(A/N) I had a lot of schoolwork and I had to update my other story so pLEASE DON'T BE MAD.

Also, thank you so much NoTearsFalling for your review, but I don't think that making this rated M would encourage viewers, nor would it be fitting for this story, since there is not much cussing or any sign of sexual-ness. I know the gore is pretty bad, but I put it in as horror for a reason. I'm still grateful for your review, and I just wanted to answer your questions.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

Nico woke up in a state of panic, as if he had been yanked out of unconsciousness by a fishing hook. This was due to the fact that he mistook the black blindfold around his eyes for blindness, and while he blinked his eyes rapidly as anxiety consumed him, he soon felt the relieving sensation of fabric shifting over skin. That, however, didn't solve his problem of imprisonment. He thrashed and writhed where he sat, which was in a rather uncomfortable wooden chair that caused all of his muscles to seize up, and found that the bonds were very strong and held fast. His wrists and ankles were tied down to the arms and legs of the chair, its coils thicker than a grown man's fist as they snaked around, tied tight enough to keep in place but loose enough as to not cut off Nico's circulation. The air was chilling, and with his aviator's jacket gone, his orange T-shirt didn't provide much warmth. He noticed that his Stygian Iron sword was missing, though he wasn't surprised; any good bad guy knows to disarm their captives before binding them.

After much hesitation, Nico called out into the darkness, "Will? Jason?" His voice was so hoarse that it came out as barely a whisper, though it split through the silence like a gunshot.

"Yeah?" A wave of relief washed over Nico as he heard the equally ragged reply from Jason, however when he waited for a few moments longer he didn't hear Will reply. Was the son of Apollo still unconscious? Nico didn't think so, and his mind drifted to the much worse possibilities. "Calm down, we'll figure this out," Jason assured him, and Nico only then realized how heavily he'd been breathing. He wasn't sure how they were to solve this problem, for had he been able to shadow travel he would've done it by now, and something told him that they were deep underground, so Jason's lightning powers wouldn't be of much use either. That's when the squeal of incredibly rusted hinges startled both of the demigods into a stunned silence.

"I was thinking that I take blood from that one," said a rather unfamiliar female voice, which sounded young yet held so much maturity, much like that of a god or a legendary monster like medusa, and Nico had heard that tone often enough before, the tone of an immortal who had seen so much in an expanse of time that would make a mortal's eyes pop out of their heads. Nico wanted to know what happened to Will, but, with the obvious presence of a supposedly unfriendly group in the room, he decided that that was the very least of his worries. He sensed the death pulsing off of them in tidal waves of pure energy, much like when he'd been around Perseus, only this was amplified to such a severe magnitude he feared that he would pass out. The new arrivals in the room were undoubtedly demons, but Nico didn't think that the overwhelming feeling of carnage was a result of the amount of them, which he guesstimated was three due to the pairs of footsteps; he suspected that it was coming off just one individual, and that the rest's auras were simply overpowered by this one's.

"Are you sure, ma'am? The blond one is of more powerful descent-" a masculine voice asked, his tone rather uncertain, but he was cut off by the woman who had previously spoken.

"Did I ask for your opinion…err…?"

"Jedidiah, Mother," the demon, Jedidiah, seemed quite hurt that this Mother person had failed to remember his name.

"Now why did I name you Jedidiah? I must've been drunk, but anyhow I want blood from that one, since I didn't ask which one's blood you'd prefer. I'll have the blond's for lunch and compare," Mother replied, and it took a few seconds for Nico to realize that it was his blood that she wanted, though "the blond" could be either Jason or Will, however judging by Jedidiah's comment about more powerful descent, Nico could only assume that he meant Jason. That and the fact that Will's absence must mean that he wasn't on the menu. Nico wasn't sure whether that was a good thing, meaning they weren't going to drink from him at all, or a bad thing, meaning that they'd already eaten him and therefore couldn't eat him a second time. His panic for Will's safety had to be pushed to the back of his mind, for that was when a rough, callused hand seized his arm in a death grip. He let out a cry of alarm and began to writhe, however that's when he felt the demon's fingernails morph into claws, digging into his skin.

"Sit still and shut up," the rough voice of Jedidiah snarled savagely, no longer sounding the slightest bit human. He dug his talons in deeper, and Nico bit back a scream; though he had endured much worse at the hands of Tartarus, the withheld power coursing through the demon's fingertips signaled that he could rip the son of Hades' arm off with a single flick of his wrist. It was quite terrifying, and the fear in itself was enough to make Nico want to wail, though he supposed that was just the demons' auras talking.

What Nico didn't expect was the cold blade of a knife pressing down on his forearm, and he finally allowed himself to shriek in pain as a deep gauge was made into the skin, almost down to bone, and he felt blood beginning to pour out like a waterfall. He could sense the tension in the air as all of the demons no doubt watched it drip onto the floor, but then he heard the telltale clicking of heels on stone as the demon, who Nico could only assume was Mother, approached. She dipped her finger in the pool of blood that was forming on top of the demigod's arm, causing him to yell, and the sound of her lips smacking together made a shiver travel down his spine.

