Artemis knew Apollo didn't say those kinds of things randomly. Well, he wasn't exactly smart enough to say things like that, but he was the god of prophecy – and that spirit only woke up when there was something serious.

But she was pretty sure it wasn't that serious. They could figure out the details of that sentence later. Right now, she had more pressing matters on hand, like slaying the beast that threatened Olympus. She'd dealt with it once, and it was a very messy affair, to say the least.

She spoke into the silence spreading over the little group, the deep thoughts running through everyone's heads almost absorbing her voice.

"Well, brother, I must take leave. The matter is related to the General. And, no, you may not flirt with my Hunters."

He put his fake smile back on again – but not before an expression of concern and fear graced his features.

"Well, I can't promise about the flirting part, sister, but try not to die," Apollo said, smiling jokingly, but she could hear the concern in his voice.

The last bit of conversation she heard was, 'ah, how I despise switching my sports car to a school bus in front of pretty ladies' before she was off on the track of the pungent scent of the monster.

Even though Apollo assured her several times that Zeus would not be able to interfere with his Sun Chariot, she couldn't help but grip the frayed seat of the grimy, yellow school bus, the metal rods poking into her palm constantly.

Unfortunately, Thalia was driving. She was apparently scared of driving because every two seconds she'd dip the bus dangerously, either burning off something in the mortal world or dangling vertically, as if the Sky was holding them with a thin, delicate string that could snap anytime. Even Apollo was scared. He was sweating, even though he was playing it off as if everything was fine.

Finally, when Thalia almost fainted in front of the wheel, Lisabelle asked Percy to take over before Apollo crashed them into the trees and killed them, but Percy couldn't move. She was stuck like the deer in Peter Rabbit, and she couldn't think. Her mind was blank – it couldn't register anything.

Lisabelle gave up. Grover went up ahead to save the day, he pushed the equally traumatized Thalia out of her chair – and Percy closed her eyes. She felt a few jerks, they were going vertical and down, Apollo was guiding Grover, his voice strained and tensed. Another jerk, and then they landed safely on the ground.

Percy finally opened her eyes, only to see everybody moving out of the sun chariot. She, with a gigantic effort, extracted her hands from the metal rods and things poking into her palm. The cold, biting air of the place stung her skin, which was red with dents and rashes from pressing too hard into the metal.

'How would it feel like to cut it further?', a stray thought entered her mind. She quickly dismissed it from her mind. Physical pain was cowardly. She wasn't cowardly – heck, she didn't even know what she was yet.

She removed this thought from her mind, and immediately ran to the beach in Camp, scaring the poor demigods present half to death, and jumped in the cool water, multiple fish surrounding her and clamoring, 'Lady Persephone!'

She needed some time alone.

When she resurfaced again, it was because her stomach was grumbling louder than a tractor. A feeling of warm honey was overtaking her, making her legs feel like limp boiled noodles.

There was still some time left for lunch, so she sat on the grainy white sand of the beach, ignoring the other couple beside her who was smooching relentlessly.

Staring out into the sea brought back so many unwanted memories. After her anomalous death, that was the first place she ended up. It was the first place she met Luke. It was the place she'd first met her "other" mother – the first time she watched someone die. Percy felt herself being pulled into the dark

whirlpool of the memories she'd kept shut away for so long. She would usually just keep it under lock and key, but after the previous day's happenings, it was impossible to do so – she didn't know why.

Breathing heavily, she gripped her pen, the gold engravings of its name digging into her palm, as cold as the seventh circle of hell. She still remembered it. No matter how much she tried to forget it all, she still remembered how she'd watched Calypso burst into pieces, the blood seeping through the white sand. Percy could see herself stuck on the beach, and the man trying to pull her into the boat - which was going. Finally, he sailed away, the blood reached her toes.

She could feel the stinging, slick sensation of the blood. She screamed, trying to get free of that sensation. She frantically waved her hands around, trying to remove the blood. It was spreading, it was spreading too fast. The red seemed to eat away at her. Suddenly, she felt a cold sensation on her shoulders, and she slashed her sword at whatever it was without thinking.

