Disclaimer: All rights go to Rick Riordan.
Chapter 1: The Curse
A man of 16 roamed the streets of New York mutely, devoid of any life. His eyes bore straight ahead of him. He had no destination in mind; he went wherever his legs would take him.
The night was cold, albeit being August. A cool breeze travelled weaved it's way through the concrete jungle, garnering a shiver from the man.
He stopped and pulled his mangled jacket closer around his shoulders. He let a shaky breath out. It was so cold you could see his breath, travelling beyond his mouth only to dissolve into the air.
He glanced up towards the heavens. Looking past the stars thoughtfully. One particular group of stars caught his eye. The Huntress.
He stared wistfully at the constellation, remembering his former friend. He took a deep breath and pushed away the memories. It was simply just another thing to add to his already depressed mind.
He continued his trek onwards, not really looking where he was going. Finally, he decided that it would be time to return to his friends at camp, after a week of roaming. They were probably worried at him. He smiled fearfully at the beating he would receive at the hands of Thalia.
You see, this was no ordinary man. This was the hero of Olympus, Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon.
Even after saving the world from Titans, he still could not find peace. The life of a demigod never ends well. Despite being named after the only demigod that had a happy ending, Percy was not granted the same luxury.
His mother, the person he cared for more than anyone else was dead at the hands of Kronos. The person he loved, the person he would have sacrificed godhood for, his mortal anchor, Annabeth, turned out to be working for Kronos the entire time clouded by a misplaced love for Luke. It was all a joke. The love they had, a sick prank. After she was found guilty, she was banished to Tartarus for treason.
He was angry. Yes at Annabeth, but more at himself. He didn't realize that she was a traitor, although being her closest friend. Not as close as I thought. He thought to himself in disgust. Had he realized that she was with Kronos, he could have prevented so many more deaths. More of his friends would be alive if not for her. His mom would still be alive. He felt weak. If he was stronger, perhaps things could have ended differently, and he could be granted with the happy ending he so desired.
Percy sighed once more, steeling himself for the onslaught he would receive for leaving camp for a week with no notice.
When he finally looked up from his thoughts, he noticed he was no longer on the busy streets of Manhatten, but instead he was a forest. The trees towered above him, casting dark and menacing shadows on the forest floor. The only light came from the moon, filtering through the canopy above. It was a full moon that night. It only added to the malevolence this place already carried.
He glanced around, on full alert. He scanned the trees for any threats. Suddenly, a howl broke through the thick silence of the woods. Percy reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen. He swiftly uncapped it and it grew in size to a three foot long sword of death and destruction.
Percy held his sword at the ready. Footsteps ran through the forest as he looked back and forth, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound. Except it wad all around him.
He quickly realized these were not the steps of a human, but of a creature. More footsteps broke him from his thoughts. It was not just one creature, but several of them. They were closing in.
Percy was panicking, his breath caught in his throat. A low growl emitted to his right. He swivelled around, sword level with his attacker. A wolf.
Several more came in to join the first. Soon he found himself surrounded by a pack of wolves.
He eyed each of them. Their eyes showed that they were obviously hungry. Drool dripped from their teeth as they eyed their prey, ready to strike.
"Hello Perseus." A voice spoke from his right. He whirled around and was met with a pair of yellow, wolf-like eyes. It was man, and yet there was something off about him. He was hairier than any man Percy had ever seen and was built like a tank. He wore a hoodie that had the sleeves ripped off. But what was off about him was his eyes. They weren't normal. They kept glancing in every direction, seeming to analyze everything about their current location. The pupils were not round like a normal man's, but were slivers like a cat's.
"Lower the sword Jackson. It cannot harm me regardless." The man sneered.
Percy kept his sword level with the man's face. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"
The man burst out laughing. "So cautious, Perseus."
After he was done, he stared at Percy, "You blame yourself for your friend's and mother's deaths. You think you aren't strong enough to protect them."
He paused, "and you're right. You barely survived this war, and you won't make it through the next."
