Warning: Contains mentions of depression, self-harm, domestic emotional and verbal abuse, murder.

Author's note: When I say mentions, I mean mentions. Some of the topics I just stated in the warnings are way too complex and controversial for me to even know how to write about them.

Maybe at some point one or two of the topics will be just a bit more than mentions, but in chapters like that I would warn you that there would be more than just mentions of sensitive topics.

I may need to add more warnings when it seems necessary or I have decided to add another element to the story that requires a warning.

- WARNING - THIS NEXT WARNING CONTAINS A SPOILER -

Spoiling warning: Contains LGBTQ+ characters. (If you have a problem with that, I advise you to leave, before all of Nico's self-proclaimed spouses, parents, and siblings come after you [AKA me].)

All's Fair in Love and War

Pandemonium King

Chapter Six: Half-Blood Hill

Charlie stepped off the bus and looked up at the sky. The sun blazed overhead, and Charlie could already feel the sweat on the back of her neck start to bleed out of her skin and soak into her sweater. Charlie's gaze wandered downwards, and fixed on the back of the red haired girl's head.

The girl had wasted no time, as soon as she had gotten off of the stuffy bus, she started walking right up the hill. Charlie could see the beginnings of a gravelly path start to form somewhere higher up on the elevated sector of land.

Charlie could already see the redhead start to disappear behind the lone trees, sparse bushes, and clusters of reedy plants that when combined, created a pretty solid scheme of camouflage and dense bunches of green to hide behind.

When she realized this, Charlie made a split second decision to follow the girl.

As slowly and as silently as she could, Charlie stole after the girl. She kept a safe distance away from her, but even when Charlie accidentally made a loud noise that was bound to draw the redhead's attention, she still did not turn around or even falter.

Charlie was good at sneaking around quietly, she even prided herself in it (sort of, it is kind of a suspicious talent), but she's never done it in such natural settings. Charlie had made at least three loud noises - that were definitely within the redhead's earshot (she did not once react to any of them) - before she got the gist of it and knew how to avoid it.

It was almost too late when Charlie saw the huge Pine tree. The path had snaked around a bush and disappeared, as in, the path itself, not the view of the path. The border between normal grass and the path's gravel blurred, and the path stopped there.

Charlie stopped and crouched behind the bush. Steadily, she stuck her head over the bush and peered in all directions before she spotted the redhead sit down and lean against the Pine, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes.

Seeing as the redhead wasn't doing anything particularly noteworthy at that moment, Charlie took a minute to herself to carefully look everywhere for a second time, which was a good idea, because in that moment she noticed a few things.

Firstly, a glint of gold had immediately caught Charlie's eye. Upon closer inspection, Charlie had realized it was a fleece. An actual golden fleece, hanging from the branches of the Pine tree. Charlie wondered why anyone would paint a fleece golden and then hang it on a tree.

Secondly, around the Pine tree was a large patch of dirt. There was a fine line between the grass and the bare, dusty, almost hard looking earth that surrounded the tree. Charlie didn't know what had caused the patch, but she could only guess that an extremely heavy object usually dwells around the tree, and was preventing any flora from growing. Possibly an animal, Charlie thought to herself, but then she shook off that thought. No animal could possibly be that big.

Thirdly, they were right at the crest of the hill, but from the angle in which Charlie was looking around, she could not see the slightest bit of what might be in the valley.

Fourthly, as they abruptly stopped, the sounds of their movement stopped as well. No more shuffling, or shoes scuffing against gravel, or the occasional grunt of effort on the redheaded girl's end as she made her way up the somewhat steep hill. (Charlie had tried as best she could to be as silent as she possibly could, she wasn't going to come out and grunt loudly.)

And now, in the silence, Charlie could faintly hear the most peculiar variety of sounds coming from the valley. Children shrieking as they were undoubtedly playing, screaming and yelling and fighting, laughs and giggles. The sounds of metal clanging, sounds of running, sounds of music.

Charlie badly wanted to know what was in the valley, and it occurred to her that maybe that was not a good thing. She didn't know what was down there. For all she knew, it could be the capital of a satanic cult.

She was starting to think that maybe getting onto that bus, getting off at that stop, and following that girl had all been very bad ideas.

Charlie's heart raced as she started waddling backwards, still in a crouching position, trying to get away from the redheaded girl that she had so recklessly decided to follow.

"I know you're still here. You didn't get very far yet, did you?" the redheaded girl suddenly spoke. Charlie later scolded herself this, but in fact, the first thing she noticed was the girl's voice.

Charlie could always appreciate a nice singing voice, but for some reason, she could even more so appreciate a pleasant speaking voice. She usually thought to herself that if she were to be forced to listen to a sound instead of enjoying a nice silence, the sound should at least be pleasant. Charlie was weird that way.

In case you were wondering, the redhead had a lovely voice. Images of the redhead's face swam in Charlie's mind as she replayed the redhead's words in her head. Her cheeks felt somewhat warm as she all but slapped herself in the temple for thinking about something so irrelevant at such an inappropriate time.

Charlie had just realized that she had gone completely still, not daring to move a muscle, when the girl spoke again. "You don't have to run. Don't worry; we're not a satanic cult. I know that's what you were thinking."

Charlie smirked to herself. She would have asked if- "No. You are the only one who has ever thought that."

Charlie wondered if- "No, I can't read minds."

Never mind.

"You really shouldn't go."

Well, that settled it. Charlie wasn't going to take orders from a stranger. She was about to continue scurrying off (still in a crouching position, though) when the redhead finally got her utmost attention.

"This is the place that the address is referring to. Percy is here. Percy Jackson."

