WARNINGS: contains light cursing and gay guys. Later on there will be some guy-on-guy, yaoi, BL, whatever you wanna call it. Don't like don't read~

Seven half-bloods shall answer the call

To storm or fire, the world must fall

An oath to keep with a final breath,

And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death

It was another Great Prophecy, spoken by the great Oracle of Delphi herself. I normally didn't want much to do with prophecies, or really any kind of fortune-related thing; but since according to Apollo I was the first of these seven half-bloods, so I didn't have much choice.

Naturally, I was confused at first; I wasn't even sure I qualified as a real half-blood. No, I was a genetic experiment, not a demigod.

But the prophecy had said half-blood and not demigod, which, technically speaking, was correct; half of my DNA was human, and the other half was the DNA that the Gods – specifically Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades - had genetically created. So, if I wanted to be a total smartass, then I could be one of the seven half-bloods.

And, being part of this 'Great Prophecy', I got to go hunt down the other six.

Wonderful.

I hardly ever left Olympus anymore, so I wasn't too comfortable in the mortal world. I could get around, yes, and I fit in enough; I just didn't like it. They were so naïve and blind, acting as if the world was perfect and they never had to worry about anything.

In some ways, my world was like that; from the time I was a baby human injected with my Godly DNA, I'd been trained by various deities and never had many cares. I was never trained by the Gods themselves – no, they had much more to worry about than some experiment they'd poured half a decade into. It was usually minor Gods or heroes or nymphs, or anyone who had enough spare time for some lowly test subject itching for some information.

I'd first been trained in using the abilities given to me by Zeus, Hades and Poseidon. From Zeus I can produce weak zaps of electricity; not enough to kill anyone, but enough to shake them up or power a light bulb for a few minutes. From Hades I can speak to the dead and more or less control them; they take my commands into consideration, but I don't have full control of them, not really. And Poseidon lets me breath underwater. I can very vaguely control it – I can power a water gun and blow up a sprinkler, at least, which gets me into trouble from time to time.

But that was just another thing that set me apart from mortals. I couldn't be considered mortal or immortal; human or demigod. No one knew what to call me.

So they just started calling me Alejandro.

Why, I have no idea, but it's probably due to the fact that I look to be slightly Mexican, and that is apparently a Mexican name. According to my creation records, the human who's DNA I have was from New Mexico, with original roots in the very country to the south.

I didn't have much else of a name – just Alejandro, most of the time. A lot of nymphs I met seemed to think I was the 'strong and silent' type. I always disagreed that, no, I'm not really that silent and I'm certainly not that strong. But they said it was the way I kept to myself; I was mysterious, and girls like that for some reason.

Honestly, I was never a lady's man. A couple girls said I might be gay, the mortal word for a guy who likes guys.

I didn't know. Romance never interested me.

And that was all the more reason not to get involved with this prophecy; where there were mortals there was mortal emotions, which caused drama. Drama was one of my least favorite things. Despite my own emotions, I did not cause drama.

"Hey, Alejandro!" he heard a familiar voice call. Apollo was walking towards him, basking in the attention he was getting from the female passerbys.

"Yes, Apollo?" I replied, not really in the mood for him to be making horrible haikus and playing sappy music.

"I hope you're ready!" he exclaimed. "'Cause the prophecy is now! And you start it all."

After a moment, I realized it was a haiku. "No, I'd really rather not get involved in all this, thanks."

"Well that sucks for you! You're the leader in this thing! So don't let me down!" the God exclaimed, flashing a million dollar smile. It was yet another haiku.

"Be ready by morning. Here's the list of demigods. I'll be waiting, 'kay?" he said as he jogged away. I facepalmed at the fact that, as of late, he didn't seem to speak in anything other than freaking haikus.

I looked at the small scrap of paper he'd shoved into my hands. The first thing that struck me was that the names weren't in alphabetical order.

In a sudden rage of OCD-ness, I pulled out a pencil and quickly re-wrote the names in alphabetical order. I took a deep breath, and then re-read the list.

-Aleksandr Braginski (Alaska)

-Austin Jones (Texas)

-Hayden Soloman (Arizona)

-Liam Bonnefoy (Utah)

-Michelangelo "Ryker" Fernandez (Nevada)

-Sierra Carriedo (Colorado)

They were arranged by first name, as last names had never appealed much to me – I didn't even have one of my own. The state they were from was also listed, but no city or additional information seemed to be present.

"Just wonderful," I mumbled. "I have to go all across the freaking country… and Alaska. That's the last place I want to be… the land beyond the gods… what's a demigod doing there?"

