Daughter of Madness
AN: Thank you to Madeline2206 for the review it honeslty means a lot and in this chapter i think I will be introducing a new OC and we will see her in camp and in action.
Thank you Fang and Altair, It's always great to see a supernatural fan.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE PLOT I ONLY OWN MY OC OPHELIA ANDERSON AND ACHILLES RADFORD
Chapter 5:
"Silence Annabeth," said the man. "She's stil concious. Bring them inside"
I had weird dreams full of crazy parties and leonardo dicaprio. He wanted to marry me and the crazy lady wouldnt let him.
Rude.
I must've woken up several times, but what I heard and saw made no sense, so I just passed out again. I remember lying in a soft bed, being spoon-fed something that tasted like buttered popcorn, only it was pudding. The boy with golden blonde hair and hazel eyes smirking down at me arrogantly.
When he saw my eyes open, he asked, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"
I managed to croak, "What?"
She looked around, as if afraid someone would over-hear. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!" "C'mon chick you must know something"
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, "I don't..."
Somebody knocked on the door, and the boy quickly filled my mouth with pudding.
The next time I woke up, the boy was gone.
A husky blond dude, like a surfer, stood in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over me. He had blue eyes- at least a dozen of them-on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands. It was pretty cool in all fairness.
When I finally came around for good, there was nothing weird about my surroundings, except that they were nicer than I was used to. I was sitting in a deck chair on a huge porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the distance. The breeze smelled like strawberries. There was a blanket over my legs, a pillow behind my neck. All that was great, but my mouth felt like a scorpion had been using it for a nest. My tongue was dry and nasty and every one of my teeth hurt.
On the table next to me was a tall drink. It looked like iced apple juice, with a green straw and a paper parasol stuck through a maraschino cherry.
My hand was so weak I almost dropped the glass once I got my fingers around it.
"Careful," a familiar voice said.
Grover was leaning against the porch railing, looking like he hadn't slept in a week. Under one arm, he cradled a two shoe boxes. He was wearing blue jeans, Converse hi-tops and a bright orange T-shirt that said CAMP HALF-BLOOD. Just plain old Grover, Not the hybrid.
So maybe I'd had a nightmare. Maybe me and Percy are okay and silly didnt get killed by the bull-man, maybe i've finally gone crazy and im now hullucinating.
"You saved my life," Grover said. "I... well, the least I could do ... I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this."
Reverently, he placed the shoe box in my lap.
Inside was a black-and-white bull's horn, the base jagged from being broken off, the tip splattered with dried blood. It hadn't been a nightmare.
"The Minotaur," I said.
"Urn, Ophelia, it isn't a good idea-"
"That's what they call him in the Greek myths, isn't it?" I demanded. "The Minotaur. Half man, half bull."
Grover shifted uncomfortably. "You've been out for two days. How much do you remember?"
"Sally. Is she really ..."
He looked down.
"Crap Percy!" "Where is he G man?" i asked in a rush.
"Oh he's gone," Grover sniffled. "Not like that. He's already meeting Chiron." he said in a reassuring voice.
Yeah Greek Mythology. I'm reassured.
He moaned, stomping his foot so hard it came off. I mean, the Converse hi-top came off. The inside was filled with Styrofoam, except for a hoof-shaped hole.
"Oh, Styx!" he mumbled.
Thunder rolled across the clear sky.
As he struggled to get his hoof back in the fake foot, I thought, Well, that settles it.
Grover was a satyr. I was ready to bet that if I shaved his curly brown hair, I'd find tiny horns on his head. But I was too miserable to care that satyrs existed, or even minotaurs. That meant that the battle did happen yesterday. And Sally is gone.
Grover was still sniffling. The poor kid-poor goat, satyr, whatever-looked as if he expected to be hit.
I said, "It wasn't your fault."
"Yes, it was. I was supposed to protect you."
"Did my Grandmother ask you to protect me?"
"No. But that's my job. I'm a keeper. At least... I was."
"But why ..." I suddenly felt dizzy, my vision swim-ming.
"Don't strain yourself," Grover said. "Here." He helped me hold my glass and put the straw to my lips.
I recoiled at the taste, because I was expecting apple juice. It wasn't that at all. It was grape juice, it was heaven. Before I knew it, I'd drained the glass. That has to be one of the most nicest things i've exerienced in my life.
"Was it good?" Grover asked.
I nodded.
"What did it taste like?" He sounded so wistful, I felt guilty.
"Sorry," I said. "I should've let you taste."
His eyes got wide. "No! That's not what I meant. I just... wondered."
"Grapes," I said. "Pure grape juice." i sighed in awe.
He sighed. "And how do you feel?"
