Officer JJ Bittenbinder, the Cycop

Often times they'll tell you that they didn't want this:

That they didn't want to be a demigod.

They'll tell you to run-- That it's safer to be a mortal, living a normal life; As normal as you can get it, in fact.

This is simply a lie. A lie told so that people like you wouldn't pry into our world. Yes, while sometimes it's safer to try to be mortal, but that godly life will catch up one way or another. Or, in my case, when your mortal life isn't safe at all.

My troubles began more or less when my parents got divorced. I say parents, I mean my mom and my brother's father. As you can probably guess, I'm the demigod here. My brother isn't. His father is mortal, human and normal, and I'm the bastard child.

So my parents divorced when I was ten. Okay, no big deal. Fourty-one percent of marriages end in divorce, we know this. What made this suck is that my mom completely disappeared. She left and never returned. I never understood why, but i'd find out eventually. You will as well. I was left to be raised by a father that wasn't even my own father, but once again I had no idea. Neither did my brother. We were both dumbasses, and my dad was too drunk to realize I didn't look like him. I didn't share the same dark hair and blue eyes that he and my brother had. I took after my mom, who had long, curly red hair and auburn eyes that almost looked red in the sunlight. She was beautiful.

I'm getting off track. Back to my tragic backstory.

I mentioned earlier that my dad was an alcoholic. He's also an alcoholic Russian, which makes it ten times worse. Most of the time before the divorce he was too drunk to speak english, so I had no choice but to become fluent in Russian. So did my brother.

But hey, at least I'm getting in touch with my

cultural roots, right?

He was like that after the divorce, too. An angry, alcoholic Russian father.

You can see where I'm going with this, when I said my mortal life wasnt safe? Yeah, you're getting it. Good. I don't want to talk about that anymore than I need to.

The day I was introduced to this bullshit was a Thursday afternoon in autumn. It was cold enough for me to wear a hoodie, I had no idea it was the last time i'd wear the damn thing. I came home to three police cars and an ambulance parked in the street, a sight that I was expecting to see. I wasn't surprised at all, shockingly. Maybe I read too many books.

The crime scene tape stopped me from coming too far inside, I had to show my ID and family photos to prove I lived there. A police officer pulled me to the side of the house, and broke the news to me:

"Miss Pierce, I'm afraid to say that your father has passed away. Cardiac arrest." He spoke in a low tone, a comforting tone. He was so calm about it. I didn't know how to react. I knew this was coming, but what should I say? "Oh, I know, officer. He's an asshole alcoholic?"

Nope. Instead I broke down crying, as one would. I wasn't crying for the reason that the officer thought,though. I was simply too overwhelmed.

He's gone. Finally. I'm free; I'm safe.

I remember that's what was running through my mind.

Of all the things to happen to me in the past few years, from the divorce, to my best friends disappearing when I was thirteen, I didn't expect my dad to die. And I didnt expect to be so relieved about it.

After I calmed my tits, the officer began to ask me a few questions. The usual alibi (school), did my dad's family have a history of heart issues (yes), you know the drill. Now, I'm assuming you're here because you like this type of story. You've probably read a book or two. You know that this is where things get odd.

The officer's questions began to get more and more personal.

"Where's your mother?" He asked me, and I had stuttered out:

"Eh?" I perk up. "left. A-A while ago, sir." (Note- you notice my inner dialogue is a lot more confident than I actually am. Get used to this, I'm not the most socially adept.)

"Why do you look nothing like the males in your family?"

"I-I don't know, sir." By this point I grew so uncomfortable I had to put space between the officer and I. I was standing with my back against the side of the house, my feet nervously digging into the mulch. I fiddled with my hoodie sleeves.

"Are you aware that your father isn't your real father?"

Well boy fucking howdy, that was news to me, officer JJ Bittenbinder. I look up, my eyes widening a bit. "Eh?" I pushed up my glasses to look at his face better, and that was the worst decision I ever made. I noticed things about him, things that werent there before. His eyes are a bit too close together, his brow bone a bit too prominent. His bottom jaw jutted out a bit more. He basically looked like an orc. I felt like any second he was going to say "now I don't want to see you treat any of these books poorly." Or some shit like that.