I began wondering what I was supposed to do with these demigods once I found them. I supposed bringing them back to Camp Half-Blood would be a good a start as any; at least they could train there. And since most half-bloods had no idea the Gods had ever done any kind of genetic experimentation (cough cough, me) I could fit in as a normal mortal. That could actually be sort of fun.

With a sigh I started back to my room. I would need to pack a few things if I was going to do so much travelling.

When the next morning came, I felt awful. I got maybe two hours of sleep, and they were filled with vivid and disturbing dreams of my journey. The most notable being in Alaska, where the demigod named Aleksandr turned out to be working against me and attacked me. I didn't even know what he looked like, but my mind had made incredibly scary images.

The other bad one was being in Colorado to find the girl, Sierra, and being buried alive by an avalanche and being unable to use any of my powers.

With a heavy sigh I slung my bag over my shoulder. It was just an old backpack, but it was special to me; I'd gotten it after my first trip to the mortal world to a place called Roswell, New Mexico. I'd instantly become fascinated by the mortals' idea of 'aliens', and had bought multiple souvenirs. I even had a dream about being abducted by the aliens, though it seemed awfully vivid, even for one of my dreams.

In the bag I had the essentials: extra clothes, toothbrush, ambrosia, nectar, bag of Drachmas, some rope, my ray gun, an extra sword, an iPad (anyone who was anyone on Olympus had them), and a ridiculously large supply of Little Debby cinnamon coffee cake snacks. Why snack cakes, you ask? Well it's certainly not because I enjoy eating them. You see, when the Gods were screwing with my DNA, they didn't get it quite perfect – meaning I've got a couple defects. One of those defects is that every time I use my powers, I need unhealthy amounts of cinnamon to re-charge me, though sugar also works. I can't believe I'm not dead yet.

I made my way down to the elevator, where Apollo was supposed to be waiting to give me details on my 'mission'.

And, unfortunately, he was there.

"Hey, Alejandro!" he greeted, waving with a bright smile. "Good to see that you're ready! Want some more details?"

I grit my teeth. "Please stop speaking in stupid haikus and give me non-poetic details."

He frowned. "But I can't do that! I am the God of haikus! It's like, my duty!"

I reached into my bag and pulled out an alien-style ray gun (another souvenir from New Mexico) and pointed it at him. It didn't look very deadly; it was just a cheap piece of plastic from a gift shop. But I'd been poking at it for a while, and I'd eventually modified it to where I could use it to shoot lightning, water, and creepy black smoke.

"Alright, fine, good Gods. I'll stop talking in haikus," Apollo mumbled, his smile fading. "You're in a bad mood."

At least he's making an effort, I thought to myself.

"No, I just really want to get this stupid thing over with," I replied simply, twirling the ray gun in my hands. "I never wanted anything to do with this prophecy to begin with."

"Your attitude's bad," he commented. "But you still have to do it. Well, let's get going."

Without further complaint I followed him into the elevator. It would take us down to the ground floor of the Empire State Building, but not without terrible music. In this case, I was tortured by the fact that it was Stayin' Alive by the Beegees. Apollo, however, was simply loving it – singing along, doing some way-out-of-style disco moves, all that.

"Alright, will you please tell me the details of this mission now?" I asked. The song ended and the God looked at me.

"Well of course I will! It's really very simple: bring them back to camp!" he exclaimed. His cheery attitude was suddenly dampened by the fact that the elevator music turned to Mozart, and not more disco.

"How do I find them and get them there?"

"Um… well… you just… do," he replied, scratching his head. "You just do what mortals do. Don't want to stick out."

"Right… what mortals do…" I mumbled, trying to make sense of it. "So should I take a plane, or…?"

"Not with all of them. See, some of them hate flying. You'll figure it out," Apollo assured. Before I could respond, we were on the ground floor of the Empire State Building.

"Alright then, see you later, Apollo," I said, stepping out of the elevator.

"Alejandro, wait!" he called, running after me. "You'll want this in the cities. It's not much, but, still."

He pressed a huge wad of mortal cash into my hands. My eyes widened.

"What's this for?" I asked.

"Food, cabs, hotels, and…" he paused, and lowered his voice as if anyone else was around to hear. "A good bribe goes a long way. Get what I'm sayin'?"

I nodded. "Thanks. I'll let you know if I die or anything."

As I stepped onto the streets of New York, I suppressed a sigh. I had never liked cities for a number of reasons: the pollution, the business, the incredibly rude mortals, and the traffic. Oh Gods, the traffic…

With a heavy sigh I slung my bag over my shoulder and pocketed the money. I walked down the street for a moment, trying to decide on my next course of action. I could go straight to Alaska, get the first guy, and then go on down the list… but, somehow, the idea of going to the Land Beyond the Gods was extremely unappealing. I decided it would be much easier to save him for last, once I had all the other demigods with me.

