With Philotes passed out on the floor, Nico had no idea how long she would stay that way or how long it would be before Nyx and her other children found them. Although he had his blade back in his hand, the weight familiar and calming (albeit a little heavier than he remembered… probably the whole limbs made of mist thing), he didn't like their chances if they didn't do something to hide the body and distance themselves. The goddess before him— though she looked more like a demon and honestly, the prince of the Underworld had run into a few of them more than a time or two— watched him carefully. Where her mother's eyes were supernovas, the nameless goddesses were milky; perhaps they had once been the same as his own but time covered them with a thick layer of mucus and with each blink, tears threatened to spill (not because she was crying but because they were so moist). The tone of her skin was a corpse sat in the sun too long, both sallow and expired and yet her flesh was pock marked with gruesome welts and blemishes.
"We should hide her."
"I would tie her up for good measure." She rasped, the air practically shuddering as she spoke. It raised the hairs on the back of the demigod's neck.
"Honestly, I couldn't agree more."
"Of course, that's one of her things." She made was he assumed were supposed to be air quotes but her long fingers were gnarled so he was loosely interpreting the motion. Maybe the whole making a deal thing was a bad idea but from the size of her, and given he wasn't exactly the biggest guy for his age regardless of the mist, he decided to skip the skepticism for the time being.
"Gross," he muttered before motioning. "Grab her arms."
Rather than speaking, she nodded and honestly? Nico was thankful. Maybe it was the glint of fangs in the eerie not-quite-light, long and protruding over her bottom lip. Or the fact that where her nose should have been there was some sort of proboscis type thing. It hung, long and thin and given the end was stained a deep rust, he could assume it served one purpose and one purpose only: to drink blood. It didn't explain why her mouth was filled with teeth that would given any predator a scare but it was her 'nose' that must have been responsible for the whistling like noise she made when she spoke. If the nose was for drinking, he imagined that the teeth… well, they must be for tearing and that didn't entirely eliminate her wanting to eat (or drink) the son of Hades for dinner. Nico was glad to have his sword once more.
A little further down the hallway on one of the doors was a pink glitter and sequin bedazzled sign proclaiming PHILOTES in bold scrawling letters. Without bothering to look inside, he threw the door open and switched the lights on. The room was surprisingly bright for a mansion of near darkness. Then again, her makeup had been intricate and he supposed there was no way to do that in the dark. Like honestly, what was the point in doing makeup if no one was going to see it? And even if anyone did see you… the mansion was so dark they couldn't have seen a whole lot anyway. It just felt like a waste.
Not now, you need to focus.
But his brain was buzzing and somehow the other goddess— the demon one— still hadn't attempted to flay him alive or take a taste. She kept what Nico would have considered a respectable (or skeptical) glanced up at the emaciated goddess at he grabbed Philotes' feet and giving a groan, attempted to haul their surprisingly heavy captive off the ground. It took a bit of glancing over his shoulder back and forth but eventually they made it, him near blind in the light of their captive's room until she could be unceremoniously dropped onto her bed. It didn't go unnoticed that her sister took little care and smacked Philotes' head against the doorframe and then onto the wall when she heaved Philotes on the bed. There was a brief murmuring followed by a snore that would have given a chainsaw a run for its money, but his would-be-abductress was still out cold. Philotes' sister stood tall and rail thin with milky eyes that followed him. It made Nico want to reach for his sword but he remained still for a moment. Silent. He could go days without making a noise and yet under her bleary eyed gaze even his breathing felt loud and haggard. When he moved it was to begin searching for anything that could act as rope to tie up the goddess… Between that and a good few stabs of his stygian blade it should take her some time to come back full strength and alert the others.
"You said you had a proposition."
"I do," she answered.
Yeah… way to be super helpful. Nico could feel the eyeball building itself. He waited a few beats but she didn't bother to clarify anything for him but at least she moved away from him towards the door to keep watch. Finally, Nico found a number of scarves and giving them a good few tugs, he chose the ones that seemed the most sturdy. Fortunately, he knew all manner of knots and taking one wrist at a time, he tied her to the bed frame before moving onto her legs. He was careful to ensure they were tight. Nico slid his blade from its holster and stabbed her between the ribs, his chest going tight and his vision blurring, his body shaking. Somewhere inside of him, from the darkest corner of his mind, came the voice not unlike his own but also different.
She would have trapped you just like the jar. But the jar would have been better, wouldn't it? Because at least in the jar you were alone… and the things she would have done to you. Can you even say the things she would have done to you? You would have cried, begged her to stop, and she would have done it again and again. She would have toyed with you, a cat with a mouse, but she would not let you die. No, not for a very long time.
There was a vice around his heart and around his lungs, his heady was woozy and the room felt like it was bucking left and then right. It was wrong, he knew, but his limbs were not his own. The second time he stabbed her, he exhaled. The third time blurred into the forth and into the tenth and he wasn't sure when he began screaming but eventually the twentieth or so and Nico was shaking with exhaustion and his throat was raw. There were tears streaming down his face; he didn't know when those had started either but he couldn't turn them off straight away. When he tried to step back he practically stumbled, though there was nothing for him to trip over. Nico's legs were not his own, but eventually he found the wall and slid down against it until he was seated, staring at the goddess that had so casually touched him, so crassly made light of how she would have used him if the other goddess had not intervened. Sniffling, he lifted his free hand and wiped at his eyes and nose. His breathing was heavy as he picked up his sword (he must have dropped it when he'd sat) and wiped his blade clean of her, staining the plush carpet until the stygian iron was free of her.
The other watched, silent, still, smiling.
Nico knew he would not forget the feeling.
