A/N: Hello there. This fic has to be one of my personal favorites because it's before the PJO universe and seeing as how RR doesn't mention any of the demigods that died during the World Wars this fic gives me plenty of room to work. I hope all of you enjoy the lovely web I'm weaving.
Story of a Dead Man
December 31, 1944
Decker Ingram walked silently into a large cabaret with a scowl plastered onto his lips. The upper part of his face was covered by a pair of black goggles while his body was wrapped up tight in a black coat composed of griffon fur. A cold breath passed between his lips as he took a seat at the bar. Once he was seated, he removed his goggles to reveal a pair of dark chocolate eyes — the next thing to go was his coat, revealing the all black uniform he wore underneath. After he made sure that he had everything he would need for the upcoming journey he whistled for the bartender.
A large gentleman appeared in front of him with a beer mug in his hand; from the white apron the guy wore Decker could tell that he was the bartender. Of course the fact that he was standing behind the bar didn't hurt either. The bartender gave him a nod before speaking to him. "What'll it be?"
Decker fished around in his pocket before pulling out two gold drachmas. He met the bartender's gaze and could tell from the greedy expression on his place that gold wasn't something he received very often. "Whiskey and keep them coming." The chubby man took the money and disappeared to go and prepare the order.
After about five minutes of waiting, a glass of whiskey was placed in front of Decker and the juvenile demigod couldn't wait for the alcohol to reach his lips. He took a sip and was greeted by a familiar burning sensation as the whiskey made its way down his throat. Within a matter of seconds he was placing an empty glass back on the bar top and the bartender was passing him another glass. Once the warming feeling of alcohol was running through his body he closed his eyes and gave a peaceful sigh.
"Looks like someone can't handle their liquor."
Decker cracked his eyes open to find a girl standing beside him with a smile on her face. She had long brown hair and a pair of blue eyes that resembled pools of clear water. His eyes moved slowly over her body — normally he would've tried to imagine what she looked like without clothes but, seeing as how she was only wearing a pink boa, a bra and panties there wasn't much that he couldn't see. From her physique and clothing he guessed she was a dancer; she could have been just a regular mortal but something about her told him that she was a daughter of Aphrodite. To be completely honest he would've preferred the latter.
"I'm guessing that you like what you see. I'm Adele, daughter of Aphrodite," she said with a swivel of her hips.
Decker's brow slowly began to twitch — he had a really bad history of falling for children of love. He took another sip of his gin before glancing into her eyes. "I'm Decker."
Adele took a seat beside Decker and kicked her legs over into his lap. It took all the willpower Decker had not to look down at the perfect thigh that was resting on his person The daughter of Aphrodite couldn't help but to grin at the expression her prey wore on his face — this was her favorite part of the game she played with every man (and a few lucky women) that came into the cabaret. Once they were cornered she began showing off parts of her body that people found to be amazingly appealing.
"What's a guy like you doing in Berlin?"
"I just quit my old job and I'm looking for something new."
"You didn't quit, you ran away."
He took another sip of his whiskey and tried to ignore the annoying voice of his immortal stepmother that had a tendency to sound in his head. Persephone always chose to speak to him when he did something that she thought was wrong. It didn't matter how evil or morally corrupt what he did was as long as it pleased her she wouldn't say anything about it. She had recently gone on a crazy rampage about how he had decided to quit his old job and that he was disrespecting the House of Hades by not taking care of the family business or eradicating weak demigods.
"What exactly did you do at your old job?"
There was one part of him that didn't want to tell her because his job was horrible and most people were completely against his line of work. The other part of him, however, thought telling her would not be best because he had more than likely murdered thousands of her half-brothers and -sisters.
He sipped his drink before answering. "I don't think you'd want to know about my job. It's nothing compared to what you do." Once he finished his sentence his eyes wandered from his glass of whiskey to the thigh that rested in his lap. Damn it, why did her body have to be so appealing?
"Come on," Adele whined as she leaned closer to him. "Tell me." There was this strange power in her words that most people would've called charmspeaking but Adele called it being very persuasive.
Decker rolled his eyes and sighed before divulging his job information. "I was commander of the D.N.A."