"Texas…" I mumbled. "Naturally, it had to be my least favorite state in the country…"

I did my best cab whistle and told the driver to take me to the airport. It was a fairly quick ride – no longer than half an hour – but it cost me a fortune. Then again, I had a fortune and then some in my pocket, so I didn't let it bother me.

Once at the airport, I enquired about the soonest flight leaving for Austin, Texas. It made sense that I would fly there; the guy's name was Austin and he lived in Texas. The clerk said, yes, but it didn't leave until the next morning. With a fake smile I paid for a ticket and left. I'd need a place to stay while until my flight, and there were dozens of hotels surrounding the airport. I picked one that didn't look too fancy or too shabby and booked a room for a night. I was quite amazed they let a minor such as myself book a room, to be honest; it seemed having partial-God powers came in handy.

Once in my room I pulled out my iPad and hooked up to their free Wi-Fi. I decided a little research into my demigods couldn't hurt a bit.

I started with Austin Jones, and found a record from some ritzy private school in an Austin suburb. It was a complete biography, with photo and fingerprint included.

Full name: Austin Joey Jones

Age: 16

Height: 6'0"

Bio: Born into a wealthy family, is an only child. Has attended private Catholic schools all his life, currently enrolled in St. Michael's. No known problems at home. Is very arrogant and tends to anger other students. Has an issue with cursing, leading some to believe that Catholic school is a punishment for bad behavior. Has no immediate plans for the future.

I read it a few times over, memorizing the information.

"Alright," I said aloud, "so the guy's an arrogant asshole who thinks he owns the world and needs some sense beat into him. I can help him with that."

I couldn't stop the slightly sadistic smile from gracing my lips. One thing I especially loved about mortals was their arrogance; their feeling of being high and mighty, as if they actually had a real purpose in the world. True, Austin wasn't mortal, and he actually did seem to have a purpose, but that wouldn't stop me from socking him in the face a few times.

I heard my stomach growling, and realized it had been all day since I'd eaten. Somehow, without my immediate knowledge, the time had gone from early morning to early evening. It was around six o'clock, and I was ravenous. I rummaged around the drawers for a room service menu. They had quite a selection, though it was, of course, ridiculously expensive. Not that I expected anything different.

I eventually decided on some Mexican food, one of my personal favorites among mortal food. I called down to the front desk and ordered some tamales with a side of re-fried beans and churros for desert. They said it would be up in around forty minutes, since all their food was made from scratch. I smiled widely; a hotel with authentic Mexican food? Maybe this trip wouldn't be so bad after all.

I decided that I'd take a nice, hot shower while I waited. I certainly must have smelled unpleasant, after walking around in the sun all day. I grabbed some shorts from my bag and fiddled with the shower until the water was the right temperature. After stepping in I simply let the water run over my head for nearly five minutes, as if it would wash any kind of thoughts from my mind.

After a long, indulging shampoo and full-body scrub, I unwillingly shut off the water. I wrapped a towel around my waist and wiped the fog off of the mirror. I rubbed my head with another towel, leaving my hair damp and curly. I quickly combed it down, though it still had a bit of a wave. I was pulling on my shorts when I heard a knock, with the announcement of "room service".

"Just a moment," I called before putting on my shorts and draping my towel around my neck. I opened the door and saw a girl, probably about my age, standing there with a cart full of covered trays.

"R-Room service," she squeaked, staring at my bare chest. I imagined how I must look to her; a 16-year-old guy, though I was often mistaken for a college student, shirtless, surprisingly toned chest, with wavy black hair, and color-changing eyes I took two steps to my wad of cash and pulled out the right amount.

"This is enough, right?" I asked with a smile, handing her the money. She nodded, face beet red, and handed me the tray. She started to fumble around with some change, but I held up my hand.

"You can keep the change," I insisted with another smile. Honestly, I wasn't smiling because I was trying to be nice; I was laughing because messing with mortals was so incredibly entertaining.

"O-Ok," she stuttered, taking the money with slightly shaking hands, her eyes still glued to my chest. She was just turning around to the cart when I closed the door. When I decided she was out of earshot I laughed.

"Oh, mortals are so fun to mess with," I chuckled, plopping down on the queen-sized bed with my meal. I grabbed the TV remote from the bedside table and began flipping through channels, waiting impatiently for my tamales to cool enough to be eaten. I eventually found myself on the History Channel, where an episode of the show Ancient Aliens was on.