I, being the pushover I was, could only stand there with my mouth slightly agape. The poor lad could probably see the bits of black lipstick in my teeth, or how red my tongue was from my cherry pushpop from lunch.

The officer leans forward.

"Answer. Me."

I inhale, my voice not working. I let out the softest "no, sir." I've ever said. I could almost see my father in him. The officer's eyes shared the same piercing blue my father's had.

The more I looked at him the more he began to change. I could see his lower incisors jutting out from his lip, and he had grown exceptionally tall and buff in the interaction. His eyes were so close together I could see that they were actually merging into one eye. His voice had gotten deeper, and his officer uniform was exceptionally small. I wanted to run. I wanted to run so badly, but for whatever reason, my fight or flight wasnt working. I couldn't move. I should be scrambling to safety right now, how is no one seeing this police officer turn into a fucking Cyclops???

"Your father isn't your real father, Alioluna." His words made my heart drop to my stomach, the color drained from my face. No one knows my legal name, they'd have to look it up. My dad isn't my real dad? Fuck that, he never treated me like a daughter anyway.

"Wh-whwhat.." I couldn't speak coherently at this point, I was panicking too much. A full on Cyclops is playing Maury, telling me that my dad isn't my dad. This is around the time my body decided to start working again, and I broke off into a sprint. I couldn't, however, get two steps in, because mr. One Eyed freak over here decided to grab me by my hoodie. This not only choked me a bit, which if it weren't for the situation I would have enjoyed, but also triggered what the kids call PTSD. I could only let out a quiet yelp as I was pretty much thrown into a bush.

This cycop dude pulled out a club, from out of nowhere, saying something along the lines of "your father is a God, Alioluna!" But... I was too scared and disoriented to even care about that. I had enough intelligence in me to grab a steak light from the ground, and use it as a weapon. I held it out as a warning, squinting. I didn't even register my glasses were somewhere other than my face.

Mr. Cycop raised his club to bash my brains in, everything was happening in slow motion at this point. I raised my steak to block, maybe stab his ankle, but I didn't get a chance. An arrow pierced his ugly ass head, and his club was tugged away via a ball with a long string.

It took me a second, I didnt even register that a Cycop was disarmed with poi. I watched in shock as the Cycop dropped to the ground from the brain impalement, then was shot again in the eye for good measure. I look in the direction of where the arrows were coming from, which was behind me, and I saw a sight I thought I would never see.

"E-eh??"

Oliver and Will Nelson, my friends who went missing three years ago.

My jaw dropped, and I scrambled up. My legs trembled, and I was just... In awe. Everything began to register as the Cycop turned to a golden dust. Is this a concussion? What happened.

"O-Oliver.. Will?" I asked quietly as the two run towards me, enveloping me in a well needed hug. It was only then that I realized how much I missed these two. I missed Will's colorful faux dreadlocks, Oliver's electric blue hair. I missed them.

"Hey, Luna." Oliver whispered in my ear. I could feel the grin in their voice. They pull away as Will does.

"I know it's been a while, but we need to get going. Pack light, we'll answer questions on the highway." Will ushers me along, her hands warm on the small of my back as she guides me into my own home.

"Wh..wait why do I need to pack?" I ask, looking up at her. She's taller. In her twenties now. She smiles reassuringly.

"You're a demigod to put it simply, and we're taking you to a safer place. It'll be okay, just go upstairs and pack. We'll get coffee on the way there."

Coffee... God I needed some. I nodded, then ran upstairs. I packed a bags worth of belongings, which meant clothes, hygiene stuff, and one thing I've always wanted. I creeped into my dad's old room, and pulled out his walkman from the closet with a soft smile. My mom made me a mixtape on a cassette, and I can listen to it now. I shove that in my bag with my headphones, and head back downstairs. The siblings are waiting for me on the couch, oliver sitting on the back of it.

"Ready? Oh when did you learn how to skateboard?" They look at the skateboard tucked under my arm.

"A while ago... Can- can we leave?" I ask. Will hands me my glasses, good as new.

"Of course. Let's go." She smiles once again. I smile back softly as we all pile into her red convertible.

And away we went.