He seemed to notice Percy's surprise when he mentioned another war. "That's right Perseus. There is another war coming. And you won't be able to survive."
Percy ground his teeth together, the muscles in his jaw working with anger. He knew the man was right. He knew that he didn't have enough power to do anything. But he was more angry the Fates had decided to include him in the next war. It was cruel. It wasn't fair. He had done enough for the damn gods.
"I can give you more power." He said nonchalantly.
Percy raised his eyebrow and lowered his sword a bit before asking, "Who are you?"
The man grinned, pointed fangs protruding from the corner of his mouth. "I am Lycaon! King of the Wolves. And I can give you a chance to be one of the most powerful demigods. You could destroy all of your enemies without so much as a flick of a wrist. Even the gods themselves would fear you."
Lycaon. Greek class in camp floated into Percy's mind. Something about Zeus turning him into a wolf after feeding him human meat. He wasn't too sure, but he was certainly interested in his offer.
"There has to be catch. There's always a catch." Percy said, cautiously, lowering his weapon even further.
He laughed, "Yes my boy, of course. You're smarter than you let on. The catch is simple. You spend your afterlife not in the underworld, but with your new brethren." He said grinning, gesturing to the other wolves that still surrounded him.
Percy looked at the wolves confused. They had shifted to a calmer demeanour, looking at him with more curiosity then anything. A few of them sniffed at the ground, while others seemed ready to attack him at any given moment.
"Brethren? The wolves? I don't understand." He told Lycaon.
"Let me help you understand, Jackson," he said while reaching behind him. His faced morphed into one of pain as he pulled out a silver vial and held it towards Percy. He scowled as his arm was outstretched towards him. The wolves seemed wary of the bottle, and recoiled slightly. They eyed it carefully, a few even running off into the dark woods.
"Take it! Hurry!" Lycaon growled, his face turning red.
Surprised, Percy held out his hand and he dropped the bottle into Percy's hands hastily. The moment it left his hands, the pain left left his face and all that was left was one of discomfort. He grinned toothily.
"Drink" Lycaon told him.
Percy gingerly uncapped the bottle, peering inside. The contents were red and thick. "What is this?" He questioned, glaring at Lycaon.
"Does it matter? It will make you more powerful than any demigod known. You will go down in history and the strongest half blood. You need only drink."
He was tempted. If he spoke true, then he might actually be strong enough to protect camp. Fight in this new war that Lycaon spoke of, and not lose anyone close to him.
Of course, he could easily be lying. It could be poison. Trying to eliminate the enemy before the war.
He peered into Lycaon's cat eyes. They seemed genuine enough. A rather big mistake on Percy's part.
He took a deep breath and lifted the bottle up to his lips. The liquid trickled into his mouth and down his throat. Lycaon grinned.
He brought the vial away from his mouth. It was bitter. The after-taste was vile.
At first nothing happened. He looked around at the wolves that surrounded him, then at Lycaon. He looked upon him with anticipation, as if he was waiting for something to happen.
Then his body went rigid. The vial fell from his hands. Unimaginable pain erupted through his body. He screamed into the night, tears falling from his eyes. His entire body burned as if he was drowning in the Styx.
He was poisoned. He had to be. And now he was going to die.
Lycaon simply laughed into the cold night air. "Let us welcome our new brother into the fold!" He shouted to the other wolves. They looked up towards the moon and howled in agreement.
Percy's body began to shift. His limbs began to elongate and become more muscled. Fangs replaced his teeth, his face morphed, a snout formed, replaced his nose. Claws protruded from his fingers, now paws and fur began to grow in all parts of his body.
"Welcome Perseus Jackson, my fellow lycanthropes!" He bellowed, laughing.
The werewolf ripped through the wolves that encompassed him and bolted off into the forest.
His mind was clouded with pain, an unimaginable hunger eating away at his stomach.
His sense of smell was tripled. His head twitched at the slightest crack of a twig, or sway of the leaves. He could hear for miles around.
He ran, weaving his way through the maze of trees, Lycaon's laughter still ringing through his ears. His life as a demigod was now over.