A/N Hey guys, I'm new to PJO fanfic community, but I've had this story running around in my head since i read From the Brink by darkmyyst which you can read here /s/5167972/1/From_the_Brink
Disclamier: I do Not Nor will ever own anything from PJO or From the brink by darkmyyst( some parts are taken from their story)
Introduction/ prologue
Camp Half blood
It was a peaceful day.
The sun was shining brightly and the clouds were thick and puffy. A slight breeze kept the temperature at a perfect level and whistled soothingly as it passed through the trees. The U-shape band of cabins stood in pristine condition. They had all received fresh paint jobs recently and looked as though they had just been built. The grass seemed greener than usual, and the Big House more…blue than usual. Of course, this was all natural weather for Camp Half Blood, surrounded by its magical boundaries that kept out even the rain. Even the baying of the hellhounds in the forest was low and muffled.
A very peaceful day.
Minus the angry Demi-god that was storming across the camp, making a beeline for the bright sky blue barn shaped house, Sunlight bounced in all direction off of her golden hair, and a fiercely worried angry burned in her storm gray eyes. The owl earrings and bead necklace she wore jangled as she walked.
Correction, stomped.
Her name was Annabeth Chase, and she was nineteen years old. She was angry, choleric, exacerbated, seething and the list of words could go on. They can't do that can they? After what he did? He's been corrupted, he's too far gone. They couldn't…could they?
She had reached the Big House. She leaped up the steps in a single bound and marched to the door and yanked it open without slowing a step. When she was halfway across the foray, and entered the large conference room doors.
There were several people clustered around a table. At the head, deep in conversation while sitting over a chess board, were a centaur and a man. The man was wearing a cheap Hawaiian shirt and was holding a Diet Coke in his right hand. His left hand was casually gesturing at the ground, where vines were growing as if from nowhere. The centaur, whose lower half was a beautiful white stallion, looked up in surprise when Annabeth stormed into the room.
But she ignored him, both he and the man. She had eyes for only one person in the room. A girl in black clothes with torn sleeves, she had a silver bracelet and looked uncomfortable yet content all at the same time. She had short, spiked black hair. She looked up and her blue eyes locked onto Annabeth's gray ones. They widened slightly, and Annabeth could see the thought racing around in her brain.
Annabeth charged her, and grabbed two large fistfuls of her shirt and pulled her face close. "No more excuses. I want the truth. I don't care if it comes from you, Luke, Chiron, Mr. D. over there, or even the gods. I just want an answer."
Annabeth glared at Thalia until she finally glanced away under the force of the daughter of Athena's gaze. Annabeth knew that she had won. Normally this would be impossible. Thalia would normally have thrown her right outside the door; straight on her butt the instant Annabeth touched her clothes. But this was different. This situation made them all...vulnerable. Annabeth looked at Thalia for another minute in silence before finally asking a single question. Even though it was only whispered, it sounded loud as a church bell during a funeral in the silent room. . .
"What the Hades do they mean, 'We're releasing him?"
Tartarus
It was dark, dank, gloomy pit, surrounded by a wall of bronze, and beyond that a three-fold layer of night among the undead sentenced to Tartarus for eternal pain. It smelt terrible like rotten flesh and the only sound was blood curdling screams and in a deep corner A tall and broad figure towered above a small cowering in the darkness dipping his scythe in the magma, while the left was guarding the only exit out of the corner.
"Now Perseus Jackson…" An ancient metallic voice thundered "Since you shall be leaving me all alone to my lonely self, I must give you a present to remember me by." he said in mock hurt
The tall figure brought out the glowing scythe and pinned down and pressed it to the bare flesh of the sickle in them young man. The fresh smell of burnt flesh combined with the Screams of agony and Hurt made that the worst place in Tartarus. Obviously pleased with his work the tall figure walked away and spoke slowly "You still have my welcoming present don't you… don't worry both my presents will work great together" he laughed once more the stocked off into the darkness. Hours passed before Hades's guards of Tartarus appeared got him dressed and dragged him out and passed him to Grover and then they were on there way to camp Half-Blood.
Please review and Constructive Criticism is always welcome
