When Annabeth died- A Percy Jackson Hc
He refused to be called anything other than âJacksonâ when Annabeth died.
Torn with grief and rage, he unleashed havoc upon any monster that crossed him. within himself, the raft that had once been floating calmly on a smooth sea of hope and happiness was now helpless amidst an ever-growing storm.
he wanted to hurt the cyclopes. Torture it. Make it suffer. He savoured the terror in the monsters pleading eyes as he controlled its limbs to tear itself apart and choked it with its own blood. He thrived off it. But it did not satisfy the hunger within him. One was not enough.
Jackson hunted down every cyclopes he could find. He relished their screams as he destroyed them with a savagery only seen within the darkest depths of himself. A savagery that could only be quelled by the love of his life. A savagery that had once been contained within his own Pandoraâs box, of which he had given to Annabeth for safekeeping.
Nothing, not eve charmspeak, could stop him.Â
Dead.Â
She was dead. There was no kind way of putting it.
However, when Jackson stormed the underworld, the god of the dead felt true fear. Enraged at the gods, and the fates, Jackson marched to Hadesâ throne and pointed the tip of his sword at the godâs face, demanding to take Annabeth home.Â
Hades saw past the storm in the mere childâs eyes, no, a grieving manâs eyes; and found himself gazing into a mirror of his own desperation, longing, and grief, when his beloved Maria Diâ Angelo had died.
Upon recognising the love Jackson felt for his lost companion, Hades offered a deal, the same he had offered to Orpheus. Jackson, of course, agreed to the terms, willing to do anything.
He began the long journey back to the surface. Over many days and nights, Jackson battled monsters and fought against hunger and thirst, all the while refusing to look behind him, where Hades had explained that Annabeth would be ten paces behind. Jackson had to trust that Annabeth would follow. Jackson hated having to rely on the words of a god. But it was his only hope, so Jackson continued his path.
 However, with every passing minute Jackson spent in the tunnel, the stronger the storm inside him became, the raft thrashing on a sea of despair, desperately bailing out hopelessness and failure against the rearing waves.
Finally, after many days of agony, Jackson saw a light at the end of the tunnel. just one more step. One more step. He was so close.Â
He broke into a run.
He could feel the sunlight brush at his feet and skin. He hadnât heard any sound from her, despite his constant pleading with her to respond. He had talked to her, sung to her, but he received no recognition. Was Annabeth still behind him? he had to check.Â
No.Â
He pushed forward into the light, took a breath of fresh air, and turned around.
Annabeth wasnât in the light. She hadnât caught up to him.
 The gods on Olympus flinched as Jackson screamed.
 He watched, hopeless, as Annabeth smiled at him sadly, and began to fade, the swirling mist enveloping her as she was dragged back down the tunnel. Jackson reached out a hand, but his fingers met only stale air.Â
he collapsed to his knees. The raft sank the ocean floor, The last fragment of the soul of a hero drowning with it.
 I know its ooc I wrote this at like 2am