Her mind was still half in the vision, but a little later, the thick fogginess in her eyes cleared when a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes was screaming curses at her. She scrambled away and realized the drops of blood on her gown were because she'd stabbed the person in the stomach. With a chill, she realized that was the couple smooching right there, next to her. They'd come to help her.

She felt nauseous. She ran away from the scene, into her cabin once again. The pale iridescent marble on the floor looked reproachfully at her as if chastising her for stabbing the dude.

She curled up on the floor, pulling her knees up close as if that would throw away the guilt and shame of doing something like that to someone nice.

She couldn't handle it. She couldn't – not anymore. She was tired, exhausted from keeping these emotions in her all the time. Why couldn't someone help her? Why was she so, so utterly useless?

A little while later, a knock echoed in the pale green and blue hues of the walls of the room. She got up, only to collapse back on the bed, the seashells on the sides poking into her thighs. She heard the door burst open.

Lissie entered, holding a plate of food and a goblet. She'd missed lunch. Suddenly, she didn't feel hungry anymore.

Lissie set the food on the ground and sat down herself. Her throat felt dry and ached from holding back tears. She gulped the blue cherry coke down her throat, after sacrificing some food.

"Percy", Lissie said suddenly, resting a cold hand on her arm. It felt like fire on her sweating skin "What's wrong?"

If Percy was in her right mind, she could have held back. But right now, it was as if everything in her wanted someone to hear her silent cries.

She wrapped her arms around Lissie's waist, holding on for dear life. She was stunned, but slowly warmed up.

"I – You can't like me anymore, Lissie. I killed someone! I'm a bad person!" She stuttered out. It felt so good to tell someone all this, get this weight off her chest. It felt even better as she started spilling out all her darkest secrets, her dreams which were more accurate than most.

But something didn't feel right. Percy didn't hear the sweet nothings Lissie was whispering to her. She could only stare at the deep-purple aura emanating from her. It got darker the more Percy got quieter. It was unmistakably Dionysus' aura. Was she cursing her?

"Lissie, what are you doing?" she asked, her voice weak. "Lissie, are you cursing me right now?" She didn't respond. She only looked at her with eyes that were now dark with something unrecognizable.

The world was different now. There was only right and wrong. There was only good and evil. There was only black and white. Soundlessly, Percy got up and lay on her bed. Lissie left the room, her footsteps echoing yet again – though first what was filled with warmth and love, was now hollow and soulless. That night was Capture the Flag. Percy didn't participate. A small part of her wanted to run off again into the night. A huge part of her wanted to die again, tortured in the worst way possible. Only now, she had no one to protect. No one to be there for. This time, she'd die for herself. Or whatever was left of her.

The shouts of the battle outside resonated in the cabin, small with only three beds, covered with vines. A girl, young but fierce, sat on one of the beds. Her eyes, once filled with emotion, were now only a shell of what she had been, what she could be.

Sat still and erect, like a statue, she waited till her half-brothers washed away the final blood from their now-torn clothes, and went to sleep.

That was when she heard the sound in her voice again. It made her scalp tingle with irritation and made her want to rip all her hair out.

It also made her want to cry her lungs out.

When the voices started a week ago, she thought she was going mad. Ironic. A daughter of madness going mad. Her vulnerability allowed it to take a hold of her, to seep into her everyday life.

What just started as a thought now turned into mind control.

Her emotions and her personality were locked away in the smallest corner of her mind possible. She had no control over her body. The voice used her, her powers, her life. Hadn't she been through enough? Hadn't they all?

She still hoped it would loosen its control on her. But that evening, when it used her to curse Percy into telling her everything, into betraying her trust, her hope splintered into pieces too small and fragmented to be brought back.

That was why she, or whatever was inside her, planned to let in Kronos' army that night.

-x-

To readingmaniac88: Thank you so much for reviewing! I'm glad you liked this story :). Also, heh, I live for all your shocked reactions on the bad Annabeth part.

Also, to everyone else out there: I feel as if I'm turning everyone villainous, I have no idea what's happening anymore -

Thanks for reading! AarBeaz, out!