Another update for you, my lovelies. The beginning will have a sample of a chapter that may come up later in the oneshot series. Let me know if you would like to read the rest of it or not. Also, you guys will get to tell me what you want in the oneshot series. Dropping a message in my inbox or leaving it in a review would be perfect. Just a simple, "You should write about..." or "Do you know what would be cool? If you..." You can request background for your characters. You can ask for quests. You can ask for a character that isn't even yours but you want to know more about. Give me a challenge.
Also, my precious little baby is being introduced this chapter. They're not really that scary - well, not to me. A little bit of homicidal tendencies and an unstable mind is nothing to freak out about. Ayyyyyeeee, are ya ready? Officially, officially meeting the bad guy. The one who will do their best to make your characters lives terrible.
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or any recognizable characters.
Warning: Slavery, super creepy characters, graphic descriptions of violence, emotional trauma, heavily implied things here.
Hahahaha, this is about you
Beware, beware, be skeptical
Of their smiles, their smiles of plated gold
Deceit, so natural,
But a wolf in sheep's clothing is more than a warning
- Wolf in Sheep's Clothing, Set it Off
You've imagined your own life in a hundred different ways.
Running through the fields all day with your brother, throwing the white cotton that the both of you spent hours plucking from the trees at him when your Master wasn't looking and Mother wasn't there to reprimand you. Sneaking off and running away with nothing but the clothes on your back, making your way to the great city of New York to find a job and be treated like the white people are. Adventuring out in the wilderness, all on your own, trying to survive against the elements and having no one to talk to but the sky. You never thought you'd be afraid to go off on your own, away from your family.
You never thought you'd leave them like this.
I won't let 'em take you!
It's fine, Sammy.
No, it ain't Why are ya actin' like ya don't care?
Sam. I'll be just fine. Promise. There ain't nothin' you can do.
Your older brother was a riot in the beginning, throwing things in a rage and breaking down into tears (you tried desperately to get him to calm down, fearing what would happen if your Master heard you and came out), but in the end he is just as easy to handle as Mother was. They just needed to be reassured that nothing was wrong, and reassuring them is simple.
You hook pinkies with your ridiculous, endearing brother the next morning before you are taken, not even having enough time for a hug before your wrist is gripped bruisingly and you are dragged away.
Sam looks like he wants to run after you, but, to your relief and disappointment, he stays rigidly in place, watching as you are shackled and thrown into a carriage, only leaving when Master's voice yells at him to get back to work.
You try to ignore the chill creeping up your spine and settling in your bones as your new Master fills the silence with his mindless chatter. A thousand questions jumble restlessly in your mind, begging to be asked, but you know better than to open your mouth. The cuts that had long since faded away from the whip that was used to quell your tongue tingle with phantom pain. You want to know, though. Why this man of wealth and power that even your previous master respected chose you when he must have had plenty of slaves back at his estate waiting at his beck and call. He had to be rich enough. Someone was even driving his carriage.
"Right?"
You jerk to attention, cuffs clinking together with a sharp clang, and swallow nervously. "Right."
Although you don't know what he asked, you guess that you gave the right answer, judging by the pleased look your new Master has. You are torn between being relieved and terrified, because although he is now happy, you don't know what you have agreed to.
"Do you know why I chose you?" Your Master has an intense look in his eyes as he examines you, making you squirm uncomfortably.
At least he's answering my question, you think.
"No, sir."
The pleased look shifts into something even happier on your Master's face, which suits you just fine. A happy Master means a moderate life and no punishments.
"You are exotic," your Master says after a pause, never taking his eyes off of you. His voice is nearly a reverent whisper.
"You look like those across the border, but different. I have never seen one of you with light hair before. I did not even know it was even possible for a thing like you to have yellow hair."
What he says makes you grit your teeth, even though you have heard the speech many times before. White's don't think of you as a person. You're just a possession to them. An animal. At the same time, it makes your skin crawl. You're not ignorant. You know that sometimes the men do things with your fellow slaves that gives them more nightmares then a series of beatings ever could. As selfish as it sounds, you never thought it would happen to you. But now the possibility is there, looming over you with a thick, threatening atmosphere. You have to remind yourself to breathe as your heart stutters in your chest.
