A/N Hello two people who read this. (Or it might only be one now, idk, I don't update as much as I should.) It's been eight months since I last updated. Hah. I'm a bitch.
Anyway. Yup.
...
Something smelled strange.
Not good strange. Bad strange. Very very bad strange.
It was hard to place, but she knew she'd smelled it before. Somehow it brought back memories of when she'd gone on holiday for a week with her family. When they came back home, she'd found her pet hamster dead inside its cage. She'd forgotten to leave out food and water.
The smell had been terrible, but back then she hadn't thought much of it, as she'd been too busy crying. But now she could smell that very same thing.
The stench of death.
Leith Pierce sat bolt upright. Or tried to, quickly realising that she was chained against the wall. Her hands were shackled above her, and she was left to hang from the chains, her sneakers about two feet off the ground.
"H- Hello? Is anyone there?"
The only answer was silence. Silence and darkness.
"Hello?" she cried, rattling the chains against the wall in a moment of desperation. But the silence that came after seemed even louder by contrast.
Leith's breath grew shallow. She gazed around herself, looking for anything that stood out against the wall of black before her eyes.
Nothing. There was only darkness and silence.
And a curious dripping sound.
A new, strange noise, like the beating of large wings, brought Leith back into her body, along with the fear. She waited, her breath rattling in and out of her lungs. After a few moments, she built up the courage to again call out.
"Is anybody there?"
This time, something caught her ear. The soft sound of shuffling feet gradually approaching, struggling yet failing to remain unnoticed. Accompanied by the sound of heavy breathing.
Leith froze, listening intently as the sounds grew closer until they were only a few feet away. Then they stopped.
She waited for what seemed like an eternity, her eyes darting around in the dark, searching for the source of the sounds. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.
"Who's there?"
And the man was upon her in a heartbeat, a long, bony finger pressed roughly against her lips, and he shushed her, his breath raspy and dry.
Leith yelped, her breathing frantic, as the man chuckled quietly.
"What are you, child?"
That voice. She recognised that syrupy voice. It was the man with the wide-brim hat from before.
"What are you?!" he yelled, slamming a fist against the wall with a dull, echoing clang.
"I- I don't know what you mean." she whimpered, a few tears starting to crawl their way out of her eyes.
"Who is your parent? Tell me, girlie! I smell the power in your blood."
"My parent? My- my Dad's name is Robert Pierce! But I never knew my mother, my Dad never talked about her!"
The man stopped, mulling over her response.
"A Goddess, then. Hmm. You don't seem like a Demeter… maybe Aphrodite. Or Athena, perhaps? Could you be of that grey-eyed wenches' brood?"
Leith hesitated. This didn't make any sense. Why was this man spouting the names of the Greek Gods?
Her thoughts were interrupted when the man moved away without warning. A slight scuffling noise followed, and it seemed as though he was pacing. "Bah! It matters not, your parentage. What does matter is how I could eat you. Roasted?"
Finely minced and boiled. Leith thought to herself.
"Fried?"
Sat on and squashed into jelly.
"Or simply eaten raw?"
Grilled over a slow fire with mango chutney. A voice muttered in the back of Leith's mind.
The scuffling sounds stopped.
Leith held her breath.
The air rippled, and she felt him move closer to her again.
"But then again. It's been a long time since I've had this kind of entertainment." he lowered his voice to a whispering purr.
"Such a beautiful little girl you are. I would imagine that a face as pretty as yours would come with a pretty voice?"
Leith whimpered in fear as she felt his rough lips brush against her neck.
"Sing for me, girlie. Dance for me. Perhaps I'll grant you just a little mercy when I slice you open."
And just like that, her bonds were broken. She fell to the ground with a thud, crying out as she scraped her palms against the rough floor of… wherever she was.
Just as suddenly as her bonds had been released, a dim, red florescent light flickered on overhead. Leith stood shakily, rubbing her aching wrists.
The man was nowhere to be seen.
The room seemed to be relatively large at first glance. It was rather plain, with bare floors and only the single red bulb swinging slightly from its cord. But the walls, they looked strange. Lumpy, almost, and glistened a little in the crimson light.
There was that dripping noise again, coming from behind her.
She turned, and was met instantly with the sight of a rotting corpse hanging from the wall.
The thirteen year old girl screamed, covering her mouth with her hands, and scrambled back, right into another corpse.
The walls. They were lined with decaying bodies.
Leith crawled into the middle of the room, surrounded by dead, and buried her head in her hands, sobbing quietly.
"What's the matter, girlie? Don't you like the decor?"