"Nico?" Jason cried out from somewhere to his left. "Nico what's-mfffff!" Jason's cries were muffled by fabric, and Nico began to feel a bit lightheaded. He was losing so much blood, and now he was pretty sure that Mother was holding a bowl under it, judging from the metallic sound that his flowing blood now made, which was much akin to the sound of a trickle from a bathtub faucet hitting the bottom of the basin.

"He's getting pale…well, paler. Stop the blood flow," Mother ordered suddenly, and all at once Jedidiah and an unnamed other was on him, their fingers tracing over the gash. At first Nico writhed and screamed in pain, however when he realized that he felt his skin closing he ceased his struggles, going limp in his chair as the dizziness overcame him, pulling him into oblivion.

-Ω-

Perseus handed Will the knife, a thin slice of iron that was sharper than the average cutting tool, and the son of Apollo's heart rate sped up considerably. He knew he was doing this out of his own free Will, but that really wasn't the case; Perseus would stop feeding him if he didn't feed him in return. Perseus had, luckily, brought a bowl with him to catch the blood.

"Luckily Mother does it this way as well, but some of the oldies like to drink it straight from the wound. Sure, blood tastes nicer when it's that warm, but if you drink it like that it's kind of difficult to restrain yourself," Perseus told him, causing Will to shift from foot to foot uncomfortably. "Also it would be kind of awkward, since for the record unlike in the Anne Rice books getting your blood sucked out isn't in the least pleasurable."

Will laughed uneasily and asked, "Do you like blood from a certain, I don't know, place?" At this, Perseus threw back his head and laughed heartily, the cool mirth echoing throughout the cell.

"If you took blood from my favorite place you'd bleed out within minutes," he replied, still chuckling a bit in between words.

"Where-?"

"Your jugular."

"Okay, I'll just cut…my forearm?" Will asked hesitantly, wondering whether Perseus preferred bicep blood to tricep blood.

"That's fine," Perseus replied, and his stomach took that moment to let out a guttural roar, completely unlike a human stomach's. This didn't console Will in the slightest, and he began to wonder whether he should've taken the starving route, since Perseus was making this seem like he'd have to donate more blood than the son of Apollo really was willing to. Will extended his left arm, which was trembling, so that it was parallel to the floor. Perseus looked on with a hawk-like gaze, his pupils slitting like a viper's and, unnervingly, staying like that for longer than usual before they returned to normal.

Slowly, Will raised the knife and made a long cut from an inch below his wrist to an inch above his elbow, and though the incision was fairly deep, it wasn't enough to kill him. He winced, his face tight with pain, and allowed the knife to clatter to the floor, its surface caked in his blood. As thick, sticky crimson began to pool and overflow over the sides of his arm, Perseus held up the bowl and caught the droplets when they fell, a small puddle of blood beginning to form at the bottom. It didn't hurt, really, but the thing that made Will's heart pound was the fact that Perseus had frozen, like a big cat freezing when its prey looked in its direction, his eyes trained on the trickles of blood in a rather animalistic fashion. The demon's whole body was tense, like a viper poised to strike, and at any moment Will expected the black-haired monster to lunge at his arm and drain him until there was nothing left. With that fear lingering in the recesses of his mind, he kept his eyes trained on Perseus, as if he were one of those Weeping Angels from Doctor Who that would attack if he looked away, though this time instead of letting him live to death the consequence was death.

The bowl was almost full, and Perseus hadn't made any move to suck Will dry, however Will could never be sure as he kept one eye on the demon and the other on the bowl, which was almost full. Just watching his blood mass into such concentrations made him a bit faint, though he wasn't sure whether that was just the sheer amount of blood. I was beginning to harden and dry on his arm, proving quite a discomfort, but he didn't dare move it as he caught Perseus' tongue darting out to soothe his lips, which were nowhere near chapped.

"Will this sustain you?" Will asked, his voice pinched. "And if so, for how long?"

"This will last a day or so, maybe two, I mean it's practically a pasta bowl," Perseus replied, though he was clearly distracted, hell bent on watching every single drop that fell into the ever-growing, and rather large, pool that awaited below.

"A… pasta…bowl? I-I-think…that's enough," Will rasped dizzily, his knees threatening to buckle as they trembled violently. Perseus seemed to snap out of his trance and quickly set the bowl down, the mass of Will's blood sloshing around sickeningly, though Perseus was careful enough to make sure that not a single drop escaped.

"Here, let me see it," the demon ordered, and Will didn't even have the energy to resist, extending his arm to the fiendish beast. For a muted moment he considered the fact that Perseus was trying to sink his fangs into his flesh and then go all Dracula on him, but it faded into the slow-moving, blurred flow that were his thoughts. Instead of biting him, despite the fact that blood caked the son of Apollo's arm, Perseus actually smoothed his thumbs over the two edges of the wound, trailing forwards until they met at the center, and by then it was completely healed. Had all the blood not been there, one wouldn't've been able to tell that there was a wound in the first place.

"Thanks," Will said, his voice a little too airy and out-of-breath. Perseus caught the son of Apollo when his knees gave way, but then he stood their awkwardly for a bit and then dropped him. Hard. Proceeding then to shadow-travel away