This was one of the few things that made me laugh so hard I nearly wet myself the first time I watched it. Mortals just had to find some sort of alternate explanation for everything; Gods simply can't be real, oh no, they have to be aliens. This particular episode was about Ancient Greece, and how the Gods were obviously aliens. I found myself laughing so much I choked on my food.

"Oh, Gods," I mumbled. "One of these days, maybe they'll finally open their eyes and shoo the Mist away from their brains…"

After eating the rest of my incredibly delicious tamales, I settled down for sleep.

My dreams were unusually vivid again.

I held my ray gun in one hand, and several Little Debbie snack cake wrappers in the other. My energy was draining like air from a balloon, and my supply of sugary foods was also disappearing. Battle was raging all around me. The Camp Half-Blood shirt Apollo had provided me with was shredded, covered in blood, and on fire in a few places. It was a challenge to really observe my surroundings, considering the fact that my legs were being wrapped by stalks of wheat and I was being charged by several Cyclopes, but I could make out that there was snow on the ground.

After managing to slash through another Cyclops with a borrow sword, I finally took a good look around me. In addition to the snow, there were glaciers, trees, and a lot of blood. I took note of four other demigods fighting around me. One was taller than the rest, with hair and eyes both the color of dirt, wearing a light jacket with the sleeves rolled up and faded jeans. He wore gloves bearing long spikes on the knuckles, and his cowboy boots also had spikes on the toes and smaller ones underfoot.

I saw two fighting together, as if they'd done it together for years. One was shorter than the other. He had curly red hair and bright blue eyes. He wore a long-sleeved shirt under a green marshmallow vest, and zip-off shorts and very cold-looking sandals. He held a bow in his hand, and seemed to be pulling sparkling arrows out of nowhere. He hit his mark consistently, but the enemies were drawing nearer.

The other had brown hair that looked as if he'd tried to slick it down, but it still spiked up in the back. His eyes were a startling shade of gold, and they glinted with anger. He wore a black dress shirt and white slacks tucked into tall black boots. They all looked expensive, but they were all quite thoroughly ruined, much to his apparent dismay. He held what looked to be about half of a deck of cards, each a symbol other than the traditional four suits on them. Each time he held one up he'd chant a string of words, and then fling the card towards his target; it had a different effect depending on the card, ranging from an electric stun to melting into a puddle of golden liquid.

I then noticed that I was standing near the fourth person, who may not have been the tallest, but was certainly the most intimidating. He had the obvious look of a Native American, with dark skin and long black hair pulled into a braid. He wore a long black duster, which concealed whatever was underneath it. He swung a pair of twin swords like he'd been born for it, all the while his face remaining a nearly emotionless mask. His dark eyes occasionally flicked in my direction, and I found myself meeting them with a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach.

The battle continued for what was either ten minutes or ten years, it was hard to tell in a dream. But by the time I looked up from killing was had to be my tenth Cyclops, I saw two new enemies, and I instinctively knew who they were – the other two demigods from the prophecy.

I recognized Aleksandr, but the girl next to him I hadn't seen before. She had light brown hair in two braids, and one strange curl of hair that stuck up from the rest. She had her bangs held back with a red hairclip, but both the clip and her braids were coming undone. Her eyes were incredibly disturbing; the right one was a cool shade of blue, but the left was crimson red. They were both tinted with anger. She was smiling sadistically, twirling a pair of knives in her hands as if thinking about all the ways to kill you.

"This sure is more fun than walking around with you guys!" she exclaimed cheerily before hurling a knife at each one of the other demigods. I watched them fall, one by one, until a knife came soaring into my head.

I sat bolt upright, with the sound of the girl's cruelly cheerful laughter echoing in my mind. My heartbeat reminded me of a train, and it thudded in my ears. I felt my hands shaking and felt icy sweat on the back of my neck. I took deep breaths and turned to look at the clock.

It was four in the morning. I wanted to shoot someone.

"Why did I agree to this freaking thing…?" I growled under my breath, mentally cursing Apollo for forcing me into it. I rolled over, trying to calm myself. I'd never get back to sleep in the state I was in. I tried every method I knew; deep breaths, holding my breath, even turning on my iPad and listening to calming music. Nothing seemed to work. Each time I closed my eyes that girl's multi-colored ones were staring back at me. They were bright and alert, with a sort of twisted pleasure flickering between the other emotions of anger and sadness. Her laughter was frighteningly void of any emotion, like she was forcing herself to laugh. I wouldn't be surprised if she was.