Her head whipped around and she stood, hands up in a warding off gesture. "What do you want with me? Please, just let me go!"
The man smiled, that same glint of menace in his eye.
"You don't even know what you are, do you?"
Leith hesitated, tears still streaming down her face.
"But of course you don't." he chuckled. "Now girlie, tell me. Do you see anything unusual about my friends here?" he asked, gesturing to the walls.
It took a lot of effort to bring her eyes up to face them, but when she did, she saw instantly what he was talking about. Their bellies were all sliced open, exposing most of their vital organs. But something was missing from each of them.
"Their livers are missing. All of them."
He smiled, and she knew she had guessed right.
"Indeed, girlie. Now can you guess who I am, by any chance?"
Leith swallowed her sobs, and pondered his question. Liver. Why were they missing? And as she was thinking, her eyes happened to fall on his coat. It was of odd quality. Speckled brown and white. The colours reminded her of a bird.
And then it dawned on her. The ridiculous but apparent truth. Birds. Liver. Greek myth.
Who from Greek Mythology ate the liver of his victim?
"You're the Caucasian eagle. The one sent by Zeus to punish Prometheus. You ate his ever-regenerating liver to torture him for his crimes against the Gods."
It was preposterous. She regretted saying it as soon as the words left her mouth. He was going to laugh at her, call her stupid, and then steal her liver and use it for whatever sick purpose he felt needed to be fulfilled.
But then the man, or bird, smiled that sickly sadistic smile again. And again, Leith knew she'd guessed correctly. He swept his hat off of his head, revealing a bald scalp, long hooked nose, and small, sharp eyes set within his skin, which was pulled much too tight against his skull. His coat morphed before Leith's eyes into two enormous feathered wings. His mouth and the area around it was greasy and coated in a thick, bloody crust. He was a monster.
"Liver." he muttered, licking his lips and smiling that sadistic smile, revealing small, sharp teeth. "It certainly isn't as good coming from a puny demigod as it was from a Titan, but it's enough. But we're getting ahead of ourselves here, aren't we? Weren't you going to sing me a song, girlie?"
Before flashing her one last gory grin, he disappeared once again, revealing a door behind him, and a mad cackle followed the rush of air she felt on her cheek.
Leith bolted toward the door, banging on it desperately, trying the handle, shoving it with her shoulder, screaming for somebody to help.
And the eagle returned in an instant, gripping her shoulder fiercely with his razor sharp talons. He threw her against the wall with surprising strength. She continued to scream for help, until he moved his hands to her throat, choking her.
"Now I don't want to ruin that pretty little voice of yours, girlie. So I would appreciate it if you would stop screaming. Now, SING!" the eagle screeched, letting her fall to the floor in a heap.
And amidst the sobs and whimpers, she began to sing.
The eagle relaxed as he stood over her, grinning. "Better. But I can barely hear you. Louder!"
Leith looked up at him, pain and anger in her eyes, and the words came through her clenched teeth, fierce and beautiful at the same time. It was a lullaby her father had taught her and her little sister when they were younger.
"A la nanita nana nanita ella nanita, ella."
The eagle continued smiling, shutting his eyes as if to shut everything else out.
" Mi nina tiene sueno, bendito sea, bendito sea."
He started to sway slowly with the words.
"Fuentecita que corre, clara y sonora."
His wings started to droop, started to wrap themselves closer to his body, and his head seemed to be nodding.
"Ruisenor que en la selva cantando y llora."
Something was definitely wrong with him. He seemed to be falling asleep.
"Calla mientras la cuna, se balancea."
The eagle dropped to his knees, his wings folding around his body.
"A la nanita nana, nanita ella."
He was lying on the floor by the end of it, vaguely resembling a comatose patient. Leith had no idea how that had happened, but she wasn't going to sit around and wait for him to wake up. She had to get out of there. Coming to the door again, she tried the handle. Once satisfied that her efforts were pointless, she studied the room once again. There was nothing she could use to break the door down, and besides, it was too solid. She couldn't risk waking the eagle up with the noise it would take to get it open either.
But wait. A key. He must keep one on him, for there was no other way in and out of this place.
Looking down at the sleeping bird of prey, she officially deemed today as her worst one in a long time.
…
Glen Hallowell's eyes darted nervously around the coffee shop, naturally suspicious of his surroundings. Once satisfied, he scampered up to the counter and ordered a black coffee with as many caramel-flavoured additives as possible.
The hipster barista guy nodded in his direction without looking up. Glen thanked him and headed for a booth, but when he saw that he was still nodding his head, he noticed the ear bud cords emerging from under his fedora. Rolling his eyes at the eccentricity of modern society, Glen slid into his chair, waiting for his coffee.
