Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Percy Jackson universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of Rick Riordan
The First Demigod
Chapter:1
From The Abyss
Pain…
Suffering...
Misery...
His whole existence revolved around those words.
He was in absolute darkness. An oppressive, all-filling darkness that threatened to swallow his entire being. His eyes had given up trying to see anything in the darkness for a long time. He had never succeeded in adapting to the blackness. Instead, he just drifted endlessly, doomed to remain in this darkness for all eternity.
He still remembered his earlier stage of torture. He had been so full of hope, pure of heart and optimistic that this was all just a mistake. That soon one of his countless companions, friends or relatives would help him out. Would look for him, find him and save him. But these were only dreams, hopes fitting for an illusion. An imagination that we would dwell in a utopian world. A world of honour, truth and respect. But reality was far from that. An almost endless time he existed like this, longing for the very moment when everything would reveal itself. He would wake up, back on Mount Olympus or it would become light and his friends, his family would tell him that everything was just a joke. But it would never come to that.
He had lost track of the duration of his meager existence for quite some time. It could have been years, decades, maybe even centuries. He would never know, but he couldn't care less.
His short-term periods of sanity had passed too often, too small were the signs, apparent only to him, of the blossoming hope of freedom that was to perish more quickly than he ever thought possible.
Thus, he lingered in his dark isolation and rotted away from the light, from the world, from nature itself. For this seemed to be his fate.
His destiny. He had always fought to be the master of his own actions. He hated to hand over the responsibility for himself to someone else. Ever since he was born, he had seen that the world he lived in was corrupt, merciless and brutal. This gave him the motivation to fight, he wanted to change this world. He truly believed in the good in the world, in his opinion there was a possibility of redemption for everyone. He did not differentiate between God or Titan, man or woman, he treated everyone the same. Perseus had his shortcomings, by no means would he deny this, but he did not fight for pleasure, but because he truly believed in what he stood for. Despite his past, he would describe himself as pure without being arrogant.
Until that one day. The day on which everything should change. His thoughts were distorted by an all-devouring rage. His sanity slipped away, back was the madness, born from the isolation in the darkness.
How dare they betray him like this? What had he ever done to them?
He squirmed in his chains and let out a deafening scream. But the darkness encompassing him would not answer.
He hung lifeless in his chains. In the deepest hole of Tartarus.
From his own family he was thrown before the feet of the devil. The latter rejoiced, the anticipation of a new soul to torture had long consumed his entire being. So, he departed from the world and instead dragged him into the depths of darkness.
He was literally buried alive. Below the foundations of Tartarus, just above the void he should exist but not live.
Earlier, he had once thought about what was in the void. What would happen if he were to simply fall? Would he just disappear, cease to exist? If so, it would be better than that. Anything was better than that. So, all he felt was the void consuming his being for every agonizing moment. Again and again, it seemed to absorb everything that defined him.
More and more he found himself in a state in which he just existed. He was unaware of his surroundings. He merely hung in his chains, forged from a substance he was not familiar with. It drained him of his strength, kept him weak. Early after his imprisonment, even breathing was difficult for him. Now he no longer felt it. The constant feeling of weakness had passed over in him, was ignored. It was a part of him.
If only it were that easy to deal with the pain. Ever since he could remember, he had been plagued by pain.
Moving wires clinging to his body had driven him mad. Soaked in the five rivers of the underworld.
In the Styx, the river of hate. That he would remember the upper world from where the river began its course. That it falsified his emotions until the hatred had consumed him for eternity.
In the Acheron. The river of misery. So that he would forever remember the feeling of better times. Knowing that they would never return.
In the Lethe. The river of forgetfulness. So that his only happy memories would always vanish into thin air. The only thing left behind, a sense of something missing, in a place once occupied.
The penultimate river. The Cocytus. Thanks to him, he was plagued by screams in his short sensible phases, originating from people he could no longer remember.
And finally, there was the Phlegeton. The river of fire and healing. Funny what. Blazing fire that burns like hell, but actually heals you. Merely to enable the victim to suffer further agony. Only Tartarus himself could get such a brilliant idea.
Numb from the pain, he drifted out of reality again, back into his illusions.
A loud breathing broke the silence. He was awake again, or rather he was aware that he was awake. This was good, as he did not remember the last time, he was able to reason. He opened his eyes... and saw absolutely nothing.
Right, there was something
Darkness - imprisonment - eons of torture. He had almost forgotten.
He groaned and tried to turn his head. Below him was still the void, to the left and right only an impenetrable darkness and above him a rock-like ceiling.
Ceiling? Perseus jerked his head up and stared at the never-before-seen ceiling for the first time. Was he imagining it, or was he truly attached to a cliff?