And when I didn't see bright blue and red, I saw deep blue-violet. I had gotten my first real look at Aleksandr, but all I could remember were his eyes. They burned with a deep passion, whether it was anger or sadness I couldn't tell. I felt like I'd end up falling asleep forever if I stared too long. He terrified me more than anything I had seen thus far.

After half an hour of tossing and turning and trying desperately to empty my mind I gave up. I turned on the TV and began channel surfing, desperately trying to find something to take my mind off of everything.

I stopped on the History channel, where they were doing a segment on the American Midwest. I found that it was quite convenient, seeing as how that was where most of the demigods I had to collect were. As I munched on one of the pillow mints that had been left, a thought occurred to me.

Did these demigods even know they were demigods?

Would I have to take them to camp and get them claimed?

The thought hadn't even occurred to me.

"…How will I get them to New York?" I mumbled. At least one of them couldn't fly, though I had no idea who it was or why. I didn't even know how much money I'd have after flying around between the states before I found the one(s) who couldn't fly.

With a heavy sigh I heaved myself up and walked around the room a couple times to try and get my brain going. If I was going to be up this early, I was going to do something productive, I decided. I eventually decided to do some more research on the other demigods.

My iPad was fully charged. I turned it on and unlocked it, waiting for the internet to load. When it did load, I entered the name of the next one on the list – Hayden Soloman. Something about the name made my stomach flutter. I had a feeling that the dark-haired guy I'd fought with in my dream matched with the name.

He was from Flagstaff, Arizona, and was from a long line of Native Americans – though it didn't specify which tribe. He'd gone to public schools and was from a lower middle-class family, which consisted of his mother and grandmother. He had a younger brother named Dakota, but he had passed away the previous year.

Further investigation revealed that Hayden, at the age of only 16, was a drinker. He'd started after his brother's death, and the habit had only gotten worse. I found a bio from his therapist.

Full name: Hayden Soloman

Age: 16

Height: 5'9"

Bio: Lives with mother and grandmother. Brother passed away in 2011. Has been working to help his mother pay bills since age 12. Was very close with his brother, and began drinking after his death. Has never met his father. Also has chronic depression. Is very protective over his mother and grandmother. No plans for the future.

My curiosity increased with every line. Why would he start drinking over his brother's death? Even if they were close, it seemed a little extreme to start such a bad habit at such a young age. I wondered if maybe Hayden blamed himself, and that's why he drank.

No matter the reason, I was incredibly overcome with the urge to find him and comfort him.

Shaking off the strange feelings I kept getting, I entered the next name, Liam Bonnefoy. He lived in Salt Lake City, Utah. I couldn't find any kind of bio on him, but I did find a Facebook page.

His "About" gave me some insight. He'd never known his father, but his stepfather was Mormon. Supposedly he had multiple wives, but I was fairly certain that no one did that anymore. And for some reason, he was listed as being in 6 different relationships; all of them said "wife".

"…What the crap?" I mumbled to myself upon reading that. I wasn't even aware Facebook would let you be in multiple relationships. One of them, oddly enough, was Karen the Computer Wife from SpongeBob. I was questioning his sanity when the alarm I'd set went off.

Somehow, without my noticing, three hours had passed. It was 7 AM, and my flight left in three hours. I huffed in annoyance before nearly breaking the alarm clock and plugging my iPad back in. I quickly changed into clean clothes and brushed my teeth.

I was packed and ready to leave by 7:30. I grabbed my bag and walked down to the lobby, where free breakfast was being served. I helped myself to a slice of cinnamon toast and a miniature box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal. I munched on the toast as I checked out and paid the bill, receiving multiple strange looks from all the other employees in the lobby. They could tell I was a minor, but I was using my partially-God DNA to make at least my cashier think I was older.

As I walked out, I could see them whispering to each other, and I figured that leaving would be the best option. I didn't need the cops on my tail. They'd figure out soon enough that I hadn't really been 18.

With a new sense of urgency powering my strides, I hurried to the street where I called a cab. Once I pulled up, I told the driver to go to the airport. It was a woman, much to my surprise, and a fairly attractive one at that. She gave me a strange look, like she was analyzing me, but complied nonetheless. As we drove I continuously caught her staring at me in the rear view mirror, and she'd advert her eyes as soon as she realized I noticed. I wondered if she was checking me out, as mortals seemed to do.

After about twenty blocks, she pulled over. I noticed her eyes were glinting, despite the fact that we'd pulled into the shade of a building.

"Why did you stop?" I asked calmly, though a feeling of panic was slowly rising. My guts were churning, and her eyes felt like they were boring into my soul.

"Because I'm hungry," she stated. I could feel that my bag was still slung over my shoulder, so I made the best choice I could think of in a split second's notice – I kicked the door off the car and ran.

