Percy was used to bad dreams. They were inevitable if you were a demigod. Sometimes they helped, sometimes they got you killed, it was just the luck of the draw really. The God's playing Wheel of Fortune with your fate.

Win a vacation, go bankrupt, get viciously torn apart by a horde of monsters.

Every demigod was on that Wheel and Percy Jackson...well, he was a returning contestant.

Again

And again

And again.

But tonight the Wheel wasn't just spinning for him, he could feel another's fate slowly mingling with his own as he tossed and turned in his sleep, lost in a world of dreams.

He stood in a run down warehouse, surrounded by what could only be considered a 'tough crowd', but no one seemed able to see him, which suited Percy just fine. They seemed to be the typical thugs, everyone was covered in prison and gang tattoos, people were conducting 'business deals' in dark corners, others were drunkenly stumbling around. But the main focused seemed to be on the center of the room. Percy wove his way through the crowd until he saw that everyone was surrounding a rudimentary fighting ring. Four splintery wooden posts, fraying ropes, and nothing more than a tarp protecting you from the concrete floor.

Great, Percy thought bitterly, Fight club.

The crowd gave a loud roar, some in anger others in celebration, and for the first time Percy noticed two fighters locked in an intense combat.

One was a sinewy, college age kid, his pale skin was littered with dark bruises, and lacerations, and his equally pale eyes were alive with obvious malevolence. The opponent was a girl probably around Percy's age 15 or 16, her dark brown hair was tied up in elaborate braids and her green eyes were alight with adrenalin. It was obvious to Percy just by their expressions who was winning, that and the fact that the girl had the older kid in a fierce choke hold.

Her knee presses against his back, her hands locked together forming a fist over his windpipe as she leaned back to apply more pressure. The older kid's lips turned blue and he gasped for air, the girl's expression softened the slightest bit as she let him go. He slumped forward and choked, trying to force oxygen past his quickly bruising windpipe.

He recovered surprisingly quick, slamming his fist on the ground and yelling in rage he turned and lunged at the smaller girl. For a split second Percy felt a wave of protectiveness crash over him. Sure, the girl was obviously tougher than she looked but still this fight seemed unfair. Before Percy could do anything the crowd erupted into noise again, the girl had sidestepped the man's attack and his momentum had carried him right into a wooden post. He turned and shook his head, momentarily stunned.

Percy watched, kinda impressed, as the girl fanned her leg up in a high kick, she missed, but in one fluid motion she had landed-reversed-and brought her other heel up which connected with the older kid's jaw with a loud crunch.

The kid slumped onto the mat. For ten seconds no one did anything.

Then groans and exclamations from the onlookers as money changed hands, and people began making bets for the next fight. The girl slipped from the ring, not ten feet to Percy's right, and pushed through the crowd. Percy took one last look at the still unconscious fighter, before following the winner.

He followed her towards a dark corner and up a partially concealed ladder to a dimly lit catwalk, halfway up the grimy walls that Percy hadn't noticed before. He followed steps behind as she walked briskly towards the middle, never breaking stride, not even when a bull of a man in dark clothing tried to block her path. He simply locked eyes with her, dropped his gaze to the floor and stepped aside. Percy was strongly reminded of the Minotaur, and his curiosity only grew as he saw this giant of a mortal, practically cower away from this girl who had to be at least half a foot shorter than Percy.

The mystery girl, however, didn't seem to think anything of it, she simply brushed past and leaned casually on the railing of the catwalk, over looking the next fight, along with another college age kid.

But this one couldn't have been more in contrast to the pale one she had knocked out. This guy was dark, dark clothes, dark hair, dark eyes, staring out of a brutish face, dark tattoos covering every visible area of skin. He was young, but he was in charge, that much was obvious. He gave off an aura of power and he stood behind a guard overlooking everything.

"New security?" She asked him. The man simply nodded and took a long drag from a cigarette. "He's not very effective." The girl continued. The man exhaled a cloud of blue and gray smoke before replying. "I told him to let you pass when you showed up."

"When? Not if?"

A smirk played on the man's lips. "No, not if. When. I know you well enough by now."

"Well," The girl said, schooling her features to look hurt. "You seem to know everything about me, and yet you're very secretive about yourself."

The man ignored the comment, "Congrats, on your win, though I can't say I expected anything less."

"Thanks," The girl shifted uncomfortably.

"I assume you're here for the money you've won." The man reached into his coat and pulled out an envelope. "I'm going to give you something else, as well." The man continued as the girl pocketed the envelope, "I'm going to give you some friendly advice. Don't come back for a while. Lay low and stay away from here."

The girl was quick to hide her shock at his words with a smirk. "Losing fighters because of me, Tracy?" She asked playfully. But his tone was grave serious as he turned to face her. "No, in fact there are more people than ever coming now that you fight here." She wasn't so quick to hide her surprise and confusion this time.

"I don't under-" She started. But the man, Tracy, interrupted her. "You've gained quite a following Nym, and not all of them are fans. They're scouting you, seeing what you're made of. I've seen it happen to lots of fighters. They get a good winning streak, gain some money, some confidence, and then...well, no one knows. They just disappear forever."

"What happens to-" Nym started but again she was interrupted by Tracy. "No one knows. Look, I'm saying this as your friend." Tracy knocked lightly on the side of Nym's head. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, and a future doing something much more notable than beating up druggies and thugs for petty cash. Trust me, stay away from the fight scene for a while. I've taken a liking to you Nym. Wouldn't want you getting hurt." Nym looked at him, studying him closely. "You're not going to tell me anything else are you? You can't just drop the whole 'you're being watched and might go missing like a ton of other fighters' on someone and just not explain yourself. What's going on Tracy?"

He simply shook his head sadly. "I've been at this too long to ignore my gut, Nym. And right now it's telling me that you're already in danger, and right now you're only saving grace is your ignorance." Tracy then waved his mountain of a guard over. "Please escort Nym to the nearest subway tunnel."

Nym's eyes narrowed. "You're kicking me out?" Tracy shook his head. "I'm keeping an eye on you."

And with that the dream ended, abruptly. Percy shot up in bed, his head and body aching as though he had just done three rounds with the street fighter in his dream.

He could practically hear the god's Wheel of Fortune spinning in his head. He'd like to buy three consonants please?

WTF