Okay, hi. I'm more known for my Heroes of Olympus stories: The House of Hades & The Wrath of Earth and Shadows. This is a pointless oneshot really. It's about a character I made up, and he's dying. It's more of just to be somewhat thought provoking, and otherwise just to amuse you. So, without further adieu, let's begin!:

Blood. Smoke. Screaming. Steel. Blood… War.

That's what war was made of, and bodies. Bodies were always needed. They always say that more meat is needed for the grinder. That's all we are: Meat for the Grinder. I should've known this is how everything would be. We weren't important to them, just numbers on the casualty list.

To the gods, we can be replaced. We, their own children, didn't matter. So the question is, why? Why do we still fight for them? The answer: There is always something worse. I had come to terms with this knowledge a long time ago. Now, as I sit here bleeding, I question my motives.

I can feel the life draining out of me, millimeter by millimeter. Now though, I wonder, what have I left behind? How will I be remembered? Will I even be remembered? Or will I just fade into one of the forgotten heroes, never to have their names mentioned again?

I look around the battlefield, at my dead friends. Thoughts and feelings flash through my head, making my heartbeat quicken. Will they be remembered? I recognize Damien Cotton, son of Hephaestus, his fiancée is pregnant. Will she ever hear about how bravely her fiancée wielded his great sword?

I see Renee Selenium, daughter of Hecate, she was only thirteen. Did she feel excruciating pain from the arrow in her gut? Roman Irons, son of Nemesis, a halberd protruding from the crook of his neck. Did it hurt a lot? I am surrounded by bodies and piles of dust and ash. Blood drenched the field.

Whenever I laid my leg out, the ground squelched with blood. Will we be forgotten? Did Kronos already win? Did Percy and them fail? Will they ever find us? I see all the old governmental buildings, and wonder if they'll all be gone soon.

I realize that I'm beginning to feel numb. I look down and see that a pool of blood is slowly forming around me. Not much longer. The gash just under one of my ribs is deep, and I have an arrow in my Renal Artery, just next to my Left Kidney. A broken spear handle protrudes from my left pectoral.

My breath hitches for a moment. Breathing is becoming extremely difficult, pain spiking with each breath. The battle flashes briefly in my mind. City Hall Park is the location. We had found out a group of monsters lead by the Manticore reborn was flanking the Empire State Building. I took myself and fifteen others. We destroyed all the monsters, but everyone else died. We were outnumbered 41:1. We fought bravely, and I'd like to think that we bought Olympus some time.

The edges of my vision begin to darken, and I see the pool of blood has gotten larger. Why? Why did they all have to die? Why am I the only one to see the last beast fall? They didn't deserve this. Damien Cotton didn't, Renee Selenium didn't, Roman Irons didn't, none of them did. But still, they are face first on the blood soaked ground. Why did I send them to their deaths? I should've died, not them. Why couldn't Percy have been with us? He could've saved them.

I look down at my ID tag. Damien made them for the fifteen of us, so we could be identified if we all fell. I feel a new sense of determination. I force myself to my feet, but my knee buckles. A Cyclops failed to chop my leg, hitting my knee and shattering the blade. My right leg is in tatters, an absolute wreck of skin and blood.

The bodies around me are blood soaked, crimson on their now restful forms. I have a new found sense of determination. We will not be forgotten. I stand up again, this time grabbing a broken spear shaft to keep myself balanced. I lean on it like a cane. I go around and collect the ID tags. If you don't care for my list of the dead, skip on, otherwise, keep reading.

Damien Cotton- Son of Hephaestus, 19 yrs old.

Renee Selenium- Daughter of Hecate, 13 yrs old.

Roman Irons- Son of Nemesis, 15 yrs old.

Helen Matthews- Daughter of Aphrodite, 17 yrs old.

Coleman Reed- Son of Hermes, 11 yrs old.

Luke Willis- Son of Apollo, 20 yrs old.

Margaret Smith- Daughter of Hephaestus.

Danny Hoult- Son of Athena, 16 yrs old.

Micah Greene- Son of Aphrodite, 13 yrs old.

Clarke Wyldes- Unknown, 12 yrs old.

Bethany Wolffe- Unknown, 16 yrs old.

Sillas Geffy-Son of Ares, 17 yrs old.

Wayne Draimann- Son of Ares, 15 yrs old.

Bob Frost- Son of Hydros, 11 yrs old.

Amanda Applegate- Unknown, 16 yrs old.

As I hold the ID tags, and yes, I also grabbed the CHB necklaces, I choke up at Amanda's. I look at her body, her blonde hair, sticky with blood, fell gently beside her head. Her beautiful green eyes stared into nothing. Her bangs rested beside her heart-shaped face.

I kneel down, painfully, but worth it to me, and hold her against me. Tears welled up in my eyes, as I held the dead body of my world. She was everything to me, my best friend, my confidant… my love. Tears are now free-falling from my face, my determination slowly draining away.

You can't tell me that you wouldn't do the same, holding the body of the person that was your soul mate. I was losing willpower, and quickly. This may sound weird, but in heartbreak, everything makes sense, I kissed her lips, for the last time, and whisper, "You won't have to wait long in Elysium. I'll see you there." I get up, very painfully, and now begin to limp my way through the city. I'm in extreme pain, and now, I'm lost.

The blood loss begins to set in, and I begin hallucinating. I see monsters, jeering and grabbing at me. As soon as I ward them off, they turn into my dead friends. I move towards them, and they vanish. My willpower crumbles despairingly, and I begin to lose hope. I seems so tempting to just lay there, die here, in peace, quiet, let my friends be in my memory.

But, for some reason, I feel the need to push on. Yes, by this point, I had forgotten why I was doing this. I stumbled through the streets of New York. Mortals were waking up and gaping at me, pointing and screaming. I don't know why, nor did I care.

The streets seemed to get horribly longer, never ending. Hope was beginning to disappear once again, willpower nearly gone. Mortals tried to approach me, but I waved my spear shaft at them, and they backed off. I stumbled and fell, and as I lay there, more mortals began to approach. I could hear them whispering, pointing, and staring. I began to laugh, just at the absurdity of it all. The mortals are asleep! I'm just imagining things! My laugh probably sounded very psychotic, and the mortals disappeared.

Voices that sounded vaguely familiar echoed in my head. I could hear my name, and someone approached me. I thought I recognized the person. It was on the tip of my tongue, when I felt something thud into my back. The breath was knocked out of me, and I fell to my knees. The figures began running towards me. And I felt another arrow slam into my back, slamming me face first into the concrete.

I hear someone shouting for someone to shoot back. I felt the familiar figure approach me, she shouted at me: "Zeke!" I recognized the voice, Clarisse La Rue, my sister. I felt myself slip away, welcoming the darkness. They would find the tags on me, we wouldn't be forgotten. Mission accomplished.

Suddenly, a light filled my vision. A paradise entered my view. People were here, Charles Beckendorf, Silena Beauregard, and others. My eyes darted for one person in particular. I saw her. Standing in front of the gardens, smiling at me, was Amanda Applegate.

My name is Zeke Strio, Son of Ares, and 16 years old. My tale has ended, I know not whether we won the battle, or if it counted, but it doesn't matter anymore. I have finally found peace, and I won't leave it.

As I said, this is somewhat pointless. I just needed to write something while I was on Hiatus with my other stories. Please leave a review to tell me what you think, and as always, have a nice day!