"You are beautiful, too." His hand brushes by your face, and you exert all of your willpower to not flinch away. "Your eyes are not brown." A thumb traces below your eye and nervous sweat begins to gather on your body. "They are golden. Such an exquisite thing should not belong with Smedley, of all people." His larger hand envelops your sweaty one, and by now you have to repeat the rhyme Sam that taught you three years ago about blue skies and freedom, repeating it like a mantra. A silent comfort. "So soft," he mumbles to himself. "You are the best ten dollars I've ever spent."
There's no stopping your shaking now, and you know your Master can feel it, along with your heart pounding in your chest. Some part of you hopes that he will leave you alone, but of course not. Not with your luck.
He takes this opportunity to pull you into a hug, but you don't feel comforted. It feels as though he's hugging you the same way the children you used to serve would hug their pet animal or a new toy.
"You are not perfect," he mutters in your ear, making you shake harder from how tightly your muscles are tensed. "Smedley told me what happened to your eye, but worry not. We can get something to cover it up." To your relief, he leans back, putting some distance between you. "I wouldn't have believed you were a spawn of one of those animals if I hadn't listened to the complaints about your birth. You're too beautiful to be working in fields."
Your throat feels tight. You wish you could scream at this man, tell him exactly how you felt. But you don't.
"What is your name?" he asks, backing off to look you in the eye.
That makes you balk. Your previous master never asked for your name. It takes you a moment to collect yourself before you shortly, shyly answer, "Lit."
Your new master makes a face that shows his obvious disapproval of the name. "Such a plain name for an exotic creature."
You bristle, trying not to lash out or break into sobs. Your name is the only thing that you have left, and this day has been far too emotionally trying for you to listen to someone insult the name your dear mother gave you. The mother that you will most likely never see again.
To your discomfort, your master notices your tears and reaches forward to shush you and cup your face. "I will not hurt you, Lit. I swear it on my mother's grave. If I do, you may strike me down where I stand and may my legacy be tormented by god forever. As long as you follow my instructions, no harm will come to you."
A stupid impulse comes over you, and before you can get a hold of your mouth, you hold out your hand and say, "Deal?" as though you were talking to your brother.
To your great surprise, instead of striking you or punishing you in some other way for speaking out of turn, he takes your smaller hand in his and gives it a little shake, the chains in your wrists jingling with the motions. "Deal."
There is a warmth in your chest that blooms like a flower in spring, spreading to the rest of your body and giving you a downright giddy feeling, and your hand tingles where it grips his.
"You will be a nice addition to the house, Lit. I look forward to having you with us."
You wonder why he went through such great lengths to reassure you, but brush it from your mind and mark it as unimportant for now. (He is probably like the some of the other adults, who think that they don't have to keep their promises to kids.)
But he made a deal, and that's all that matters.
"You think you're good enough for this task?"
The blonde girl knelt down on the ground and cried into her hands, shaking with the force of her sobs. The feeling of a phantom hand brushed along the back of her neck, brushing the hair from her back and swinging it over her shoulder.
"Silly, silly girl. You are almost in New Rome, you know. How unfortunate." Bony hands rested on her shoulders, arachnodactyly fingers curling and nails digging into her skin. When the voice spoke again, she could feel cold breath brush against her ear, chilling the skin and raising gooseflesh along her body. "They only keep you out of pity, you know. You can't fool them into thinking you will be of any help with negotiations." Pity and a protective note encircled the voice, grasping and pulling at her mind like chains. "You will stay safe, won't you? In fact, you should back out now. You will only get hurt if you stay."
The girl opened her mouth to speak, but her voice refused to cooperate with her mouth, so she settled with thinking as forcefully as she could, knowing that the entity would hear her anyway. This was not their first encounter, after all.
No. No. I have to stay. I have to help my friends.
A soft sigh sounded behind her, the same kind her mom gave when she was exasperated, as though the entity was dealing with a particularly stubborn child.
