DIS (like the underworld)

Demigods are always prepared

I return to where Annabeth is still on the phone. I cough and point to my watch, but she keeps talking.
"And if we don't make it back...tell Percy--"
I cover my ears with my hands and start singing the Star Spangled Banner. And I don't stop until I feel a sharp pain on my head.
"Hey! Annabeth! We're probably going to die anyway, don't speed up the process!" I protest.
Annabeth gives me a look that could kill Chronos for a third time. Then she smiles, little sadly, and sighs.
"Okay," she says. "I won't hit you, and you won't make comments about Percy. Deal?"
"Deal." I say solemnly.
We walk to the manhole cover. We both take deep breaths, then, simultaneously, lift the lid. I give a cry of surprise, half-dropping the heavy lid. Its rusty metal is as cold as...well, death. Go figure.
But we eventually lift it, with difficulty. It falls to the ground with a creepy echo. I shiver involuntarily. We peer inside.
It's dark, darker than the blackest night. A musty smell like decaying corpses (eww!) floats up from its depths. Annabeth stares down, transfixed, but I turn away and search the earth around us. My eyes fall upon a smooth, gray stone. I pick it up and chuck it down the manhole. It clangs against the walls one, two, three, four, five, six, seven times before falling silent. Annabeth locks eyes with me.
"So...how do we get down there without getting turned into pancakes?" I ask.
What I didn't know was that Annabeth happened to keep 50 feet of rope in her backpack.
Who knew?