I got this idea after watching Deadman Wonderland and getting really frustrated, so bear with me please. If it's uber-bad, I'm really sorry. And, I'll tell you now, I haven't yet read Blood of Olympus, so I know the end is probably different from the book. Please don't flame at me for that.

Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

-PJO—PJO—PJO-

I stood on a tall hill that overlooked the battlefield the Second Giant War took place on, staring at the blood and carnage covering it. All because I wasn't strong enough to protect everyone. I had the power to stop all of the death, all of the blood and gore, and yet I didn't. The voices of those I couldn't save echoed through my head. Blamed me for their deaths and for the pain they suffered.

As I watched the battlefield, a wave of sick glee washed over me. 'Pretty,' I thought, staring at the blood staining the ground, and the mutilated bodies that went with it. I sadistic smile broke out on my face. I'm sure that if I could look in my eyes, I would see an insane gleam in them.

"Percy?" It was Annabeth. "Are you alright?" I looked down at the pool of blood beneath my feet and stretched my hand towards it. Using the water in the blood, I formed it into a long, lethal blade. "Percy?" I hardened the blood, grabbing the hilt of the blade.

Annabeth placed a hand on my shoulder. I quickly took a few steps forward, then spun around and slashed the sword down diagonally. It slashed along the blonde's chest and abdomen. Blood spurted from the wound and splashed onto my face. I grinned widely. "Per . . . cy . . ." Annabeth whispered, then fell forward onto the ground, hitting with a dulled thud.

I let out a short, mad laugh. "Beautiful," I muttered, watching the blood pool beneath the girl and stain her golden hair crimson.

"Oh my gods!" I heard someone behind me scream. Soon a huge crowd of demigods and Hunters alike were running towards me. I pulled Riptide out, taking the cap off with my teeth. Weapons were drawn and insults thrown. I only laughed gleefully and charged the crowd, slashing and hacking at people.

I chopped and slashed and stabbed and only when there were visible piles of my friends—my family—building up around me did I start to cry. And yet I still slashed and hacked. I lunged at Nico, sending attack after attack at him, and he blocked all of them. "What are you doing, Percy?! Look around you!" Those were the first words I'd heard since I attacked them.

I froze, then looked around me, lowering the blades. I looked at the dead bodies of the family I murdered, and the horrified and disgusted faces of the ones that were still alive. The swords dropped from my hands, clattering to the ground. Sobs wracked my body and tears flowed freely down my face as I looked at the chaos and death I'd caused. I fell to my knees and clutched my head.

"What have I done?! What have I . . . " I trailed off. Pain overwhelmed me, radiating from my head. The voices wouldn't stop talking, whispering, shouting at me. I begged and pleaded them to stop, begged for forgiveness, begged for death. It felt as though I was poisoned. I couldn't move, I was in so much pain, and I couldn't do anything about it.

I squeezed my eyes shut, still sobbing and begging for everything to stop. I barely processed the various flashes of light that filtered through my eyelids. Someone placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, but I flinched away from it. "Don't touch me," I pleaded. "Please just don't touch me."

I could hear words being spoken and whispers flying through the air, but I blocked it all out. I slowly rocked my body back and forth, pain flaring through me like a fire. Someone tried to place a hand on my forehead, but I flinched away again. Firm yet gentle hands were placed on my body, holding me down firmly. No matter how much I struggled I couldn't break from them. I didn't want to open my eyes, fearing that the demons of Hell would be there to drag me back to Tartarus.

The hand placed itself on my forehead again. I could hear the mysterious person whisper unintelligible words. The voices started fading from my head, and I drifted into the dark abyss of my mind.

-PJO—PJO—PJO-

They kept yelling, laughing, taunting, jeering at me. They wouldn't stop shouting at me, or telling me how it was all my fault that they died. They wouldn't leave me alone or give me some peace. I pleaded to them to stop, but they wouldn't. All of their faces flashed before my eyes.

I fell to my knees and squeezed my eyes shut and begged them to stop, but they were merciless. They forced their way into my head, told me how much they hated me and that I should just go die. They wouldn't stop.

I woke up with a jolt, but kept my eyes closed and steadied my breathing. Voices reached my ears. ". . . don't know why he would go crazy like that. What could push him so far?" I recognized the voice as Chiron's.

"Oh, I don't know," came Nico's voice, surprisingly sarcastic. "Maybe forcing two wars on his shoulders without help, with the lives of everyone he cares about at stake? I don't blame him for going crazy like he did. I probably would too." I was confused for a second, but then the memories came flooding back. Tears dripped down the sides of my face onto the pillow and into my hair.

"I just wonder . . ." Nico began, "when did he learn how to use blood like that? Even his father hadn't thought of using it like that."

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry." I rolled onto my side and sobbed into my hands, unable to handle the grief and guilt.

"Perce," I heard Nico say sadly. He carded his hand through my hair.

I tensed, then slapped his hand away. "Don't. Just . . . don't. I don't deserve kindness." My voice broke multiple times. "I killed them. All of them! How can you be so gentle?!" I yelled.

Nico was silent for a moment. The only sound in the room was my soft sobbing. "You weren't in your right mind. You went insane. It's not your fault."

My breath hitched. "I remember those moments. When I was killing them," I said softly. Nico gasped. "I . . . there was so much glee, so much peace in those few moments. I felt the happiest I'd been in a long time, no matter how sick it was. I didn't feel insane. Even now, the voices are there, teasing me and taunting me. It's-" I stopped talking. "Just leave me alone."