"How can you help them? Sing your enemies a lullaby? Perform a dance and hope that they do not kill you? You may be able to distract the weakest of enemies with your gifts, but the ones that swiftly approach will be quick to strike you down." There was a pause, as though the entity was allowing the girl to fully comprehend her words. "Ah, well, you can never say I did not try to warn you." The hands started combing through her hair in careful strokes. "You know I care about you, don't you?"
The thirteen-year old nodded, but was unable to lift her face from her knees, no matter how hard she tried, just like every other time their meetings occurred.
"Good girl," the entity coos. Its voice is a mess of different pitches mixed together all at once, ranging from abnormally high to freakishly deep and everything in between.
There was a brief pause where the entity moves away and the hands remove themselves from her hair, and the peaceful silence puts the girl on edge.
"Time to wake up!" The voice suddenly shrieked in laughter, and without warning there were hands on her back, pushing her forward, and she found herself falling, falling, falling-
"Yo, Bree!" The face of her half-brother, Aaron, stared down at her. His reddish eyes gleamed in the early morning sun, lighting them up in a warm way. Despite the easy-going smile he attempted, the concern on his face was still clear as day.
"You didn't sleep out here, did you?" Kieran, son of Eris, asked.
Bree could feel the blush rise to her cheeks under the scrutiny of her peers.
"Uh, yeah," she said, giving a horribly awkward laugh in an attempt to brush the matter off. "Sorry. I was just watching the sun go down, and then..." The rest of the sentence hung in the air, unfinished.
"That's alright," Emily said, stepping around her brother to come into view. Her feet made soft taps as they hit the planks of the floor. "We are almost to New Rome now, just to let you know."
A heavy feeling sunk into the pit of Bree's stomach.
You will only get hurt if you stay.
"Great - uh, that's - that's great."
"You okay?" Aaron pitched in again, leaning forward just slightly. "You don't sound too great."
"Yeah, um, just- I'm just - uh, airsick?" Was that a thing?
"Do you want me to heal you?" Emily asked, still looking skeptical, like she knew Bree was keeping something from her.
"Ah, no, really, that's -aha, I am one hundred percent okay! I mean, not okay, okay, but I'll get over it!" she rambled, hands fluttering nervously while she spoke. "Aha, I will be fine. More than fine! I'll be great! You know, it might be nerves! First official mission and all that, ya know?"
Kieran squinted at her. "You're sweating. And pale. Do you need to lay down?"
Now that he mentioned it, Bree could feel the cold sweat trickle down her neck and back, gathering on her face as well.
"N-no! I just woke up. I'm fine. Really. I just - I just need something to do. T - to keep my mind busy and all that."
"Ooh-kay," Aaron drawled, sitting back on his heels. "We are going to be there in a couple of hours. Maybe you could make sure everything is ready in the break room -"
Without waiting for her half-brother to finish his statement, Bree shot up onto her feet, vision momentarily going black as her head rush overcame her.
"Great! Okay! I'llgetrightonthatnow - BYE!"
The daughter of Apollo darted from the deck, listening to the others behind her argue about whether or not they should go after her.
Honestly, Bree was torn on the matter herself. Part of her wanted nothing more than to cry in someone's arms and sob about her problems. About the alternate personality she had created when she had gone through a brief phase of self-harm last year; an entity that seemed to simultaneously destroy her self-confidence and build her up. She told it everything. Hopes, dreams, wishes, fears - right now to the trivial things like how her breakfast tasted that morning and who she gained a crush on that day. Even if it was a part of herself, it still listened. It was ridiculously blunt and had a personality like poisoned honey, but it was the only thing she felt like she could tell everything to without receiving a lecture for her innermost thoughts.
On the other hand, the more sensible part whispered to her that everyone would do nothing more than think she was crazy if she told them. Really, Bree didn't want to lose the favor of her half-siblings and her friends. There was no way they would believe her or even know how to react if she told them what went on in her mind. So she disregarded the part of her that would sometimes surface and scream at her to get help from someone that she could see.
Bree dismissed a lot of things that she thought wouldn't hurt her too badly.
So she ignored the feeling of invisible eyes on her back as she walked down the hall, making her way to the break room.
The hallways were long.
