Hey, fellow fanpeople! Welcome to chapter five of Circe's Revenge!
Wow, that didn't sound like a game show at all.
Here is your very long, exclusive Annabeth chapter! And when I say exclusive, I mean it's the only one in the story. I don't know why I didn't write more from Annabeth's POV or anything from Irida's. I've only written a little of Percy's POV(you'll see why later), and any other POVs seemed unnecessary, as, you know, they're guinea pigs. Though I actually have no idea why I didn't write anything from Irida's POV. All the chapters' POVs had a specific purpose, like Will discovering Percy, Malcolm and Will's scene, etc.
I'm pretty sure this one is, by far(besides the last chapter or two), the longest chapter. Enjoy!
—Alex
(Annabeth's POV)
I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout. I wanted to cry. But I couldn't. Definitely not now, in this state, and maybe not ever again.
When I heard Will this morning, and heard Percy was with him, I wanted to cry with relief. Then I didn't see Percy with him, not until Will brought him out of his bag.
I'm not proud to say this. I panicked. But so did he. We were there, comforting each other silently, until Will put us back in his bag.
Percy said some unpleasant things about Will's satchel, and then I realized it: I understood him, even though we were both guinea pigs.
In the bag, it felt like it took forever, so me and Percy traded stories. He told me about his dream, and how Will found him, and I wanted to hug him.
Percy, I nudged him with my head in the bag, I'm sorry, Seaweed Brain, I said, in a futile attempt at a joke.
He shrugged. It's okay, Wise Girl, he said, at least I've got no cabin mates. What'd they say to you?
I gulped, but told him all about my crazy experience.
(3rd person for Annabeth's "flashback")
Annabeth was laying on her bed, reading an architecture book, when the pain started. It was like being stabbed by Ethan Nakamura again, but multiple times, all over her gut and lower back. She grunted in pain, and closed her eyes.
"You all right, Annabeth?" Her half-brother, Malcolm, asked.
She opened her eyes and replied through gritted teeth: "Yeah, I'm good. I'm just feeling a bit stomach sick right now." That's an understatement, she thought as she sat up. "I'm going to the infirmary to see an Apollo kid." She saw the light was beginning to fade, although it was probably an hour before sunset. "Don't wait up if I'm not back before campfire." She added.
"All right, Annabeth." Malcolm said.
Annabeth hobbled out of the cabin, almost doubled over in pain.
As soon as she left her cabin, the pain intensified, feeling like she consumed a jar of Greek Fire. Annabeth collapsed, and she crawled into a little niche in the side of her cabin, and pulled the shutter closed most of the way, showing some of the dying sunlight. She curled up in the niche, crying silently because of the pain, facing away from the setting sun. Now, her whole body felt like it was burning and being crushed. It felt like little knives were trying to work their way out of her fingers and toes, the sharp point first. Her mouth felt like her teeth were trying to run away from her. Her body felt like it would be crushed until it was the size of a marble. Finally, she fell unconscious because of the severe pain, not sure if she'd wake up again.
When she woke up, Annabeth wondered if she was dead. Her head and body felt like someone beat it with a hammer. Wait. Where was she? She sensed massive cave-like walls around her, and it all came back to her. The pain. The niche. The agony. But she didn't remember the niche she crawled into being this big, this huge. She tried to sit up, but couldn't. She rolled over like a dog, and nearly screamed at what she saw. The shutter shutting off her little niche from the world wasn't so little anymore, it was easily two, three times the size of her. The opening was less than twice her height tall, and there were feet, humongous feet, traveling by, hurting her ears with the noise they made, presumably their voices.
Annabeth's breaths started coming quicker, her heart pounding faster than a gazelle on the run, faster than any human heart should've—or could've—gone. Annabeth's first instinct was to run to the far corner and wait until all those giant feet left. Why? Annabeth thought. Why do I want to hide? I should just run out there and...and...no, I should stay here. It's safe. Since when is this cave safer than camp? She thought furiously. Since when am I not safe at camp? Suddenly, a conch horn blew thunderously, driving her to the far corner. The she realized what was happening. Nothing had changed around her, she had changed. The giant feet were the campers going to the sing-along. But were they big, or was she tiny?