Kicking the door off was probably unnecessary, but it was kind of fun and the loud noise startled her. I sprinted down the sidewalk in the general direction of the airport, though hardly anyone spared me so much as a glance. I supposed stranger things had happened in the Big Apple than some kid breaking a taxi and running.

I looked over my shoulder when I was about a block away, but was surprised to see that she hadn't moved. Had I been overreacting? Was she just a normal human? Would the cops be on my tail for two things now?

Even if she wasn't chasing me, something about her gaze was so unsettling I kept running. I saw her pull out a cell phone and start dialing. She had to be calling the cops. She thought I was a lunatic.

After running three more blocks, my lungs felt like they were squeezing shut, and my legs were on fire. My shoes had come untied, and I could feel sweat on the back of my neck. Running had never been my strong suit, and this was beginning to get to me.

Before I could think about ducking into an alley to catch my breath, I tripped on my untied shoelaces. I planted face-first into the sidewalk, barely catching myself with my hands before my nose and forehead were severely scraped. My hands caught a few rocks, and my knees popped when they hit the ground.

"Di immortales!" I cursed loudly. I slowly sat up, trying to wipe the blood from my face. I sat there for a moment, waiting for some spectator to come over and ask if I was alright, but was acutely disappointed when no one did. I was about to be a little pissed, but I quickly noticed that the whole city block was deserted. There were no pedestrians, no cars, and even the shops were empty. The panicked feeling was rising in my chest again.

I reached into my bag and pulled out a square of ambrosia, chewing it up as quickly as I could. True, I wasn't hurt that badly, but my extra-godly DNA gave me slightly more tolerance to the food of the Gods than normal half-bloods.

The small cake tasted like tamales, and went down without a problem. I was instantly feeling better, even less fatigued, and was poised to run when I heard it.

Her laugh.

I couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from. I heard it from the rooftops, the alleys, even from the sewers. It was behind me, below me, in front of me – everywhere.

It was her laugh.

The laugh of that girl from Colorado; cruelly cheerful, but with just the slightest bit of pity, like she was almost sorry for the person she was about to kill. I panicked, and spun around multiple times. I walked slowly in a circle, trying to figure out exactly where the sound came from. I eventually concluded that I had hit my head a little too hard when I fell, and I was going crazy.

…Well, crazier.

As I started furiously shaking my head, I heard something else – heels clicking. I turned and saw my cab driver walking towards me, only there was something… different about her. Instead of normal legs sticking out of her shorts, she had a metal one and a… donkey leg? She smiled, showing unnaturally sharp teeth and glowing red eyes.

Was I terrified? Of course not – she was just a lady with shark teeth, glowing red eyes, and two different legs, after all. I reached to my belt and grabbed my ray gun in one hand and a small sword in the other. She strutted towards me, hands on her hips, looking like she could take on the world. And just when I thought she couldn't get freakier, bam, her hair's on fire.

"You're… an empousa, right?" I asked, pointing my sword at her. She made a hissing sound.

"Why did you not fall under my spell?" she demanded, looking furious. "No male mortal resists me!"

I scoffed. So when she'd been 'checking me out' in the taxi, she'd been trying to lure me into her spell. The thought of having artificial feelings planted in my mind meant to lead me to my doom was not pleasant, to say the least. When I really thought about having any kind of those feelings in my mind, it flashed to the face of the demigod from my dream. Though I wouldn't admit it, I was incredibly curious to find out why I'd been associating anything to do with romance with him.

"Sorry, but, I'm on hold," I said with a smirk before rushing her. I closed the gap between us in under a second, and began slashing at her head. However, she was expecting it, and jumped out of the way.

"Foolish fool! Your stupid sword and plastic toy can do nothing against my sisters!" she yelled.

"…Wait, what?" I exclaimed, spinning around. All around me, more empousa were closing in. But it wasn't just them – I saw a ton of different monsters; Hellhounds, Cyclopes, even a Hydra.

So she was calling them, I realized. Just freakin' wonderful.

With the realization that defeating all of these enemies would be next to impossible, even for me, I decided to just book it. I held up my Celestial Bronze sword and charged, slashing at anything that tried to stop me. The empousa were closing in, and they moved to fast to be immediately dissolved.

They were immediately on my tail, giving me no time to rest. I ran between two buildings, hoping I was still going in the direction of the airport. I felt multiple scratches on my back, shredding my shirt more and more – which was not cool, I'd really liked that shirt. I swung the sword behind my back each time I felt a scratch, nearly dislocating my arm the first time.

