This story is also on Wattpad - in which I'm am the rightful owner (OF THE FAN FICTION OF COURSE! The plot, characters and everything else all belong to Mr. Rick Riordan). Just thought I'd create a FanFiction account to see what everyone on here thinks of the story. So please review! I'd love to hear some helpful feedback. :)

Hope you all enjoy this!

Chapter 1 - Nico

The darkness of the woods only seemed to grow colder as with each passing minute, the light from the rising moon above grew brighter. The pounding of footsteps was loud enough to awaken Typhon from reformation in Tartarus as a lone half-blood raced through the trees. A single sword, invisible to the eye for it blended in well with the environment, was held firm within the half-blood's grasp, its black Stygian blade sharp and hungry for the flesh of monsters. The demigod panted and gasped, as he wove through the trees, leaping over fallen stumps, stumbling through bogs, and charging through thick dark foliage in his wild haste to escape.

But what was he trying to escape from? A single howl answered his question. It tore through the woods, piercing the night, its voice inhuman and reeking of evil.

Heaving, the half-blood poured on the speed, his demigod aura giving off such a powerful odor, he was sure he was attracting every monster within a 100 mile radius. The howling behind him seemed to dissipate into the trees, its owner likely falling behind. Whatever had made the beastly sound, its body surely was massive, preventing it from pursuing the half-blood farther into this wretchedly dense woodland. Finally, the demigod came to a small clearing within the shelter of the dark trees. He leaned up against one of the trunks, trying in vain to catch his breath. A dark canopy of branches sheltered over head, giving no light into the clearing below. He should be safe here for a few minutes.

Leaning his head against the trunk, he willed the shadows around him to come forth, drinking in their energy through the dark blade of his Stygian weapon, relinquishing some of his exhaustion into the night air, and replacing it with fresh health. Drawing in a lungful of oxygen, he tried to recall what had just happened.

It was hellhounds. That was it. In his haste to escape his pursuer, he'd forgotten what had attacked them the previous night. An entire pack of them as he remembered, their glowing red eyes maleficent in the dark, claws flashing for his throat. In desperate terror, he'd found himself unwillingly, squeezing his eyes shut and being pulled forth into the depths of shadow travel, his soul bending through time and space. The transportation only lasted about a second. But when he'd re-opened his eyes, the pack was gone, and so were his two companions. The Athena Parthenos was also gone. He'd shadow-traveled to an entirely different area, leaving them on the verge of death.

Burning shame seared his face, his body flushing all the way down to his feet. He'd left his companions alone to the fate of the hellhounds; and somewhere right now, they were probably dead, or at least fighting for their lives. He knew he'd only traveled a couple of miles. These were the same forests he'd been in when the hellhounds attacked. He just had no idea now where his friends were, and he needed to find them now before whatever monster hot on his trail did.

Drawing in another lungful of air, he turned, ready to go, when suddenly, the sound of leaves crackling behind him made him freeze in his tracks. A twig snapped. The half-blood ducked behind the tree, his hand still grasping the handle of his sword. Bushes rustled a few yards to his right. Something was very close. How could he have let it sneak up on him like this? Leaning farther into the shadows, his black clothing disguised him very well, the only thing visible within the filtering light of the rising moon, was his deathly pale face, unmistakable white in the dark of the night.

The bushes parted, and out stepped a small humanoid figure. It didn't seem to carry the aura of a monster. In fact, it looked very well to be another demigod. He was about to leap out, thinking it was one of his companions, but suddenly halted himself. He still didn't trust this newcomer, even if it did look human. He decided to remain hidden, and see what it would do. But his previous hesitation was all it took.

The figure turned suddenly, its gaze pointing in his direction. The half-blood saw the faint silhouette of a long braid whipping around the figure's shoulders, an Imperial Gold sword held firm in its grasp. "Nico?" the figure asked, caution and hesitancy filling its voice.

The half-blood's spirits soared.

"Nico, is that you?"

Nico stepped out of the shadows, the moon exposing his face.

The figure recoiled in surprise.

"Hey Reyna..." Nico said, shame still burning through his clothes. "Long time, no see...?"

The figure stood there for a second, frozen on the spot, then slowly walked forward.

Nico knew what was coming. And he welcomed it. A sharp fist collided with his lower jaw, knocking him off his feet, his sword skittering into the dirt.

The figure stood tall, the light of the moon illuminating her face; beautiful, yet terrifying. "Nico di Angelo, I swear to all the gods, should you ever leave me alone on the field of battle again... especially with that scrounging old goat who carries a baseball bat, I will personally send you to the Fields of Punishment myself."

"I expected that sort of response," Nico sighed, standing up. "I'm sorry, Reyna. I didn't know what happened. I sort of just... shadow-traveled without even meaning to. It was a complete accident. I fully regret it."