Beautiful golden designs spiraled upwards, adding a mystical feel to the hall. Even through her shoes, Alicia could tell that the carpet was soft by the way her shoes sunk into the material. A seemingly endless amount of doorways lined the sides on the left and right, most with the same heavy brown door and fancy golden handle. Occasionally they would pass one that was different in a way; white marble, chipped and peeling black paint, a missing doorknob, fairy stickers stuck to the outside, and even one that was splattered with something that looked suspiciously like blood.
Walking through the hallway would have passed the line of creepy and descended into the line of petrifying, had Alicia been on her own. But she wasn't. The boy (who had laughed and when she asked if he was a boy and said, "Sure, kid!") was with her, and he would not shut up. Contrary to his first politely cautious appearance, he yammered on and on and on, getting to the point where Alicia would simply space out while he babbled, the words he was saying going in one ear and out the other.
"- which is when I was like, 'You can't put that on your head! The Angel's Trumpet is not a tea ingredient -"
Alicia had no idea where they were going or how long they had been walking for. The place was like a maze, having more than enough twists or turns to get lost in. The demigod couldn't help but wonder how the chatty person in front of her could even remember his way around.
"- isn't that weird? Oh, hey! Do you like Sarcasm? I recently heard it and I just absolutely adore it -"
Was there even a way to get out of this? They passed no windows she could go through. With every corner they passed, Alicia's sense of direction got more and skewered, dread weighing her limbs down when she realized that there was really no way to get out of this without outside help.
"- too flashy? I don't think so, but Soaring just loves to tell me that I have no fashion sense, which is when I said βάλλ' εἰς κόρακας because damn if that wasn't just rude -"
The urge to vomit got stronger the longer they walked. What would happen to her? Alicia clenched her hands into fists to keep them from shaking and did her best to keep her head held high. No matter what, she resolved, she would not let anything take her down without going down with dignity. She would fight tooth and nail to get out of wherever this place was, but if she couldn't, at least she would go down fighting.
"- just the cutest thing in the universe! Who doesn't like dogs? And a dog with three heads? Adorable! It was my idea to name him spot, you know- oh!" Leviathan paused to suddenly that Alicia ran into his back. A blush spread across her face, tainting her skin red with embarrassment.
"I almost passed it!" Leviathan continued, not even flinching from Alicia's weight ramming into his ridiculously thin back. Reaching forward, he grabbed the handle of a brown door that looked like countless of others. Alicia was in the middle of pondering whether or not she should ask him how he knew that it was this door they were supposed to be in and not any of the others that looked just like this one when he swung the door open and shoved her inside first, making her stumble and let out a shout of surprise.
Leviathan let out a grating laugh. "You're a riot, Corncob!"
Angry and baffled from the sudden nickname, Alicia sputtered as Leviathan walked past her without a glance.
"I brought you something, Pupa!" he chirped, sounding delighted.
Alicia scanned the room with wide eyes, taking everything in. The walls were a pastel purple that contrasted against the cream-colored carpet. Stickers of flowers, fairies, and skulls were stuck to the walls, some peeling off and just barely clinging on enough to not fall to the floor just yet.
A woman Alicia hadn't seen before looked up, cyan and ocean blue eyes locking. It was the girl who broke the eye contact first to run her eyes up and down her form, undoubtedly curious, so Alicia took the time to do the same.
She was a brunette like Alicia, but her hair was darker and braided beautifully around her head. Her face was gentle and pretty, her features making her look to be in her early twenties. Her skin was deathly pale, like she hadn't seen the sun in years. She was dressed in a white nightgown that pooled around her knees and complimented her form. She was a bit chubby, but it just seemed to add to gentle appearance.
The woman looked at Leviathan (who was grinning just a little too widely to be normal) with such trust and innocence that it threw Alicia off.
"A gift?" the woman asked, sounding like a child.
"A gift," Leviathan confirmed, nearly bouncing on his heels in excitement. "I picked her out just for you. She's a music doll!"
Alicia's brain decided to catch up to the conversation.
"Hey!" she protested, an angry blush heating her face at the way the two talked about her as though she wasn't in the room. "I'm right here!"
Wide ocean eyes looked at her in amazement. "You got me a doll that speaks!"