After ducking through alleys, climbing a fire escape and climbing through a window, I found myself in an apartment building. I stood in an apparently empty apartment, looking around frantically. I slammed and locked the window behind me before running out the door and into the hallway, also locking it.

I didn't see anyone immediately, but I knew it would be good to clean myself up before I got to the airport. I had a gut feeling I was really close to it, maybe even as close as a few blocks. I turned and knocked on the next apartment, but no one answered. I continued knocking until someone answered the door.

In the doorway stood a man, probably in his early twenties, with golden blonde hair and shining blue eyes. He had one piece of hair sticking up at an odd angle. He wore an American flag shirt and sweats, and squared glasses sat on the bridge of his nose.

His eyes widened as he looked me over. I could only wonder how bad I looked; my face was likely scraped in multiple places, I was dripping with sweat, my shirt was shredded, and I was covered in dirt.

"Dude…" the guy muttered, "what happened to you?"

"I-I'm sorry," I began in a pant, "but I can't explain. I just really need some bandages and a new shirt."

"Of course, man, come on it," the guy said, standing aside to let me in. I looked back down the hall, checking for any signs of my pursuers, and hurried inside.

"You may want to lock the door," I advised.

"Uh, okay," the guy said before clicking a series of locks. I looked around the small apartment. The carpet with a bland grey color, though it was dotted with stains. The living room was occupied by a large couch, coffee table piled with dishes, and one of the largest TVs I've ever seen in my life. Lined next to it was every video game system I'd ever heard of, and in the entertainment center the TV sat on there must have been hundreds of games.

"Sweet TV," I commented. He smiled broadly.

"I know, right? It's pretty awesome to watch football and play Halo on this thing. Oh, by the way, my name's Alfred," he introduced, sticking out his hand. I shook it.

"My name's Alejandro," I responded.

"Really? Sweet name, dude! Well, come with me to the bathroom and I'll get you some bandages. You can take a shower or something if you want."

"I don't have time for that; I need to catch a flight."

He shrugged and opened the door to the bathroom. It was surprisingly cleaner than the living room.

"Medical stuff is in that cabinet, I'll go find you a shirt," Alfred said before disappearing down the hall. I poked around until I found some bandages. I washed the blood and dirt off my face and applied the bandages on the cuts before pulling ambrosia and nectar out of my bag. I couldn't just let this guy see me fully healed; it would be too suspicious. At least the bandages made it look like I was still hurt.

I took a swig of nectar, and exhaled in relief. Warmth extended throughout my body, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation. I also took a bite of ambrosia, which left me feeling good as new. The cuts were either totally healed or at least a lot better.

"I dunno if this shirt will fit, it might be too big," Alfred was saying as he walked back in. "Whoa, dude, you look way better!"

"Uh, yeah, I washed up a bit," I commented. He handed me a black shirt with an alien head on it that read ROSWELL, NEW MEXICO. I smiled broadly.

"This is an awesome shirt," I complimented.

"Really? Dude, I love aliens! I totally met one once – his name was Tony – but no one believes me! I go to Roswell all the time, it's like my second home!" he exclaimed.

"I've been there a few times myself," I replied. "I had a weird dream about being abducted by aliens, too – it was cool."

Alfred continued to talk excitedly about aliens, but I had sort of spaced out as I pulled off my shirt and accepted the one he handed to me. I turned around to put it on, and he gasped as he saw my back.

"Dude – you have some nasty cuts down your back!" he yelled suddenly, walking forward to gingerly touch one. I sucked in as sharp breath.

"That kind of hurts," I hissed.

"Hold on man, I'll be the hero!" Alfred insisted, grabbing some bandages and applying them quickly. I tried not to sigh or roll my eyes as he did so, and took another sip of nectar. If the cuts were healing themselves, the 'hero' wasn't making any indication. I frowned; they must've been worse than I'd originally thought. I decided to give it some time before I consumed any more food of the Gods; spontaneously combusting wasn't very high on my to-do list.

"Alright man, you're ready to go!" Alfred proclaimed once he was done with the bandages. I could feel that there were way more than necessary, but didn't say anything.

"Thanks, Alfred," I said before putting on his shirt. "You sure it's ok for me to keep this? I won't be able to get it back to you."

"Dude, I have like five of that shirt; it's totally cool," he reassured. "And anyway, I figured it would math your backpack!"

I looked to the backpack I'd set on the floor, and realized he was right. I smiled.

"Yeah, I guess it does."

Alfred looked like he was going to say something, but he was interrupted by a pounding at the door. I paled.

"I need to leave. Like, now," I whispered.

Alfred laughed. "Don't worry, dude! I'll lead whatever is chasing you off your trail!"

"No, it's better if I just lead them away. They're not… normal."