Reyna looked appalled. "How can you just... accidentally shadow-travel to another area? Was a small group of hell-hounds too much to handle?" Her voice had turned mocking.

"Ha ha..." Nico growled. "I don't know how, Reyna. I really don't. I just shut my eyes, and the next thing I knew, I was here. Or... I was there." He pointed in the direction he'd come.

Reyna studied him. "You look winded. Were you running hard just now?"

"Yes," Nico muttered. "Something... some beastly thing was chasing me. I don't know what it is. It doesn't sound like any monster I've ever heard."

"Wait... you haven't seen it yet?" Reyna demanded.

"No!" Nico snapped. "I just heard it, and its voice was so loud, I thought a clan of drakons was after me at first!"

As if on cue, the monster bellowed somewhere to the north, its voice shaking the forest to its roots, the ground trembling from the force of its roar. It was much closer than before. Too close...

Reyna and Nico lost their balance for a moment, but regained their composure just as quick.

"We must lead it away from here..." Reyna said. "We mustn't let the Coach get involved. Monster or not, that crazy faun will charge just about anything he sees, even a wood-rat."

"Satyr," Nico corrected.

"Whichever," Reyna growled.

Suddenly, the trees to their right were ripped clear out of the ground, and tossed away as if they were dead twigs. Standing in their wake, was a colossal monster. It stood twelve feet tall, on huge bulky human-like legs, with a ragged grey loincloth tied around its middle. It's upper half though, was the body of a wolf. Huge hairy arms (strangely also humanoid) jutted outward with five glistening talons, and a huge wolf's head baring two rows of razor sharp fangs upon the two half-bloods.

"What is that?" Reyna gasped, stumbling backward to Nico's side.

Nico stared up into the eyes of the huge beast. He knew who this demon was. "Lycaon..." Nico growled. "Former King of Arcadia."

The wolf man snarled, the muscles rippling in his arms, as if the recalling of his former rank seeped through his veins like poison.

Nico knew there was no chance of outrunning this creature. Their only chance was speed and skill. He looked at Reyna. "When I give word, grab my hand. I'll get us back to the statue. Right now, we need to slow this thing down."

Lycaon roared, the trees bending over so low, their leaves touched the forest floor. Nico held his ground, his eyes locked on the beast. "Stand ready," he told Reyna. Raising his sword into the air, he felt a familiar pull at his gut, the earth below responding to his will, the bones of thousands of souls grasping at the earth's surface. Cracks broke through the ground at his feet. Skeletal hands clawed the air, as the dead clambered up into the world of the living. Scores of them emerged, filling up the clearing as well as a quarter mile section of the forest on both sides.

Lycaon hissed, backing up, uncertainty reflected in his actions.

The line of undead warriors held their positions, not daring to breath. Their teeth clattered, their bones creaking each time one moved.

Silence engulfed the forest for a few moments. Then Lycaon grew impatient. He bellowed, and charged the front line, claws bristling, eyes flaming. The ground shook beneath his weight.

"Attack!" Nico croaked.

As one, his skeletal army charged the beast, many jabbing bristling spear heads at their enemy's legs, others racing in from the sides, swinging roman Calvary swords, shields locked in formation.

"Nectar," Nico gasped.

Reyna ran to his side, uncorking a small bottle of the godly drink.

Nico took a small sip, and a good amount of his energy came flooding back into his limbs. But he still felt he might pass out any second if he didn't act now. "Take my hand!" he cried.

Reyna linked her fingers with his.

Nico took a last look at the battle raging before him. Lycaon bellowed in rage as he crushed dozens of skeletal warriors underfoot, while many more leaped onto his back trying to get a weighted net over him, others slashing their swords at his legs. "Keep fighting!" Nico called, hoping his voice swathed their ears (wait... what ears?). "Stand strong!" And with that, he grasped Reyna's hand tightly, and closed his eyes, imagining the place where the Athena Parthenos stood. He felt both their forms beginning to blend into shadow. The sounds of battle dimmed, Nico felt archs of electricity race up his spine, and suddenly, they weren't there anymore.

Nico opened his eyes. They stood in the shelter of a large clearing, their surroundings quiet and peaceful, not a hellhound, or werewolf in sight.

Coach Hedge lay curled in a ball at the base of the Athena Parthenos, chewing happily on one of Reyna's daggers as he slept on, his head using his baseball bat as a pillow. The dust piles that Nico assumed were the defeated essences of the hellhounds were seen scattered all throughout the clearing.

Reyna let go of his hand.

Nico stumbled forward a few feet, then turned back to look at her.

She stared back, her eyes wide and unblinking.

Nico gave her an exhausted grin, his muscles dead from shadow-traveling and summoning the dead. "Well... that was fun..." And he passed out.

So that's chapter one! What did you all think? Like I said, I'd love some creative advice for this, so by all means, don't be a silent reader! Review, follow, fav, and all that stuff!

Thank you!