This was a random one shot that popped into my head. I was thinking about war and how in fight scenes the world seems to fade out around the hero and they only focus on their own actions not noticing those around them. Hope you like it.
"Only in death will we have our names since only in death are we no longer part of the effort. In death we become heroes." ~Chuck Palahniuk
Golden rays of the sun caress the morning sand of the beach. A black haired boy sits upon the sands caught up in him self. He's been rather down since the war. This is two weeks after and I know him. I should remember him. He is after all the reason I am where I am. I'm stuck. I can't get out. Trapped, its how I've always felt.
I can't leave behind everything to start a new, not since I left Tennessee. Trapped in this camp they called a safe haven for my kind, it's boggling to the mind. The last time I felt free was when I was on the stage at age twelve. Forced to leave my home and heaven I came to Manhattan. Pollution dominated the once pure air around me, and I believed as soon as I stepped off that muggy bus that I would never leave. How right I was to fear the belief.
I never was able to leave Manhattan. The war against the titans started to round its way into existence and campers were always disappearing. It was my job to keep track of who went in and who went out of camp. The one person I never was able to keep track of was that black haired boy that I watched now.
He was quiet in a sense that screamed for your attention. He had a few friends that he always stuck to. He had many enemies including a god or two. But, no matter where he went and how careful he was he ended up on the T.V. for something he simply didn't mean for to happen. The mist protected most demigods, but something about this boy seemed to get him in trouble no matter the protection he had been provided.
He was clearly in love as well. I didn't have to be a daughter of Aphrodite to see that. He would never admit it. His first kiss was kept secret behind the tears that followed the moment that was supposed to be bliss. The girl had returned to camp in quiet sobs withholding hysterics, but not wanting to lose that of a heart she had just gained. A ceremony had been prepared and she had given a great epilogue for his passing and he appeared again as if he was meant to be a boomerang. He always returned.
I remember the day I finally realized his importance. I was standing back with my siblings watching in fear as the boy realized what was waiting across the bridge just over a quarter mile away.
"Now," he nearly whispered and we all strained to hear his words. "we pull back."
That seemed to set the army in motion as Kronos called his men into the fight. With swords high the troops charged in our direction. My siblings behind me had mustered up the sanity in the situation and began firing off volley after volley into the enemy lines. I watched as a boy mounted upon a skeletal horse was hit in the kink of his army and was knocked to the ground. He was yet to be dead, but the rest didn't seem to care as the horse trampled over his pain writhing body.
I gasped at the sight and ran forward mindlessly. The pounding of blood in my ears blocked out any call from the people behind me to retreat. Percy turned and yelled at the campers behind him. Though I couldn't hear the actual sound of his voice I read his lips.
"Retreat!" He bellowed back to us and I almost stopped, but then continued. "I'll hold them!" He continued. He didn't even notice my approach. I was either unimportant he was caught up in the moment like everyone else was.
The monsters and demigods seemed to appear around us shouting at us. I won't repeat their words for they were that of which would wound you eternally. And I think they did, I would remember those insults for the rest of my life. Percy began to swing and I watched his expertise.
Somehow, I was rounded in closer to him. The monster seemed to tighten their swirling pushing me closer to his blade. I had no where to go. I took the dagger I kept on my belt and began to slash at those I could reach. One demigod seemed to have it out for me as he popped out from the tight circular cage they had trapped me in with the swordsman. He shoved me backwards.
I felt as if my soul was being ripped from me. The cold celestial bronze of none other then Riptide ripped through my flesh and I fell to the ground. I could feel as the warm moist liquid slowly seeped through my clothing staining me with crimson blood. Tears began to fall, but I didn't let out a cry for help. I knew there were others who were more important in this battle. My vision grew fuzzy with the loss of blood. My world slowly went dark and my body released all the tensions it had been withholding. The boy who had killed me didn't even notice that he killed me.
So, as I watch this boy on the beach I realize I only truly knew this boy as one thing. This sixteen year-old boy saved the world and killed many in the process. I can tell the souls I meet in the Underworld that, yes, I know Perseus T. Jackson. They may ask 'how?' and I will answer with the simple words, "He is my killer."
- Mellisa Wrider, daughter of Apollo.