Finally, the last of the feet left the side of the Athena cabin, and Annabeth made her move. The only way she could figure this out was to make it to her cabin without being seen.
But when she tried to stand up and walk out, she couldn't sit up. Annabeth panicked. She couldn't even get on her knees. Finally, she got on all fours and tried to stand on her feet. Her upper body swung up...and she did it! She was standing! She tried to move one of her feet forward, and fell, face first.
Annabeth yelled furiously, not caring she would alert the other campers. But instead of a yell, a agitated squeak echoed across the cave. Since when did I squeak? She paled. Annabeth looked down. Instead of her lying on her hands and stomach, she was on all fours, all hairy, clawed, fours. She squealed again, this time in pure terror. Timidly, she put one claw in front of another, slowly making her way to her cabin. Thankfully, one of her irresponsible siblings had left the door open just a crack, barely wide enough for her little body to fit through, and the lights on.
Holy Hera, Annabeth thought as she walked into her cabin. Sure, everything was gigantic for her now, but in her cabin, her home, things looked so different. Everything was multiple times larger than she was tall. She located the mirror on the opposite side of the room, and scrambled over quickly.
When Annabeth looked in the mirror, she squealed, and her stomach dropped to Tartarus. Standing in front of the mirror wasn't a tiny human, or a rabbit, or cat, or anything that she thought she could've possibly turned into. She'd almost prefer that. Instead, a small, short-haired guinea pig sat where Annabeth should have been. The guinea pig had short, monotone blonde fur and stormy grey eyes.
Annabeth spent the next five minutes flopped on the floor in front of the mirror, trying to figure out what to do. It was already dark out, so she couldn't go to Percy or Chiron or the Apollo kids like she told Malcolm she would, not without getting eaten, stepped on, or lost.
Suddenly, Annabeth heard loud voices and footsteps coming in the direction of her cabin. It was the campers, coming back from the campfire. She squeaked, almost inaudibly, and ran under her bed.
The door burst open with all of her siblings, the brand-new camper, Louis, first. "Man, that was lame!" Louis exclaimed.
"Louis…." Malcolm warned him, not for the first time that day. "Be careful about what you yell here." Louis was a big kid, about fifteen years old, with pale skin, and their mother's hair and eyes. Malcolm put a hand on his arm to emphasize his point.
"Hey!" He whirled around, grabbing Malcolm's arm. "Don't touch me!" He growled. Malcolm easily shook his hand out of Louis' grasp.
"Just get ready for bed, Louis," Malcolm sighed.
"And why should I take orders from you?" He nearly shouted. Annabeth flinched visibly, the noise was hurting her, badly.
"Because, I'm Annabeth's second-in-command, when she's not here, I'm in charge." Annabeth could see all of her other Athena cabin mates crowded behind Malcolm.
"Then why isn't Annie Bell here now?" He gloated. Annabeth gritted her guinea pig teeth. "Where is she, off with her boyfriend again?" Malcolm snapped. He shoved him against the cabin wall, his arm across Louis' chest. The other campers crowded behind Malcolm.
"No, Louis," Malcolm said, purposefully mangling his name, "she is not here right now, but she is cabin counselor, and we respect our counselors, no matter what."
"Then I want to challenge her for head counselor!"
Malcolm laughed sarcastically. "I'd like to see you try. But alas, you see, Louis, like most civilized camps, we have these things called rules. Have you ever heard of them?" Louis' face turned an angry shade of red, but was smart enough to realize the smaller boy was stronger than him, in this scenario. "Rule number one: we respect the counselors. Two: you listen to the counselors. Three: the cabins need to be clean for inspection every night. Four: the oldest or most senior camper is automatically counselor. But, if a younger camper has completed more quests than the current counselor, he or she can challenge the counselor to a duel. The counselor can choose to step down, or fight. And Annabeth has completed over a half a dozen quests, nearly dying each time. You're not eligible to challenge her, not for a long time, if you even get one quest." Malcolm took his arm off the opposing boy's chest and shoved him towards his bunk. "Now go clean your bed." No one cheered. No one laughed. Malcolm wasn't making the big boy a laughingstock, but he was putting him in his place.
Annabeth's eyes watered. For a chunk of her life, no one would do that for her. Now, she had two families, and they'd protect her.