Never before had he spotted that. 'Never before have I been in my sane mind for so long,' Perseus suddenly realized in passing. Before, he had always been surrounded by darkness, but now he could actually spot something. Even if it was only a boulder to which his chains were attached. For this would mean that the boulder led somewhere.
His thoughts suddenly became clear, his formerly so often praised will flared up again and a small glimmer of hope spread through him. It was real, a way out existed. A possibility that could lead him to freedom. A way that would lead him back to the gods of Olympus. A way that would grant him his revenge.
Perseus tore at his chains. They began to smoke, burning into his skin again. The pain seemed to get the upper hand, but not today. Today he would reclaim his destiny. From today on, he would once again determine his own path. He ignored the flaring pain and concentrated on the one thought that made up his entire being.
The escape from his imprisonment.
Perhaps a higher power was favouring him today or he had simply been too long in this prison, but for the first time was he able to move in his chains.
He raised his hands and clung to the chain. His feet were just dangling down, almost touching the void. In the past this would have filled him with disappointment, but today was different. Today everything should only steel his will and help him in his escape.
With all his strength, which had once been enormous, he reached up with his hand and gripped a piece of the chain tightly in his hands. Blisters immediately appeared and he almost let go of the chain, but thanks to his absolute concentration he managed to endure even the worst pain.
He had remained in his prison for too long. The time had come to move on. Perseus knew that he would probably not be able to summon up the will a second time to attempt an escape.
He focused on everything that defined him, all his experiences, his personality and the sacrifices that had befallen him. And he combined all this with his desire, his almost animalistic drive for vengeance. He managed to climb up another meter.
All his life he had fought. Born in a cruel world. A freak without parents, without siblings. All he had then was himself. He was born in the darkness, the shadows were his home, pain an old acquaintance.
Another meter of distance between himself and the void. He could already feel the pull easing. Shortly he would have made it.
He already was a man, covered with scars and with experiences that truly no one had earned, when he saw the light for the first time and then it only blinded him.
Another meter. His whole hand seemed to be on fire. His entire body was screaming to give up. It was pointless. His whole existence was meaningless. He should surrender to his torture again. Pain, misery and suffering. It was all endless, unavoidable. It was easier to let himself go. But his head, his will was fighting against it. Perseus would not give up, not now, when he was so close to finally escaping.
All the years he had fought. He had stood up for his ideals. He had fought with his supposed family, the gods. His bloody fight, man against man against Atlas. They had fought for hours without stopping. The Titan of strength against the first demigod, wielder of the Sword.
His sword. His faithful sword. It alone stood by his side all along.
He would recover it and once again stain his blade with the blood of his enemies. Nothing would stand in the way of his revenge.
With a final effort, he reached the underside of the boulder. The void seemed to cry out desperately for him one last time, but he was finally out of reach. His hands, burned and scarred by the chain, were again numb with pain. His nerves were probably completely fried. Yet he had never felt better. For the first time he was free again, or rather one step closer to freedom.
With a sigh, he looked down for the last time into the roaring void. He had spent so much time here.
He turned his head again and examined the chain's attachment to the rock. He realized that it was definitely no accident that he was able to escape.
The chain had not been in perfect condition to hold him for a long time. Too long had its service been strained.
Perseus held on to an angular piece of stone and pulled the chain out of its holder with his other hand and let out an ear-splitting scream. A chain soaked in the rivers of the underworld and able to neutralize one' s powers would prove useful in the future.
With one hand, he hung from the ledge. He looked around and analysed his surroundings. Everything was still dark, but he could sense that he was near the exit. And so, he set to work to finally escape from his
He was alone. Again.
But that was his fate as he had gone against the wishes of his parents. Cursed to this miserable existence.
He used to be alone all the time and will remain so throughout his entire life. The only variety he was allowed to enjoy were the same unusual attacks of a Drakon. Thus, he became his best friend and his worst enemy.
He longed for the sun, for the stars above the big wide world. The fighting, the bloodshed was so pointless in his eyes, against his very nature.
But all he was to have now was a single hut, in the middle of an endless swamp.
However, something should change today. At the latest when the lonely figure of a single person appeared on the horizon.
Author Notes:
Today, when I was rummaging through my files a bit, I noticed this chapter. Written at an earlier time and forgotten afterwards.
Since I found the chapter too good to just leave it there, I just published.
Moreover, a familiar character might return in the next chapter. Who that might be...
Whether I will continue this story is entirely up to you. I am busy with other stuff, but if the interest is big enough, I will continue the story. So please review and tell me your opinion.
Until next time
Rezurex
PS: Next chapter is coming soon