They didn't care.
If they did, he would be with all his friends and families.
Laughing and talking and having fun.
He thought they cared.
Now, he know what they truly are.
Cold-hearted mindless fools that only cared about their reign.
Who only cared about those who seemed strong were could be broken easily.
Unlike him.
The one who was succumbed to this torture.
But has not broken.
Not until now.
They broke him completely.
He was shattered.
That was who he was:
Percy, the broken demigod.
Not the hero of Olympus.
It's been 5 years since the Giant war.
5 Years since they stopped caring about him.
In those 5 years they should have found him and saved him.
Yet he was stuck here,
In this hellhole.
Where his agonized cries and screams only brought pleasure to those who were around him.
It was only a matter of time until he died.
Waves of memories crashed over him.
As he awaited his death.
He heard something, felt something. It was always there yet it would disappear the moment he almost knew what it was.
A whisper, a voice that would calm him down.
That made him sane.
A kind voice in the dark.
One that continued talking as though it was oblivious to the fact that he could not reply.
He was ready to go over.
Leave the place they call life.
Never to be reborn as a new soul.
Because he knew,
Even if he was reincarnated,
He would always remember this.
He didn't care whether he would be a beggar living on the streets,
Whether he was a rich businessman,
Whether he was a pilot risking his life to save the country…
Everything was better than this.
He was barely sane.
Because of a whisper that told him things.
The whisper was gone a week before.
He could still hear its voice:
You will be saved.
He didn't believe anymore.
He should be dead,
In the underworld.
Begging for a new life.
To be free of everything.
Yet he was still here,
Enduring this pain.
Still alive.
He heard footsteps.
A caring voice.
But isn't that how his captors had sounded like?
Promising freedom.
Now it was all over.
He should not care.
Because when they say these things,
They are lying.
The voice swore in ancient greek.
A language he had not heard in years.
The door to his cell flew open.
The small amount of light that the person radiated
Almost blinded him.
He could feel the warmth rolling off in waves.
Calming him down.
So the whisper was right.
He would be saved.
It was just a matter of time.
He felt a rough hand brush over his forehead, cooling his body down.
He felt arms lifting him from his position.
Only to realize the shackles and chains that bound him.
Moments later, he felt the weight disappear.
He was saved.
After 5 years,
He was rescued.
So people still did care about him.
They were not what he had thought they were.
Heartless and emotionless.
But they had a heart.
They cared.
He could feel himself carried away from the cell.
Away from all the pain he had been through.
It was finally over.
He was free of the pain that had weighed him down.
He heard the voice say: sleep.
And he felt consciousness go as he fell asleep.