Annabeth watched as her siblings started to clean the cabin. "Should I clean Annabeth's, Malcolm?" Someone called. She was surprised to realize it was Louis.
Malcolm laughed. "Nah, Louis, that's okay. That's actually rule five: do not mess with Annabeth's stuff if you don't like visiting the infirmary." The cabin laughed, including Louis. "But I'll just check the surrounding area, since it's my bunk, too." Annabeth paled. He was going to check her hiding spot. She almost scooted deeper into the bed, then stopped. If I can't trust my right hand man, my brother, then I can't trust anyone, she thought. She stayed there, stood her ground.
Annabeth heard a loud THUMP!, her brother's knee hitting the ground. She started shaking uncontrollably. Her brother's humongous face came into view. She saw Malcolm's face, still grinning, his smile melting, like an ice cream cone in an oven, as he registered the guinea pig under the bed, and Annabeth's strange absence from that night. She saw him register the terrified guinea pig under the bed, and he sat up so quickly he banged his head on the bed frame.
"You alright, Malcolm?" Louis called.
Malcolm bent back down and looked at me. "Yeah, yeah, I'm all good, it's nothing." He rambled. I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. "It's lights out. Get some sleep, everyone." He surreptitiously slid a loose shirt under the bed.
I curled up on the mound of shirt, and fell asleep right as the lights flickered out.
(Back to Annabeth's POV)
Holy Hera, Percy squeaked, Annabeth, I—I don't know what to say. So, I..I'm sorry, I guess.
I huddled back up with him. It's okay, Percy. I squeaked. I'm sorry we had to go through this at all. Do you want to tell anyone else, besides Will and Malcolm?
He shrunk down a bit further. Annabeth, I just don't think I can. Just...the embarrassment, the 'oh look the kid who's supposed to save Olympus multiple times is a guinea pig!' that kinda stuff.
Okay. I squeaked. It's only a need-to-know kinda thing.
We were so lost in thought, we never noticed reentering Percy's cabin, nor the giant hands that reached down and grabbed us by our midsections. Percy and I squeaked.
"What do you say, guys?" Will's voice said, as if we knew what he was talking about. "Can I tell her?" Percy shrunk into the bed. His worst fear was threatening to come true. He stared at me, and I returned it. I didn't know who Will was talking about, but Will needed us to trust someone.
Percy sighed. I nodded. Will grabbed us by the scruffs of our necks, and placed us back in the bag.
Will called someone, Irida, maybe, and I sighed. Irida was an Iris camper whose life Will saved in the war two years ago. Anyone could tell the girl had a crush on Will, though he obviously didn't return it. I heard footsteps and muffled voices. Shrill voices. Will's hand grabbed us again. In front of us was indeed Irida, and she looked on the verge of a mental breakdown. Then she laughed softly, rubbing her temples.
I burned with rage so badly, I quaked. I was a guinea pig, along with Percy, and this incompetent girl had the nerve to laugh at it. I could feel Will's body go taut with anger. I felt Will's hand pet me, trying to calm me down, but he snapped, too. "Look, Irida, you think this is hard? Think about them. They've been through a lot, more than you could even dream of. Four wars, over half a dozen life-threatening quests, numerous battles, freaking Tartarus, and now this. So, if you think it's funny, then you might as well leave now. But remember, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll know it was you." I stopped quaking, and moved closer into Will. Even with all of this, he still tried to protect his friends.
Irida paled. She said she was sorry, but she was staying with us till the very end.
2,243 words. Go, me!
How'd y'all like this one? Seems we've learned a little bit more about Irida...*grins evilly*
Also, a word about Louis: in my head, his name is pronounced "Louie", so when Malcolm "mangled his name" he said "Louis", so...well, it's not like we'll see him again, not in this book, but I felt like clarifying that in case you were lost.
Also, I put in that little piece of Annabeth "fluff", as they call it, because I realized it was getting very dramatic. Actually, I just wanted to see if I could make my readers sad. Or cry.
Did I succeed?
Also, most of the writing, rereading, and editing is done late at night when I'm supposed to be asleep, or early in the morning, because my schedule is weird, and those are really the only times I can write. So, I'm sorry and please excuse me for any errors. I'm trying to reread them here, as well, but some things may slip through the cracks.
See ya next time on Circe's Revenge! *bows*
—Alex