Adele arched her eyebrow and searched her brain for something that would lead to answer of what the D.N.A was. After about five minutes of using her brain (which was something she didn't do very often) she gave up and decided to ask. "What exactly is that?"
Decker chuckled to himself; the name his older brother had chosen for the organization was simple and confusing at the same time. "The D.N.A is the Demigod Nazi Alliance."
The music that was playing within the cabaret seemed to quiet down and all eyes shifted onto Decker. His lips curled into a faint grin — no matter where he went the mention of Nazis always seemed to put people on edge. They were a political party just like every other in the world, although of course their means of gaining control were a little more radical than most people's.
Their actions mirrored those of the original Nazi organization; they went around killing off demigods of minors and lesser gods. Most of the time it ended up being a group that couldn't defend themselves — like children of Dionysus for instance. He couldn't count how many of those suckers he had murdered in the past year.
Decker glanced up at Adele and marveled at the expression of terror she wore on her face. He was the same person that she was trying to seduce ten minutes ago and now she was looking at him like he had just crawled out of the deepest pits of Tartarus. For some reason crawling into Tartarus was sounding more and more appealing to him.
"If that's true that means that you're—,"
Decker quickly cut her off. "What do you say I order you a drink?"
"I would never have a drink with someone like you — you're the reason my brother is dead!"
That was his cue to leave. He stood up, pulled his jacket back on and grabbed his goggles. With a wave he was headed towards the door — of course Adele couldn't keep her newly acquired information to herself. On his way to the door she started screaming about how he was working as a spy for the Nazi army, which couldn't have been further away from the truth. Decker was two feet away from the door when a bulky hand gripped his. His eyes moved from the hand onto the large body of the bartender that now rested beside him. "Aren't you supposed to be serving drinks?"
The bartender, who happened to be a son of Hypnos, didn't respond; instead he pulled out a five foot long sword composed of Celestial bronze. A low chuckle managed to escape Decker's mouth as he took a step back to avoid the horrible aimed slash that had been directed towards his head. His hand found its way to the black revolver that rested on his hip and within a matter of seconds three stygian iron bullets were lodged in the bartender's head. Decker's lips curled into a smile as he watched the corpse fall. There was something about the fresh smell of blood that really got his adrenaline pumping.
He took notice of the multiple people that stood around him and a sigh. "I really don't have time to play with all of you; I have some where to be."
With that being said shadows began to slowly coil around his body, he flashed a final grin to Adele before vanishing into the darkness. Of course, it wouldn't have been polite if he hadn't given everyone in the cabaret something to remember him by. Lying on top of the bar was a red arm band with a swastika in the center. He decided to leave the band behind because it represented him moving on from his past life. However, even if he didn't want to be associated the army he still enjoyed the fear that the mark struck in the hearts of others.
Decker resurfaced about two hours later somewhere outside of the Berlin city limits. He stood on top of one of the buildings that had recently come under Nazi control — when he was younger Berlin was his favorite city to visit. The people, women, and beautiful colors all attracted him in his younger days. Now at the age of twenty-one, he really didn't care for it. His hate of colors came from his days down in the underworld with Persephone and his father. When you're forced to stare at gray marble walls and trees that grow jewels for most of your life colors grow to be annoying.
"You weren't forced to stare at anything! We were helping you learn to obey orders."
"Of course, turning my legs into roots and planting me in the garden really helped me gain a sense of authority."
Persephone was about to say something that would start a mental argument but the sound of footsteps silenced her. Decker glanced down at the streets to find a team of soldiers marching into the deserted section of Berlin. Judging from the blue uniforms they wore he could tell exactly who they were.
Americans.
The son of Hades crouched down and tried to hide in the shadows. He was at the top of several most wanted lists across the world — either they were here to take him captive or America had decided to invade Germany. Seeing as how America had entered the war three years ago either of the two was reasonable. When he saw the gleam of a Celestial bronze dagger he was sure they were demigods.
"This is where his aura is strongest," one of the soldiers said. He turned to his commanding officer. "Do you have any plans sir?"
John Parker stood with a cigarette in his mouth and a frown on his face. The last place he wanted to be right now was in the middle of Germany with a six man team — from the reports he had gotten about this place enemy demigods could appear from anywhere because most of them were children of the night. "Bring out the hellhounds."