"Well, in the case, there's another way out," he said. Apparently there was a door joining the apartment next door – which didn't seem very secure – but it was unlocked. Alfred said this was because he knew the man next door, and they hung out often.

"Hey, Artie!" he opened the door and yelled. "My friend needs to run through your room real quick, he's being chased by some stuff!"

A man with a British accent yelled something in response I couldn't quite make out.

"Kay dude, you can go, but you better hurry! The pounding at the door is getting louder!" Alfred insisted, pushing me through the door into the joined room. Its cleanliness was at least five levels above that of Alfred's apartment, and it had a strange scent… something burnt, maybe?

I called a hurried thank you to Alfred and his friend before running into the hallway. The herd of monsters banging on the door looked to me, made various battle cries, and started towards me. I bolted down the hall and into the stairwell. I didn't have time for actually walking down the stairs, so I sat down on the railing and let myself slide. I'd done this on the huge, fancy staircases in Olympus for years, so a small mortal railing was no problem.

I was down three stories in thirty seconds, before half of the clumsy monsters could even fall down the stairs. I threw the door open and ran into the streets, where the airport was in my line of sights. It was approximately two blocks away. I felt like singing.

I knew that slowing my pace, however, would be stupid; they'd just catch me faster, especially with security to go through.

So I continued sprinting until I reached the doors, which opened automatically for me – so kind of them. I scanned the building, and suddenly realized I had no idea where to go. I pulled my ticket from my pocket – which was now slightly rumpled – and read until I found my terminal. I headed in that direction, weaving through the crowds of people. When I finally made it to the security checkpoint, I was horrified to see a line of at least a hundred people. Apparently I had a popular flight.

With a frustrated groan, I made my way up to the line. Unfortunately for me, I had only moved a few feet when the monsters busted into the airport.

I briefly wondered what the mortals saw. Crazy tourists? A giant dog? A normal day in a New York City airport?

Most likely all of the above.

With a hissed curse, I crouched down a little, trying to stay out of sight. In retrospect, I knew they could smell me, and that hiding was virtually useless. But I'd been swallowed by a sea of people, so at least it would slow them down. I could see that getting through this line would take at least fifteen minutes – time I simply didn't have.

With a sharp inhale, I focused my energy on manipulating the Mist. I tried to make it to where the mortals thought they needed to move out of the way, though they all had different reasons. The crowd slowly parted, and I pushed by the last few people. The security guards didn't protest, so I went through the normal procedures. Shoes off, bag in bin, any metal items out.

Through an immense amount of concentration, I managed to make my sword appear as a wooden practice sword. It got some looks, but overall, made it through. As soon as the empousa went through the security gate, however, alarms started blaring. Her metal leg was causing an uproar, and they wouldn't let her or anyone else through. Taking advantage of this, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and sprinted for my gate.

Boarding was just starting as I got there – lucky me. I was about to get a place in line when I heard crashes and screams behind me.

The monsters had gotten through.

I drew my sword and faced them. As they attacked and I defended, I slowly backed up towards the plane. I kicked a Cyclopes back, and as it was regrouping, I handed the lady my ticket. She verified me to go through and I ran through the just about to close doors, and told the people to close them

With alarmed look, they did, and I eventually found my seat. I was breathing heavily and still holding my sword. I looked next to me and saw an older man with curly brown hair, just smiling and laughing like he'd seen weirder. I stared at him for a moment before putting away my sword and buckling my seatbelt.

As the plane took off, I could hear thunder rumbling, and I sent a mental warning to Zeus – if he blew me up, he'd blow up one of the most valuable research items to the Gods. So, at least in theory, he was safe.

With a shaky breath I looked down at myself; I was a mess. The nice, new shirt Alfred had given me was already sticky from sweat, and I no doubt smelled terrible; at least I'd worn deodorant. It was ripped and dirty in addition, and my hair was crumpled and sweaty.

All in all, I looked like I'd just been running for my life.

Then again, what did I expect from this sort of quest?

Well, now that I've written nearly 20 pages for one chapter, I suppose I'm satisfied~

WELCOME, and thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to read this! If you didn't notice, I tend to write VERY long chapters, and it kind of drones on and on. Terribly sorry about that~

And for anyone who knows the wonderful world of anime, more specifically Axis Powers Hetalia: the characters in this story are actually the state characters created by me and my friend Kaytlin. Alejandro is New Mexico, and you can guess the others by which state they're from. And anyone who caught the Hetalia reference with America and England (and the implied USUK) gets a free cookie~

I TAKE FOREVER TO UPDATE. Just putting it out there.

Please review and have a nice day~!