right now (wonderful choice of words, eh?), so don't blame me if this fic ends terribly. You can blame my "friends" (that's right, you know who you are) for letting me write this story in my current state of mind.
This is also an early Halloween special for all of you lovely readers.
I will be making an official Halloween special later. This is just an early write.
Pardon any mistakes, this was not betaed and was created in what...10-15 minutes? I seriously need to take writing more seriously.
With no further ado...let the (mild?) horror ensue.
Midnight Stroll
"Stay away from the forest at night."
Annabeth had always been a rebel.
There were many words that she had been described as by her fellow villagers. Impertinent, wise, and sassy had been few of the many, but the villagers always agreed on one: rebellious.
The elders warned her. Something or perhaps nothing was right in the forest. An evil aura surrounded the border, warning the peasants and the nobles alike of a growing demon of sorts.
However, Annabeth was intrigued. Perchance the elders hadn't warned her, made it a rule, Annabeth wouldn't have been interested. But then again, perhaps not. Annabeth knew all, hence the dub, "Wise Girl."
But Annabeth wasn't wise. Of all days to visit the forest, she had chosen All Hallow's Eve, believing it would only add to the excitement. The day of the devil's spawn, she thought.
How foolish she was.
Annabeth observed the forest. It was a dark, mysterious place. A light fog surrounded it, encasing the trees whilst giving it a haunting personality. Annabeth, full of excitement, quickly stepped across the border separating the forest from the village.
She took another step forward. Then another.
After half an hour of searching, Annabeth became irritated. Had the elders tricked her? She wouldn't have been surprised if they had; it was a commonly know fact that the elders had a particular dislike for Annabeth. She had been in far too many places at far too wrong times. Karma, she thought, for tricking her she would reveal the secrets the elders had carefully concealed from commoners like her.
Of nowhere, a bush began to rustle.
An average commoner would not have been able to tell the difference between the wind and a person purposely doing so.
But Annabeth knew better.
Something, or someone, was purposely vying for her attention.
The rustling began again, except it seemed closer than before.
"Who's there? If you're trying to scare me, you should know better!" yelled Annabeth. Years of adventure had nullified her fear. She was a girl that feared none, but everything the same.
A dark chuckle reverberated around the trees.
"I carry a gun!" cried Annabeth, in a futile attempt to scare off the mysterious intruder.
But if Annabeth was truly being honest, she wanted the person to appear; she wanted him, or her for that matter, to threaten her; endanger her life.
"You should listen to your elders, young lassie."
Annabeth jumped at the voice. And what a voice it was. She could only imagine what the owner looked like. Pale and ghastly. Like the religious teachers had described Kronos.
Donotturnaround, Annabeth thought. She knew if she turned around her face would give away her fear, or lack thereof. It wouldn't be good for her if the voice found out she did not fear. The predator needs to believe it's seeking the prey, not the other way around.
"I don't see why I should, considering I do not know of you," she replied, cracking her voice to feign fear, and yet still turned around from the voice.
"Fear. Fear is what you lack. You're perfect," whispered the croaking voice, slowly fading.
And for a reason unbeknownst to Annabeth, she believed the owner of the voice was gone.
She released a maniacal laugh and began mock the voice.
"Fear. Fear is what I lack? I am perfect? Why, thank you good sir!" she laughed as she merrily danced around the forest.
Skipping over strange plants hidden by shadows, she began to sing.
Do not go across the border, young lad
For across it you go, you will go mad
Upon the night, when twelve it strikes
Begone with you, the devil likes
A hand clamped over Annabeth's mouth, forcing her jaw shut.
"I would be quiet, little girl," slithered out the voice.
This voice...sounded like pure and unadulterated evil.
"Mmph!" yelled Annabeth, though the sound was muffled by the hand.
Annabeth began her attempts to fight off her captor as soon as her survival instincts kicked in, but to no avail.
"You will come with me whether you like it or not..."
"Is this the girl?"
"Yes, master."
"And exactly how is she satisfactory! The girl is simply skin and bones!"
To an onlooker the sight before them would seem of normal happenstance. They would only see a handsome young boy, around the age of seventeen, with raven-black hair scolding a much older one, perhaps a servant, for doing a job wrong.
They wouldn't see anything wrong with the picture.
But that was what The Mist was for.
"Wake her up," the man commanded, his tone firm.
"Yes, master."
The older man quickly got up to his feet and shook Annabeth up, all the while still bowing his head.
Annabeth groaned and began to stir.
"Quickly! Wake up the wench. NOW!" yelled the boy.
The man began to shake Annabeth at an unsteady, much quicker pace, fearful of the boy.
Annabeth's eyes quickly shot open and observed the area she was in.
Men...no. Creatures surrounded Annabeth.
Creatures of the unknown. Some were half animals, others human-looking, almost everything Annabeth had ever dreamed of inhabited wherever she was.
That's right. She was in the forest.
It didn't hit Annabeth as strange, she believed her eyes were playing tricks on her; they often did.
Mermaids, nymphs, fairies.
But they all had one thing in common.
On each and every creature, dark and crimson red marks stained their bodies.
Blood.
"I see you are awake," stated the boy. All creatures stilled out of respect at the sound of his voice.
Annabeth turned around to see who was speaking.
This...boy, perhaps around her age had a different aura around him. One that screamed power. And evil.
His position was much obvious to the Wise Girl, he was seated on a throne, scepter in hand. Anyone else would have shivered in fear, but not Annabeth. No, not Annabeth.