Bored, he turned his attention to the flat screen hanging on the wall.
It was showing CBS news, with a live police report. Something about a girl who'd been kidnapped, but escaped when she… sung her captor to sleep?
He stared up at the television, watching as pictures flashed across the screen, photos taken from the room that the girl had been held in. It was a dark room, lit by a single red bulb. The walls were lined with corpses, suspended by their wrists from chains. One set of shackles was empty.
The pictures stopped coming, and it changed to show the girl being questioned by a reporter about what had happened.
"So, Leith, how did you escape?" The reporter queried brightly.
The girl's eyes darted from the reporter, to the camera, to something out of view, and back again. "I already told you."
"We just need you to speak for the camera."
The girl, Leith, set her jaw and turned to face the camera, appearing to stare with empty eyes at Glen.
"He, ah… He was a cannibal. He wanted to, um, steal my liver. But he, first he made me sing. I don't know, maybe he was bored or something… I just…"
Leith turned away suddenly, and Glen could see she was fighting back tears.
"Just what, Leith?"
Glen almost snarled at the reporter's question. Could he not see how barely she was hanging on?
"I just don't know. He made me sing and then he fell asleep. Where is he, anyway?"
The reporter didn't say anything for a while, and then he admitted that the man had escaped.
Leith stared at him, open-mouthed. She didn't say a word. She just sat there. And then she lunged at him. The camera went flying and there were frantic voices shouting "Get her away from him!"
" Leith, stop!"
"Somebody, cut the cameras!"
Until the screen went black and it cut back to the presenters in the office, looking mildly shocked.
Glen stared down at his table, thinking furiously. The girl had lied; he could see it in her eyes. Something much more terrifying had gone down in that place. But she hadn't lied about the singing. And nobody had the power to make people, or monsters, do something just by singing to them.
Except that opera chick, perhaps, he mused. Dang, she had been as pretty as the flowers in her hair.
The voice of the barista calling out his order jarred Glen back into his body, and he went up to grab his coffee.
…
Standing in the car wash, staring into the makeshift rainbow fabricated from the mist, Glen fished a drachma out of his pocket and threw it into the water, muttering the appropriate prayer and address.
The rainbow shimmered, and after a second or two of distortion, an image appeared within the mist. It was a man with scruffy brown hair and beard seated in a wheelchair on the deck of a big blue farmhouse. He had a glass of lemonade in his lap, and seemed to be gazing away from Glen at the green surroundings. His eyes held a glint of mischief on the surface, but if you were to look beyond that, you would see layer upon layer of resigned sadness, deep within his shining brown eyes.
"Chiron!" Glen grinned at the man, waving an arm. He stopped after realising that it distorted the mist.
The man turned to face him and a smile spread across his face. "Mister Hallowell, how are you?"
"I'm not dead yet, thanks for asking. But the Styrofoam cups in this part of town aren't as good as I'd hoped."
Chiron threw back his head, laughing. "Well that's too bad, my friend. But what is it that gave you the need to call me?"
Glen hesitated. "Well, I think I found one. It hasn't been confirmed, but I have reason to suspect it, and I just needed your permission before…"
"Before what?" Chiron asked, frowning.
"Before… getting her out of the police station." Glen finished, looking away guiltily.
Chiron rolled his eyes. "Fine. If that is what it takes. For all we know, she could be being questioned by a monster as we speak."
Glen nodded. "Right. I'll do my best, sir."
The lining around Chiron's eyes crinkled when he smiled. "You may just be the only person I know who has ever addressed me as 'sir', my dear satyr. Now go. Bring her back safe."
Chiron waved a hand over the mist, and the image rippled a bit before disappearing.
With that, Glen placed the spray-thingy back into its socket and headed off, removing his oversized beanie briefly so he could run a hand through his curly blond hair. His fingers ran over the medium-sized curled goat's horns protruding from his skull and he scratched an itch that was forming at the base of one of them.
Sighing, he turned back onto the footpath, took his bearings, and headed in the general direction toward the police station.
"It's going to be a long day."
...
I hated writing this, to be honest. I mean, I've got so many ideas for this fanfic, but I just couldn't really be bothered with this chapter. I apologise in advance if I take ages to update again... It's just, so few people read this, and... I'm lazy. XD
Bu' yeah, so, Glen Hallowell, I just had to include an OC satyr, because, there just aren't enough satyr characters in PJO, y'know? So yeh... Thanks for reading! If you want to read more, reviews make me write faster. So you should definitely review. XD
Wick out! ;3