"Like I could throw Nancy Bobofit a hundred yards."
"That's good," he said. "That's good. I don't think you could risk drinking any more of that stuff"
"What do you mean?"
He took the empty glass from me gingerly, as if it were dynamite, and set it back on the table. "Come on. Chiron and Mr. D are waiting."
The porch wrapped all the way around the farmhouse.
My legs felt wobbly, trying to walk that far. Grover offered to carry the Minotaur horn, but I held on to it. I'd paid for that souvenir the hard way. I wasn't going to let it go.
As we came around the opposite end of the house, I caught my breath.
We must've been on the north shore of Long Island, because on this side of the house, the valley marched all the way up to the water, which glittered about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, I simply couldn't process everything I was seeing. The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture-an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena-except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit.
A dozen high school-age kids and satyrs played volleyball. Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded trail, and, unless I was hallucinating, some of their horses had wings.
This is the most cheesiest thing i've seen. It looks to good to be true.
Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. The blond-haired girl who I saw the day i came in was leaning on the porch rail next to them.
The man facing me was small, but porky. He had a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He looked like those paintings of baby angels- what do you call them, hubbubs? No, cherubs. That's it. He looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He wore a tigerpattern Hawaiian shirt, and he would've fit right in at one of Gabe's poker parties, except I got the feeling this guy could've out-gambled even my step-father. This guy looked entertaining.
"That's Mr. D," Grover murmured to me. "He's the camp director. Be polite. The girl, that's Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron... ."
He pointed at the guy whose back was to me.
First, I realized he was sitting in the wheelchair. Then I recognized the tweed jacket, the thinning brown hair, the scraggly beard.
"Mr. Brunner!" I cried.
The Latin teacher turned and smiled at me. His eyes had that mischievous glint they sometimes got in class when he pulled a pop quiz and made all the multiple choice answers B.
"Ah, good, Ophelia," he said. "Now we have four for pinochle."
He offered me a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looked at me in suprise and almost anger. He stood up and pushed the table back, the atmosphere in the room was tense i could see vines slowly moving and i didnt dare to look into his violet eyes. My eyes.
"Who are you girl?" he asked in a whisper of a voice.
"Im Ophelia Anderson, you are?" I asked him in a done of indifference.
"Ophelia, be polite" Chiron said to me in a scolding tone of voice,
"Chiron enough". Mr D said the power in the room itensifying, he looked mad, but not insane. This man held a lot of power i could sense it. This is something i couldnt win.
"Mr D" Chiron said cautiosly. "Dionysus, are you okay?" Chiron said in worry, not beleiving that this god, who didnt care. Was showing so much anger in his eyes at Ophelia. She may be sarcasitc, but he knew deep down she is one of the most powerful demi-gods he has seen and that isnt including Percy.
" Who is your mother child?" he asked in a calm but intimidating voice.
Chiron looked on in intrest suddenly realising the conclusion dionysus has come to, the prophecy foretold this, the next great prophecy is starting. He looked down at Ophelia with pain his eyes, this child will go through so much all to soon.
"Elizabeth Anderson" I said with a no nonsense ton
Dionysus suddenly whipped his head towards me with a new light in his eyes, purple flames danced merrily across his face as thoguhts came to his head, but then he looked down at me gravely " Where is your mother Ophelia?"
" She died a few years back" i replied in a dead voice no emotion on my face. " Cancer is a bitch" i spoke in a kowing tone.
" Language" He scolded me, he looked as if he has gained a few years.
"Did she mention your father at all?" He asked in a hopeful yet broken voice.
"No, only my grandmother has spoken about that deadbeat God" i said in a sarcastic voice.
"Ophelia enough" He spoke with a no joking around voice.
"Who the hell are you to speak to me like that?" I replied heatidly. " My Dad?" i snarked.
He looked down at me with a big smirk on his face. a plan suddenly coming to his head.
"Why yes child." "I am your father" He spoke in a smug tone.
"And for the little act you put on by there, your grounded" He said in a triumphent tone
WHAT THE HELL?
AN: I APOLOGISE FOR THE SHORT CHAPTER BUT IF I'D WRITTEN MORE IT WOULDNT OF SUITTED THE WAY I THOUGHT OUT THE STORY PLAN.
But Dionysus though? Who saw this coming? and we are introduced to Ophelia's new love intrest although you wont see that for a few stories to come and i plan to do all Percy Jackson books! And i will be updating daily if i can.
Back to dionysus, i can picture him being super over protective of his first born child and with all the boys taking intrest in her soon, him, Percy and Achilles will not be having fun.
Fun fact: Achilles means warrior, can you guess his parent?
I Picture Achilles looking like Dylan Sprouse FYI