Instead, she felt a sense of belonging. And as twisted as it was, Annabeth believed she belonged to be on that throne, to sit at the right hand of the boy.
"Yes. And pray tell, what is it to you?" asked Annabeth, still defiant, but nevertheless shaken.
The boy chuckled darkly, "Feisty. I like it."
Annabeth stilled. It was as if every part of her body had turned into gelatin, she couldn't move a muscle even if she wanted to.
"I am quite surprised that you can see through The Mist. Either father has become senile and weak, or you are the One as Lucas seems to believe."
A man-like creature whimpered, and the sound was much too familiar...The Voice...
"And exactly what is this Mist of yours! And must you kidnap me for no reasons of all!" cried Annabeth.
"SILENCE! You will listen to me, and not speak at all," commanded the boy.
And for the first time...Annabeth felt fear.
And so she bowed her head submissively and waited or the boy's further instructions.
The boy smiled, a dark, twisted smile.
"That's more like it. Though, it would have been nice had you disobeyed me. Now wouldn't that be fun, right Lucas?" smiled the boy.
"My lord, please," whimpered Lucas, as far as Annabeth could tell.
"After all, you did attempt to runaway with that wanton, Thalia. You think that bringing this girl will save you! I must admit, she is a fine specimen, but nothing will suffice to pardon you," continued the boy.
He did not yell, he simply talked. And yet his voice held so much power.
"Perseus, please!" yelled Lucas.
"Do not call me that anymore, Luke," sneered the boy, who Annabeth could only now think of as Perseus.
It was a fine name, a powerful one, too. It suited the boy well.
The boy snapped his fingers, and with the snap came a cloud of darkness. It swirled around the forest, until it reached Luke and wrapped him. The cloud seemed to constrict around Luke, slowly squeezing him to death. It soon became far too much for Luke and Annabeth could only imagine the pain he was in. Luke began to cough out blood, and the cloud continued to constrict, as organs began to slowly flow out of Luke's mouth. A bloody heart, the veins and arteries bloody and popping open began to spill out, his large intestine followed after, and shortly came the small intestine. Blood was spilled and splattered all around the spot where Luke had been murdered, and few demons attempted to approach him. Those who did died right on the spot and others heeded the warning and stepped as faraway as they could without offending their master.
"Anyone who wishes to die, can step up now."
The leftovers glanced at the marred bodies of creatures who had attempted to save Luke. The least of the injuries were dislocated heads, while other heads had been completely separated from their rightful places. Some bodies had exploded, much like Luke's had. Bloody intestines and organs were spilled everywhere on the forest ground. A green slime covered the trees and slowly slithered down, a product of the explosions.
Annabeth watched...in absolute delight. A giggle escaped her lips as the horrified creatures and a smiling Perseus turned their heads towards her.
Perseus chuckled once again, "You find delight in the sadistic deaths of people you do not know of? A cruel girl, indeed."
Annabeth smiled as creatures began to murmur, frightened that another sadist would rule over them. They had carefully chosen a maiden who seemed of good nature: brave, fearless, and kind.
"Master! What a mistake we had made! This wench is not the One as the prophecy Daphne had predicted! Remember Thalia? Yes, she was the one!" shouted a brave creature, a centaur it seemed.
Thalia was dead, everyone knew of it. But, no queen was better than an evil queen.
"Thalia is dead. And she was of no use. I do not see why you keep bringing her up, I will never be attracted to her no matter what drastic measures you attempt to take."
"You're wrong! You murdered her!" yelled the same centaur.
Stifled gasps and a few yawns filled the air.
"Oh please. Like I never murder anyone," waved off Perseus.
"You...You monster!"
"And exactly what are you then?"
Annabeth hadn't realized she had spoken until Perseus's eyes met hers.
It was the first time they had seen eye to eye...
Nothing was said for what seemed like eternity.
"Kill her."
"But master!"
The prideful, rebellious centaur was quickly pushed out of Perseus's mind and replaced by thoughts of Annabeth.
"I said kill her."
The creatures wailed, but each were joyful they would not have another sadistic leader.
However, none approached Annabeth, fearful of whether their master was playing a joke on them or not.
"None of you will?" Perseus smiled. They were fearful of Annabeth, andtheyshould, he thought.
Anyone who approached Annabeth would die.
"No one? Good, good. I'll have the honor then," smiled Perseus.
Annabeth looked at Perseus in horror.
"I can runaway easily! You have not bound me with chains, rope, or any of the sort!" yelled Annabeth, defiantly.
"Then why didn't you run earlier?" questioned Perseus, raising an eyebrow as he slowly ascended from his throne.
"I..."
Annabeth didn't have an answer. Even if she could run, she wouldn't have. Fear was something she lacked in her life, and she was far too intrigued to leave.
"You?"
"I...I couldn't," Annabeth confessed.
"I know," smiled Perseus, nearing Annabeth.
But Annabeth still did not run.
She didn't give up, either.
"You can't kill me!" she cried, "I know you felt it too!"
"Felt what?" Perseus bitterly laughed. Yes, he had felt it.
"The..."
"Too late," Perseus interrupted.
And with a deep breath, plunged a knife, tainted by his own blood, into her heart.
Perseus smiled at the sounds of his bride-to-be screaming in pain.
He reached down to pick Annabeth's body into his arms and walked back to his throne.
Stroking her cheeks, he chuckled.
That's it.
Don't understand what happened? PM me.
People who don't review will be stabbed, and not in the way Percy did to Annabeth!
Now, I'll be making my 8k+ worded REAL Halloween special. -sigh-