"You can't be left alone," Chiron said, finally speaking up. "We don't know if you'll snap again."

"Then just kill me!" both of the men in the room gasped in shock. "Get rid of the threat all together!"

"We're doing this to help you as well," Chiron said. I could feel his worried gaze on my back. "Until Mr. D gets back from his meeting on Olympus, we have to make sure you don't snap."

"What could Mr. D do?!" I shouted at them, sitting up.

Both of them jumped. "Well, he's the god of insanity, so-"

"You don't get it! This won't just go away with a snap of a god's fingers! It isn't as easy as that! It never is. I bet you that right now they're talking about how to execute me! They're probably talking about the worst way to torture me before they end my miserable life!" The two looked at me in stunned shock. I was breathing heavily, and tears blurred my vision. "With what I've done, I deserve it." I whispered these words so low that Chiron's eagle ears barely caught them.

A snap of fingers came from the doorway. It was Mr. D. "It is that easy," he said, smirking. I glared at him.

"Will it make the guilt go away? The dreams? The voices? No, it won't," I said, intensifying my glare. "It won't do anything for me but make it more painful." Mr. D flinched under my harsh gaze, but I paid it no mind.

"We came to the conclusion that you either get your mind healed by me, or you'll be killed for murder of the gods' children, and the Hunters. So make your choice, Peter Johnson," Mr. D told me mockingly.

"One," I began venomously, "my name is Percy Jackson. And two, the gods can kill me if they like, but I won't let you do anything to my mind."

"Percy!" Nico protested, anger in his eyes. I flinched at the harshness in his eyes, but stayed strong.

"No, Nico. I refuse to let the gods mess with me any more than they already have," I told him, looking him straight in the eyes. The son of Hades stayed quiet, understanding the meaning behind those words.

"Then we must take you to Olympus, Peter Johnson," Mr. D. told me, then snapped his fingers. The next thing I knew, I was standing in the middle of the throne room of the Olympian gods. All of them looked down on me with a myriad of different emotions.

Some looked at me with hatred or disgust, some looked at me with pity or sadness, and others just looked at me with no emotion at all. It took all of my willpower not to bend under all of their gazes. I kept an impassive expression, ignoring the tears staining my face.

I met my father's eyes and saw only disappointment and disgust in them. I quickly averted my gaze. Of course he was disappointed in me. I was supposed to be the Hero of Olympus, strong and indestructible. And here I was, gone insane and the murderer of my comrades. I couldn't see how anyone could look at me with pity or sympathy or anything other than disgust and hatred and disappointment.

"Perseus Jackson," Zeus boomed, drawing me out of my thoughts, "are you aware that, if you choose not to be treated by Dionysus, then you will be sentenced to death for the murder of your fellow demigods?"

"It's not as if you haven't killed demigods as well," I bit out, glaring darkly at the king of the gods. Anger was obvious on Zeus' face. "And don't even think about using the 'immortal deity with ultimate rights' card on me. That's bullshit."

"How dare you speak to me that way?!" Zeus roared. He pulled his weapon out and aimed it at me. "If you wish for death, then I shall bring it to you." The air around me crackled with electricity.

"Brother," my father finally spoke up. "You need to calm down." I refused to meet anyone's eyes after that. Arguments erupted around the huge room, and fights ensued. I flinched at each yell. Then, suddenly, the voices in my head started yelling, too. They yelled, screamed, whispered, and taunted me. I fell to my knees, clutching my head.

Nobody noticed, too busy arguing to even glance at me. Tears rolled down my face. "Please, just stop," I begged, over and over again.

"Silence!" Someone yelled, louder than all of the other voices. I didn't know who it was that yelled. I didn't care either. I just wanted the voices to leave me alone. I wanted peace.

'You don't deserve peace,' the voices told me. 'You're a murderer. A killer. An insane maniac. All you deserve is pain.'

I felt eyes on me, felt hands on me, heard voices outside of my head. I didn't acknowledge any of it. "Just put him out of his misery already!" I heard Apollo yell. "He doesn't deserve this kind of torture!"

I glanced up at him and saw the pain he was going through. From seeing me in this state. It was my fault. The voices agreed with me. I pleaded with them to stop talking, to be quiet for one second. They didn't listen.

More fighting broke out. This time about me, about what they should do with me. Some of them wished for me to be ended mercifully (Apollo, Hermes, Hades, and Hestia), while the rest wanted me to have a painful and torturous death (the rest).

I wasn't sure which one sounded better. The one that would distract me from the voices in my head, or the one that would allow me to apologize to those I killed. Both were inviting. But there was no point in thinking about it. I wouldn't have a say in it.

All of the voices that echoed around me became quiet. The only sound in the throne room was my soft sobbing and pleas, and the sound of someone rustling around in a bag. A hand gently grabbed my arm and brought it down from my head. I stopped talking and looked up at Apollo. He looked so sad, as if someone close to him had just died.

"It'll be over soon, Perce," he whispered to me, then injected me with a strange black liquid. Darkness began flashing in my line of vision. The voices faded from my head. I fell forward into the sun god's arms, then lost consciousness.

-PJO—PJO—PJO-

There's the first chapter of Insanity. I'm not sure whether to continue it or not, so I'll just leave it alone for now. Drop a comment and tell me how I did. And if I should continue it. Thanks for reading! Until next time . . .

~O'Malley out!