A/N Every chapter will be Percy's POV unless specifically stated otherwise.

I walked through a dim hallway. The only light came from the small lanterns on the walls, which cast a creepy glow on the room. The shadows seemed to dance. But, for some reason, I didn't feel scared or anything.

In fact, I feel oddly comforted by the shadows.

I saw a face in the shadows. It was two dark to actually see anything clearly except for two bright eyes that sent chills down my spine. There were some quiet, hissed words that seemed to come from the shadow that I couldn't make out, as if it were a different language. In fact, it probably was a different language. But not one that I recognized. Then, my vision went completely dark, and I opened my eyes to see the real world.

I shut my eyes again right after. The lights had momentarily blinded me. Why do they do that? Are they trying to blind me? I slowly opened my eyes again, but then closed them again and groaned. I heard someone stand up and walk to where the light switch should be.

I tried to move, but a sharp burst of pain stopped me.

"Sorry about that, sweetie," the doctor said.

(A/N No, not The Doctor.)

I held back a groan. She was going to be one of those doctors, was she? That says "sweetie" and treats us as three year olds.

"It's fine," I replied. "What happened?"

"You got hurt," she started gently. A looked at her for the first time and raised an eyebrow.

"I can feel that," I muttered. "Besides, why would I be in a hospital otherwise? Can you please just tell me what happened? I'm afraid I don't remember."

The doctor started at me for a moment.

"What?" I asked. "I know that when something bad happens, sometimes your brain makes you forget it."

The doctor shook herself out of it. "You were found in the corner of a room in your house. You're stepfather was in the same room. Apparently you were being abused."

"Oh," I muttered in understanding. "That makes sense. What were the injuries?"

"Broken ribs, lots of your teeth were knocked out, broken left arm and leg, broken right foot and hand, lots of bruises and cuts, major and minor, and. . . a broken neck."

(A/N It is possible to survive a broken neck.)

I suddenly become aware of the casts and bandages.

I painfully pushed myself into a sitting position. The doctor tried to tell me not to, but I didn't listen.

I examined the casts for my broken bones, but I couldn't move my neck very far because of the neck cast.

"Anything else?" I asked while inspecting the casts.

"Well," the doctor said hesitantly.

"Yes?" I prompted.

"Well, your heart did actually stop beating for a little while."

I was surprised. "But you managed to start it back up again?"

The doctor let out a kind of laugh, but it wasn't a happy one. "You act like it's a machine."

"Well, for all intents and purposes, it is," I said, without looking up. "But how much does something like this cost?"

"Sweetie, a child shouldn't have to worry about that kind of thing," the doctor said. "We'll figure it all out."

"I'm not a child," I muttered. "I can help out with this all. This must cost a lot of money. Who's going to pay for it?"

"You learn that kind of thing in third grade?" The doctor said.

"I'm in sixth," I replied. "But yes, I learned about money by third grade."

"Sixth?" The doctor asked. "But. . ."

"I skipped three grades," I explained.

"Oh."

"I also never went of preschool or kindergarten."

It's all true. And the classes in sixth grade are kind of really easy. Many teachers say that I should be in high school, but I'm not allowed to skip that many grades so soon, for some reason.

I tried to adjust my arm with the cast into a more comfortable position, and I winced in pain.

"I have to go tell the other doctors you awake. Okay, sweetie?" The doctor said.

"Sure," I replied, only half-listening.

I heard her leave the room, and someone else enter a few moments later. I looked up.

"Hello, honey," this doctor said.

I almost groaned once again. First "sweetie" and now "honey."

"Hi," I muttered.

"You're going to need surgery," doctor number two told me.

I furrowed my brows. "No I don't."

"Excuse me?" Doctor number two asked.

"I asked the doctor about my injuries," I informed her. "Nothing is urgent enough for me to be operated on. My lungs are fine, my brain is fine, my heart is fine—"

"Your heart stopped, honey," doctor number two said gently.

"Yeah, I know," I replied. "But it's fine now."

The doctor coughed, but it seemed to conceal the word "unfortunately" inside of it.

I narrowed my eyes. The doctor didn't seem to notice.

"What's going on?" I asked suspiciously. The doctor caught my tone.

"Now, honey," she said.

I widened my eyes to their normal state so that I could see clearly. I knew something was going to happen, and it wasn't going to be good.

The next thing I knew, doctor number two had changed. All of a sudden, she was some kind of ugly, winged monster.

"Die, honey," she snarled.

And to think I was sitting on a hospital bed with a bunch of broken bones.

She flew at me.

I rolled out of the way, and was surprised to find that it didn't hurt that much. I was not fooled though; I knew the pain was still there. I'd feel it later, but at this moment, I was charged with fear and adrenaline.

I fell off the bed, but I quickly got to my feet. I got a good look at the doctor. She was just like a Fury from Greek mythology. . .

I looked at her name tag, which she still had on.

"Stacy Dodds," (A/N The first name is random, by the way.) It read.

I made a mental note of her name. I would need to remember it for when I tell the people in charge not to hire monsters from Greek mythology that want to kill their patients.

She lunged at me again. I dodged it somehow, and she swiped the air next to my ear.

"Percy!" Shouted a voice I didn't recognize. I turned to see a man with a wheelchair in the doorway, holding a pen. "Catch!"

He threw the pen. I don't know why I did it, but I caught the pen. But this was no longer a pen.

It was a bronze sword.

Mrs. Dodds lunged at me.

I wasted no time before doing what came naturally: I swung the sword. It cut through Mrs. Dodds as if she were made of water. She exploded into a yellowish powder.

I looked back at the door, meaning to thank the man in the wheelchair, but he wasn't there. I looked back at where the pile of dust had been, but it must've been blown away by wind through the open window.

And in my hand was a ballpoint pen.

I started to get tired again. I sat back down on the bed and lay down.

Then, the pain caught up to me.

I must've re-broken several bone, and may have broken a few different ones. There were definitely new bruises.

I let out a small yelp of pain before darkness overtook my vision once again.

A/N I am making this up as I go along. Don't know how I managed to make that chapter, but it just. . . happened. I'm literally making this up as I go along, but my ideas are pretty much just a. . . Shadow. . .

Did you catch the pun? Because "Shadow" is the name of the story. . .

It was a terrible pun, I know.

But honestly, I'm not sorry.

Disclaimer: To be honest, all of you should know what I own and what I don't own. If you thought that I am a good enough author to be Rick, then thank you, but I'm not. I do want to be an author though. . .

~ShatteringThe4thWall