Hey guys, I'm back! I've decided that I will be posting (or attempting to post) a new chapter or two every night. However, I will be going on a writing spree for the next few days as I might not get to right for a while (school stuff). Also, I am having bad writers blocck, so this will probably be a terrible chapter. But, Without further ado, I present: CHAPTER 3

~1000booksonthewall

Chapter 3

NICO P.O.V.

Nico wished he was dead. He should be dead at least, and he wasn't exactly enjoying life right now. He was lying on his back in a cot, transparent as a ghost. He remembered how he got in this condition, but not how he got here. He remembered his efforts to bring back the wounded from a battle cite, only to realize too late that he was fading into nothingness.

He had taken inventory of his... condition earlier that day. The cold was almost unbearable, but it seemed to have taken no affect on his body. It felt as if he was lying naked in the snow in negative fifty degree weather. The cold spread from his head to his toes, consuming him.

Oh, there was also the tiny problem of him being transparent. He hadn't noticed at first, but with a closer look, he had found it hard to focus on his own hands. It was like he was a ghost. Actually, cold plus transparent usually added up to equal ghost. Maybe he was a ghost, then.

What seemed like an eternity later, his friend Will Solace came bursting into the room. He immediately came and knelt next to my bed. Within seconds, he had tossed it back at me and thrown himslef away, eyes wide with fear. Another one of the stupid curses of a child of Hades. The curse of loneliness. Then, as if responding to his thought, the world around him began to fade.

The chairs and medicine bottles faded away, taking Will with them. As I watched my best friend fade away, I felt a scream begin to form on my lips. I had this dream many time before. It was the dream of tartarus. It had been one of the loneliest and sadest trips he had ever taken. And it didn't make it any better that the backround noise in the dream was made up of the voices of his friends and family, mocking him and calling him names- and telling him things about himself, terrible things, that he already knew himself.

But for some reason, this was different. The walls and floor around him turned white. And suddenly, a glowing figure shimmered into focus.

With a gasp of realization, Nico shot up in bed and spoke the name of the man he now recognized as the god he despised.

"Eros."