Charlie immediately stood up. Her back still faced the redhead, but it was progress.

"Oh, now I've got your attention, do I? Well, what if I told you that the girl is here, too?"

Almost against her own will, Charlie blurted out, "Robin Keller." She gritted her teeth and growled almost inaudibly under her breath. Frankly, she was mad at herself for having remembered Robin's name but not anyone else on the face of the earth's name.

"You want to see her, don't you?" Charlie saw an image of the redhead casually inspecting her nails as she nonchalantly gave Charlie a life-death dilemma to solve as she sat against the tree behind her in her mind.

Charlie turned around to face the other girl, but she had pulled her large hood over her head and looked at the ground, hoping her face was well hidden by the fabric of her sweater. "Maybe."

"Then come over here, Charlie." Before Charlie could express her surprise at the redhead's unexpected awareness of her pseudonym, she continued talking. "Yes, yes. I know your pseudonym."

Charlie felt her throat constrict, she choked on her own words as she barely managed to get out a quiet and desperate "How?"

The fiery-haired girl smiled playfully, her eyes twinkled. Ignoring Charlie's question, she asked, "Why don't you use your real name?"

She hesitated before answering. "Charlie is a name my mother gave me." Charlie paused. She hesitated, not sure if passing on such information was worth it. She eventually decided it was. "A nickname. She said it was my father's name. Well, that's what she called him. His real name was Charles."

Charlie shook her head and scoffed. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this. Why should I trust you? I don't even know your name."

The redhead was still smiling in such a genuine manner that Charlie had almost forgotten what such sincere kindness looked like, but she now remembered.

The redhead stood up. She brushed herself off and looked up at Charlie's obscured face. She took one step, then another, and stopped in front of Charlie.

"Well, I don't know yours, either."

Charlie flinched away from the redhead, who was standing too close for Charlie's comfort. She started fidgeting with her own fingers, pulling on them so hard that they turned white, as if they were about to be ripped off.

Charlie took a step back, not taking her eyes off the ground in front of her, hoping the redhead would not catch a glimpse of her face.

"My name is Rachel Elizabeth Dare," the fiery-haired girl, Rachel, said.

Extremely uncomfortable and at a loss for words, the only thing Charlie could muster was, "Dare? Like Dare Enterprises?"

Charlie wasn't exactly looking, but she could tell that Rachel was giving her a wry smile. "Exactly like Dare Enterprises." She then frowned. "I can tell that you despise my dad's company. Well, so do I. He even makes me go to a girls' boarding academy. Now, honestly, isn't that such a 'rich dad' cliché thing to do?"

Charlie managed a chuckle. "Nice to meet you, Rachel Elizabeth Dare."

Rachel grinned. "Ditto." Rachel's grin evaporated, and she sighed. "You still don't trust me, do you?"

Charlie, too, let her smile, as small as it was, fall away. "Not in the slightest."

Rachel crossed her arms. "Would you believe me if I told you what those noises are? If you got to see?"

Charlie mimicked Rachel's body language and also crossed her arms. "That depends. You know it depends."

"Because those noises could be the sound of child labor? Torture? Murder? Trafficking? I mean, what else could the sounds of laughing children possibly mean?"

Charlie eyed Rachel from under her hood, amused. "I like your sense of humor. Dark. Just like mine. Very entertaining. But I'll have you know, that one time there was this guy who dressed up in a Barney costume, kidnapped children, and forced them to be happy. If he saw a child that wasn't smiling…" Charlie paused for a dramatic effect, "he killed them. So really this could also be a situation like that."

"Ha, well, I'm not the one with the dark humor. I know that you are, and that's why I'm being kind of dark. I think I'm going to vomit, actually. That's horrifying."

Charlie gritted her teeth and grimaced. No one ever appreciated her dark humor; they always thought it was so disgusting. Charlie hated it. "Oh."

"I have a friend, his name is Nico. You two will get along great."

Charlie narrowed her eyes. "Will? What do you mean, will? Who says I'm going to meet him?"

Rachel smiled again. "I do. Now, if you want to know what those noises are, you'll have to take a look at the valley."

"It's just a strawberry farm. There's nothing there."

"Except," Rachel raised a finger and hummed, "apparently, a cult of purple dinosaurs that force children to be happy at all times."

Charlie grunted and pushed past Rachel. She stood at the crest and looked down at the valley.

There was nothing there but lots of strawberry bushes.

Without Charlie having to say anything, Rachel told Charlie, "Look again."

Charlie continued looking down at the valley. Then, as if her eyes were getting used to a darkness, suddenly being able to make out various things, like a chair, or a desk, you know, things you see in a bedroom, Charlie could all of a sudden see a camp spread out beneath her.

Camp Half-Blood.

Hello, readers!

I'm so sorry for missing last Thursday's update, I got depressed again. Didn't feel like getting out of bed. Missed weeks of school. It's a whole cycle.

Anyway, I apologize again for missing Thursday, I really am sorry.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

Oh, by the way, the bit about Barney forcing children to be happy is real, but it was a long time ago. Apparently, there was this guy who dressed up as a green and purple dinosaur and abducted children and forced them to be happy, and if he saw them make any facial expression that wasn't a smile, he would kill them. Allegedly, that's where the inspiration for the real Barney show came from, because, you know, it hadn't existed yet before that. Except that Barney isn't a psychotic serial killer.

The whole thing kind of reminds me of the song Mad Hatter by Melanie Martinez a little. I recommend her songs if you like dark, deep, baby themed stuff and lots of swearing and knives in the music videos.

Again, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope you'll be back for the next one.

Bye!

- Pandemonium King