It took another minute or two— time you don't have… time Percy doesn't have— but eventually Nico pushed himself to his feet once more.
"How long do you think she'll be out? Before she can regenerate?" Nico hiccuped and gave the bed a wide berth.
"Not so long as she deserves." The emaciated goddess stepped closer, giving her sister a once over before leaning down, inspecting the body. He wasn't sure how he knew, but the son of Hades was sure that she inhaled her scent. "She's a monster, you know. I don't pretend to be better, but that's just it, isn't it? False pretenses… you wouldn't have been the first, you know. Nor the youngest. And you wouldn't have been the last. Being confined to Tartarus has twisted her." There was no judgement in the goddesses' voice, each rasp factual, but it was laced with just a hint of contempt. When satisfied with Nico's handiwork, her proboscis slipped into one of the wounds, just between her ribs. From the sucking nose, Nico was sure that she took a long sip, eyes closed and lips curled up in delight. He should have felt bad but he only felt cold. "Violence takes so much sweeter when it's personal. Not as delicious as if she were human or demigod, you see, but I can hardly afford to be choosey." The way her ribs were poking out, Nico was positive it was true.
When she was finished, the goddess stood and the tattered rags she called clothes were so threadbare and torn that Nico had to avert his eyes to basically anywhere else in the room. Not only was basic hygiene apparently not her thing— and, hey, who was he to judge? because he had definitely been homeless for months at a time and who knew better than him how hard it was to find showers (before he'd gotten better at shadow traveling, anyway)— but neither was finding articles of clothing that did not expose her practically bare breasts. It was way more than he wanted to see and they were more or less eye level. If Nico wasn't careful he was going to get a face full and that was honestly a sight that would scar him for the rest of his life, no matter how long.
"That will keep her a little longer."
Nico was about to ask what she meant but the goddess reached up and in a motion that looked like she wasn't even trying, ripped her sister's jaw from it's hinges and dropped it onto her chest, tongue flapping about. Thankfully he hadn't eaten properly since before the whole jar incident otherwise he was sure the contents of his stomach would have joined the dark ichor staining her rug. He wasn't squeamish, but he also hadn't prepared himself for that.
"There is no need to feel guilty. You know what she would have done to you, at least you can guess. I can promise you it would have been much worse."
That voice… it was his, but it was inspired by her. Nico was positive.
"You're a goddess of violent death," he surmised, wiping at his eyes one final time. "I thought there were more of you." They had had their own mythomagic card and, if he remembered correctly, they would scour the field to pick off the injured and the wounded for the remaining turns, sucking the life from a player's opponents until their health was depleted.
"I can be one… or I can be many. It has been some time since I have been many." When she turned once more he had to quickly avert his eyes. Nico scrambled to Philotes closet and without much prejudice, found a dress and shoved it at the other goddess.
"However many of you there are… you need to put this on. How are you not freezing?" Nico kept his gaze away, arm shoved in her general direction. He felt a tug on the hanger and after a moment turned to find the death goddess wearing a bright pink polka dotted sundress. It was probably four sized too big for her and given the state of her it didn't do any favors but Nico heaved a sigh of relief.
"My form… it distracts you?"
"I was really hoping to go the rest of my life without seeing," he waved his hand vaguely in her direction clearly indicating her form or something like it, "in the flesh."
For a moment he thought she was choking but the way her eyes were closed made laugh lines. "Yes, I understand. Anyway, we must hurry. Your friend will not have long. Mother fancies herself a cook ever since she discovered Martha Stewart." Nico didn't need to hear any more to know they needed to move before the other demigod found himself baked into some overcooked pie.
Nico switched off the light switch to the room and closed the door behind them.
"Why are you helping me?" He can't help but whisper to the goddess as they slink along the hallway toward the staircase. It winds down for what feels like forever, he can sense the open space when he reaches with his senses. Feel the stone, the earth, feels where there is none. One hand is on his stygian blade as he follows the goddess down the stone steps further into the recesses of the mansion.
"Because my family are fools. Gaea would kill most of you, enslave the rest. She would do the same with humanity… and what am I meant to eat? Surely there will be much to feast on at the beginning but when the stock runs low I'll be worse than I am now… And what of Thanatos? Who is he meant to reap once you are all dead? Eris might inspire strife amongst the gods but when Tartarus rises following Gaea's triumph he will cull us. They will start over, without humans this time. No, the Olympians and their children will be their slaves. There will not be a place for many of us. They are too short sighted to see this."
"So you're saying you want to defect? Like… join the Olympians? Be on our side?"
"Humanity has murdered one another violently since it blinked into existence. I am on the side of humanity… the side that will continue to fill my belly until Ker is Keres once more. I will help you and your friend escape, and in exchange, I ride with you through the Doors of Death. From there you do as you please, and I do as I wish. "
There were a few other issues to iron out, but they had the rest of the never ending descent to work it out and in the end, they did. Nico agreed to her terms and she to his. He tried not to think about what the deals made would cost him. No, it was better to focus on what they would grant him: Percy Jackson safe once more.
Echoing up the staircase were voices, and the growing warmth of dancing light; Nico assumed it was a fire. Nico sniffed a few times… was that rosemary?
"Yes… yes, throw in some more spices. That's right. Bring it to a boil now."
"I know there are potatoes somewhere around here. Can't have a stew without potatoes!"
"Don't forget the onions."
"Is that… what is that? Garlic! You know I'm allergic! Get that away from me." Another voice shrieked. "Put it down! Get away from me!"
Shortly after that another shriek filled their ears but this one tore through his heart and froze the blood in his veins. Nico would know that sound anywhere. Percy.
"Looks like they've started dinner."