The solider in front of him nodded before pulling two black marbles out of his back pockets. He placed the marbles on the ground and clapped his hands together. Slowly, he began to chant an incantation and before long two hellhounds that were as big as tanks stood on each side of him. After each hellhound was summoned he tossed a familiar red arm band into the air. Decker's eyes opened wide — it was his band. Those soldiers must've been tracking him since he first arrived in Berlin.
"Had you just stayed with the army you wouldn't be in this situation."
"Shouldn't you be off somewhere fucking a college guy?"
He was forced to ignore Persephone's string of Greek curses on account of the large hellhounds that were growling at him. Considering he was a son of Hades he should have been able to control the hellhounds but the solider that summoned them had complete authority. Decker raised his hands up in a form of mock surrender before moving slowly towards the edge of the building. "Calm down, Fido. I'm sure we can work this out."
The larger of the two hellhounds barked — roared — at the son of Hades and lunged towards him. With a grunt Decker grabbed his revolver latched onto all the fur that he could, and wrestled the beast all the way to the ground. Most of the soldiers on the ground were surprised to see a large ball of fur hit the ground and burst into a cloud of yellow dust. In the middle of the hellhound remains (and the large crater that the beast had formed when it hit the ground) stood Decker. He was too busy sneezing to notice that the soldiers were closing in on every side of him — when he finished he glanced around with a smile. His eyes immediately locked onto the commander of the group and the two remaining hellhounds that stood beside him.
"Well, well if it isn't Herr John. After our last encounter in Italy I didn't think I'd see you again so soon. How've you been?"
After John's surprise trip to Germany he wasn't in the mood to have a pleasant conversation with the person that broke his favorite pistol a few years back. Instead he raised his hand and had his team move in towards their target. Decker's lips curled into grin — one thing he absolutely loved about John was the fact that he was completely against having fun. Most of the time when the son of Hades got into a fight he wanted his opponent to enjoy it as much as he did — John was nothing like that. He wanted nothing more than to get the fight over with and move onto the next mission like a good little military dog.
Decker raised his revolver up towards three of the oncoming soldiers and fired at their vital spots. One of them was more than likely a son of Hecate because when the bullets got within inches of his foes a green barrier appeared and stopped them cold. He arched his eyebrow and shook his head. "I can't believe you actually have someone who can use magic on your team. That doesn't seem fair at all."
Seeing as how the easy way wasn't going to work he decided it would be best to go the ghostly route. He stomped the ground with a grunt and watched with glee as shadowy figures arose from below the group of demigods — most of them screamed while they were being pulled into the darkness of the night by the only soldiers that would still obey his orders. Once all of the unimportant soldiers were gone Decker moved forwards towards John.
"What do you say you let me leave right now and I let your friends go?"
John sighed to himself, raised his hands to stop the hellhounds from moving, and pulled out the sword that rested on his hip. With a load groan he rushed forward towards Decker and brought his sword forward with a thrust. The son of Hades clapped his hands together and raised a wall of rock just in time and narrowly avoided having his stomach pierced by the sword. He placed both his hands on the wall and pressed forward — he watched as the wall flew forward, taking his foe with it.
The voice of his stepmother rang clear in his mind a few seconds later. "You should so be thanking me right now."
"Excuse me? What did you do?"
"Who told your father to teach you how to control earth? I did."
Decker shook his head and sighed. "I really don't have time for this right now."
He was just about to summon a shadow portal when the sound of ticking caught his attention. His eyes glanced around the ground and finally locked onto a small round ball that seemed to glow with a green light — Decker's eyes opened wide as the miniature bomb exploded and his body was bathed in a sea of green flames. John stood in silence with a smug smirk on his face.
"Greek fire bombs. Children of Hephaestus are really kicking some ass with the weapons."
Decker let out a loud scream as the green fire swirled around his body. Slowly the flames came together and formed a large glowing cage. Within a few seconds he was unconscious. Slowly shadowy portals began opening all around John as his subordinates were returned to the realm of the living. John grabbed his cigarette from the ground before placing it back in his mouth — once his soldiers were over their shock he raised his hand into the air. "Let's return to base. I'm sure Patrick will get a kick out of seeing his old friend again."
Ω