Author's note: Well, I'm not too experienced with writing Fanfiction…personally it's probably going to be a real big project for me! Hope I can get it done!
I DO NOT OWN PJO. BUT I DO OWN NICHOLAS!
Running.
Running as fast as I could from the shadows.
In hindsight, maybe I should've thought twice about traveling on a bus to New York City, but it was too late to think about that now.
All I had to think about was to run.
My legs were on fire, I was breathing like crazy, and I was starting to get a little dizzy, but the shadows kept on coming after me. I wanted to look back, but I knew that would slow me down.
As I kept on running, I felt grass as I started to transition into the camp area. I started to think I had hope! My luck wasn't going to run out this time!
My hopes and luck probably shattered like my foot when I tripped on a giant hole, and I slammed head first into the ground, and my foot wasn't spared either. I had probably twisted my ankle; the worst it could get is if it were broken…
My vision was getting foggy, I couldn't pay attention to anything except the shadows now slowly creeping up on me, as if mocking me with a slow, painful, and horrifying death, which I didn't know why was happening to me, I just knew it was happening to me right now…
Black lights danced across my eyes
A flash came and disappeared
I started to be lifted up by hands I couldn't see
My eyes started to droop; I really wanted to sleep...
A gruff voice asked me, "What is your name, son?"
"….Nicolas…"
Blackness.