Blood
He ran, ran like his life depended on it, feet pounding in the rhythmic thump, thump, thump, as his old worn sneakers hit the dying leaves and dehydrated twigs. His breath came out in wisps of white steam. Gravity defying hair was full of twigs, leaves and whatever else had fallen from the trees.
His breath was ragged like he'd been running for a long, long time – which he had. Sweat beaded on his forehead, tumbling into his eyes and blurring his path.
The weight of his trusted sword sat in his hand but he didn't use it, if he was to turn and fight now he would surely meet his doom. Large gashes ran down his legs in groups of three's – claw marks. Blood ran freely down his leg, soaking into what was once his jeans.
Whap.
The branch of a tree hit him above his right eye; opening yet another wound. Blood gushed out, blinding him in that eye. He smiled sadistically.
Give them blood, blood gallons of the stuff.
He would have laughed aloud at the irony of the lyrics.
Give them all that they can drink and it'll never be enough!
He wasn't sure where the song lyrics had come from, they seemingly appeared from the dark abyss that was becoming his mind.
So give them blood, blood, blood.
He completely blamed his ADHD. Who else would think of a song in a moment like this? In a moment where he could quite possibly loose his life.
Grab a glass because there's going to be a flood!
He dropped his sword in hope that he could gain some speed, the bronze hit the ground with a thump. Moments later there was a cry of anger. He smirked. He'd unintentionally hit the… thing chasing him.
A celebrated man amongst the gurneys.
His breathing was ragged – more ragged than to begin with – his lungs were on fire, desperately trying to draw in more oxygen.
They can fix me proper with abit of luck.
He stumbled; once, twice, thrice. His feet came out from under him, his hands shot out to cushion his fall.
The doctors and the nurses they adore me so.
Skidding along the floor the flesh from his hands was removed. Looking at them he sighed why does this always happen to him?
Which is really quite alarming because I'm such a little fuck (Oh thank you!)
Blood was now gushing from his hands. In hope to get away he tried to get up only to tumble back down into his original position.
I gave you blood.
He rolled over to face the thing – the Lamia perhaps. She had a long snake tail (reminding him somewhat of a dracaena but she didn't have the distinguishable hiss of the dracaena) a small crop top covered her upper body, long chocolate coloured hair tumbled over her shoulders. She may have once been an attractive but the paper like skin revealing the webbing of veins beneath, the fangs pointing out of her mouth and the six long – three on each hand – metallic claws dripping with blood all ruined the effect.
She cackled and approached him.
Blood.
She continued to cackle gleefully as she dug her claws into his stomach, ripping his top in the process. Dragging her claws left and right, cutting up his abdomen, blood gushing out in streams. Her eyes, poison like eyes, made contact with his. And then she pulled. His insides became his outsides yet he did not cry out. He could see his intestine lying next to him. He did not cry out. She dragged her claws along his abdomen once again, gripping onto something else; yet he refused to cry out, instead choosing to bite down on his own lip until blood burst from it, leaving a metallic taste in his mouth. She smirked, she pulled on whatever she had her grip on once again and out came his stomach. Undigested food came tumbling out. He thought the need to vomit. He clawed hand moved once again to his abdomen but this time he whimpered.
Gallons of the stuff.
She smiled, quicker than what he could follow she latched onto his neck. Her fangs piecing his skin as she began to draw blood, sucking it out forcefully.
I gave all that you can drink and it has never been enough.
She drew away from his neck wound, looking at him noticing his blood stained teeth and smiled; a smile that may have once belonged to someone pretty, not the monster before him. She kissed his neck where she had pierced his skin before once again turning to his face. She leaned in closely and… kissed him. Hard.
Forcing her tongue into his mouth, relishing the metallic taste of blood.
I gave you blood, blood, blood.
She pulled back and lent to whisper into his ear.
"You are mine Perseus Jackson."
If he had the strength he needed he would have thought back but he didn't have the strength, it just wasn't there. Instead he gathered all his blood in his mouth and spat at her. Giving her a bloody smile he embraced the darkness which would remove the pain. Ignoring the Lamia's enraged cries.
I'm the kind of human wreckage that you love!
Perseus Jackson was no more.
Okay what the heck did I just write?! Did I just kill Percy?! What the heck? This was not how I planned for this one-shot to go… I was originally going to call this running but with the amount of blood and gore the name blood was more… suiting.
This is my first one-shot and I'm pretty proud of it actually. I've rated it a T but should I bump it up to an M?
Let me know what you think of *waves hands* this.
Oh before I forgot.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own PJO or the song blood by My Chemical Romance.
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