ARABELLA

She wasn't sure for how long she'd been travelling. Keeping track of time wasn't exactly something she was good at in the first place, and it just wasn't something you'd be doing if you were running across the US from what seemed like immortal giant freaks.
She was only 13 - an age you'd associate with complaining about homework and going to sleepovers and gossiping about all the stupid people at school, not fighting for your life with some great big bullies who just wouldn't. But surprisingly, this wasn't so, well, unusual or new to her. I mean, sure, she had never fought ugly snake ladies with tree branches at 3am in local parks before, but she'd been through a lot.

She didn't know where she was, or what day it was. She thought she'd seen a sign up saying 'New York' a day back (or was it more?), but she didn't have time to study it further - she was running from a group from what seemed like giant men with bull heads. Arabella thought they looked a lot like minotaurs, a Greek myth she read about a few years back. In fact she'd noticed a lot of these..things she'd been running from looked suspiciously like Greek myths. She'd always had interest towards ancient mythology - Greek and Egyptian. She didn't fancy Roman much, she felt like the lazy Romans just stole the Greeks' stories and renamed the gods (which is basically what happened, right?).

She snapped back to reality and looked around her - she was on a highway, but there was not a single car in sight. The night sky above her was scattered with millions of stars. Strange. She was sure New York was a highly polluted state, and yet the sky had no signs of clouds.

Her peaceful thoughts, not something she'd had since she left home, were suddenly interrupted by a loud lazy grunt. She was used to unexpected attacks. Slowly, she reached for her knife (a rusty old thing she found in a smelly garbage bag back in Ohlo), knowing sudden movements angered the dumb beasts. She spun around and stabbed at the air in front of her, yelling. Except there was nothing there.

"Woah, calm down, girl," an old man's grumpy voice said right next to her.

"What? Where-" she spun around to the source of the voice, meeting face-to-face with a little man with a goatee and a bald spot. She stepped back, aware she probably didn't smell that great. The guy was wearing a bright orange t-shirt with words she couldn't decipher in the dark, worn out jeans and a pair of trainers which looked way too big for him.

"What? Why are you staring? I know I'm handsome, but come on, we need to get you to Camp safe. It's a surprise you're alive, girl, surviving a journey through half the US states alone, chased by monsters? Well, I would but-"

"What? How do you know I've been on the run? Why am I being chased? And who are you? Why are your shoes so big-"

"Gods, monsters sense demigods, and satyrs. Now, do you want to die knowing you'd travelled half the US and got killed by some smelly," he wrinkled his nose, "monster a mile from Camp? No, and I don't want to get sacked my Mr. D. Now let's go."

He turned and stomped away down the highway. The dude was weird alright, but something made Arabella feel safe around him, almost sane. Maybe the fact that this crazy man knew of the things that have been attacking her, something people around her didn't seem to even see, made her feel normal. She wanted to ask him more - gods? Satyrs? She remembered what she'd read about them in books - half-goat, half-man beings, followers of Pan? Weren't they just myths? Well, she knew now monsters were real, why not satyrs? Wait, didn't this old guy basically say-

A low grunt came from behind them, and something told her it wasn't another hopefully harmless guy with big shoes and a large belly. The grunt was followed by a long growl, like one of those huge mastiff dogs would make if you were stupid enough to take their lunch away. She remembered meeting one of these puppies in…Illinois? She turned and lunged.

"Get back!" she managed to yell, whilst avoiding the huge dog's massive teeth. And stabbing at anything fur-covered she could.
She expected the guy to run, yell, do anything but what he actually did.

"Get back?! Are you stupid, girl?! I was born for this, baby! Oh yeah! DIE!" the crazy guy yelled before smashing into the great wall of fur with a baseball bat Arabella somehow hadn't noticed before.
She felt confused, and a little impressed - this guy actually seemed to enjoy nearly dying. She lowered her blade, trying to process all her thoughts (and there were many), not realising showing anything near hesitation in front of monsters basically meant death. The hound slashed at her - his teeth sank in her shoulder. She yelped in pain. Something sticky was crawling over the inside of her shirt - unmistakable blood. She tried to focus on the scene in front of her - a very angry short man hitting a much larger dog with a baseball bat, but she felt herself losing consciousness. Her legs felt like jelly, wobbling under her weight. Moments later she was sprawled across the same road on which only minutes before she was admiring the beautiful, terrifying but beautiful world she lived in.