Leviathan laughed, sending chills down her spine. It didn't sound as nice as she had initially thought. Even his soft, charming grin she had secretly taken comfort in since she had woken up seemed sharper, more sinister. Had it always been like that?
"Only the best for you," Leviathan said indulgently, the same way a parent would speak to their naive child. "And of course she speaks! She's a music doll. She sings."
The woman looked amazed, staring at Alicia with an open mouth and glittering eyes.
"It wasn't hard, either," he continued, sounding proud as the woman stood up. Alicia, not quite fully processing the situation, stood completely still as the woman approached her in awe.
"It was nice to get out of the house. I haven't gone out since we brought you here," Leviathan yammered on happily.
Alicia reacted quickly when woman went to touch her face. Slapping her hand away, the terrified teen snarled, "Don't touch me!" She turned on Leviathan next, feeling strangely betrayed by the way he had lied to her. Despite not knowing him for long, she had relied on him more than she planned to. Hearing that he was the one to knock her unconscious and then bring her here was like a blow to the gut.
Ignoring at the guilt churning in her gut at the hurt expression on the woman's face, Alicia continued to sputter in rage at the too-calm blonde standing before her. "You kidnapped me! You tied me up!"
Foregoing answering her accusations, Leviathan walked up to the trembling woman and pulled her into an embrace, threading a hand through her hair. "Are you alright, Pupa?"
Something clicked. Pupa... Pupa means doll -
"Y - yes," the woman sniffed, lower lip trembling.
Sighing, Leviathan turned to look at her with an almost bored look on his face, his visible eye half-lidded. "You're more like a wild animal backed into a corner than I thought you would be. With your dislike for violence, I thought you would be a good companion for my Pupa." Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "Looks like we'll need training."
"Lev -"
"Your Higness," he said, smoothly cutting her off.
"What?"
"You will address me as Your Highness."
Alicia was shaking now. "Why are you doing this?"
Leviathan shrugged carelessly, detangling himself from the woman's hug. "I was originally going to leave you in that room for another couple of days, but decided not to. See, I can't decide if you should live -" his eye flashes red, pupil slitting, and sclera turning black before turning back to the burning gold -"or die."
"Wh -"
"Origionally, I was going to befriend or seduce you, but it's a bitch convincing people to like you, and I neither wanted to put in the time nor the effort."
Alicia stared, eyes blown wide in surprise. "You - you betrayed me."
Leviathan looked vaguely amused. "Well, you know what they say. Assuming makes an ass out of you and me. It's bittersweet, I'm afraid. Hey, look at it this way: at least you got a friend for awhile."
Alicia's lips trembled. "Someome will find me."
"I highly doubt that." Leviathan's lips spread into a Cheshire smile, eye alight with laughter, like he knew something she didn't. "Unfortunately, no one is allowed in or out without permission from me or my father." His eye crinkled.
For some reason, Alicia believed him.
"Why me?" she choked out, shaking and blinking back tears as her situation sunk in. She was kidnapped and never going home. She was in the hands of a psychopath who wanted to make her into some sort of living doll. But why her? Out of everyone he could have chosen, he picked her. It wasn't a coincidence. She had friends, family. There had to be someone else out there that would have been just as good and no one would even notice their disappearance. People would notice she was missing.
"You were free game," Leviathan said, casually sticking his hands into the pockets of his slacks and rocking back on his heels.
But what made her free game? Why couldn't he pluck anyone of his choice from the streets and whisk them away to here - wherever here was. He certainly seemed like he had the power.
"Call it your birthright," Leviathan said with an undertone Alicia couldn't place. "Enough about that. Regarding your stay, I'm sure you will grow to like it here." His eyes flashed blue for a fraction of a second. "Of course, such behavior of aggression will not be tolerated. Looks like you'll have to be put in the training program." His smile was sickeningly sweet, and in that moment, all Alicia wanted to do was run far, far away.
Bittersweet indeed.
Thanks, guys! Sorry my updates are taking so long. Reality is a pain in the butt.
First chapter of my oneshot series will go to TailsDoll13. The second will go to whoever can answer this first:
I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird, flying even to the clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me, even though there is no cause for grief, and at once on my birth I am dissolved into air.
What am I?
