Hey everyone,

If you haven't already, please vote on my poll to see who Percy gets to "meet." Thanks for the reviews and private messages. They really help me to understand what you guys want. I won't be able to grant the wishes for every single reader, so in advance, I apologize for any inconveniences that may occur in the future. I also apologize for any grammatical errors in the following story.

Thank you to those who reviewed:

Dr Skiller, Maneden, ArcticTempest, Shadow-God-Time-Hunt-Ice-Tide, BookLuver102, sstabeler, ASSASSIN OF ARTEMIS, wyvern97, Maylona. , Bartimaeus12, Bradd (guest), [A guest], GrayTheBlueJay, DeathmatchDrunkard, bluelotus1670, BarcaFan, and jesse1212.

With best regards,
SharkAttack719

Percy 2

The Calling of the Sea

Waking up the next morning, I expected it all just to be one of my crazy nightmares. That's why when I woke up in an alley, I screamed like a little girl.

The images of my mother's death flashed in my eyes once again and I grabbed my head. I shut my eyes to get rid of the horrifying experience that had happened the day before, but it only made it worse.

Go, Percy. I love you. I'll always be in your heart. Right here, my mom said.

But when I looked down to my chest, I saw nothing. I closed my eyes and thought about my mom, but I felt nothing. The only sounds I could hear were the sounds of cars driving past, birds chirping and the quiet humming of people around the neighborhood.

The tears threatened to well up in my eyes again. Crying makes you strong, my mom would always say. Those who don't cry are heartless, and are bad people.

And so, following my mom's advice, I wept once again in the back alley of a random neighborhood in Brooklyn.

After five more minutes of reminiscing and tearing up, I started to compose myself. I'm Poseidon's son, I thought to myself. He's one of the Big Three. I can survive.

I looked up from my lap and to my surprise, there was a small duffel bag sitting there with a sign labelled: PERCY JACKSON.

Curious to see what it was, I slowly unzipped the bag. Inside of the bag were two neatly folded and cleaned sets of clothes, bottles of water and something that looked like apple juice, and cubes of...pudding?

I took an intake of breath and smelled a faint but familiar smell. It reminded me of beaches and the salty ocean air. There was also the smell of coral and fish. Don't ask me how I knew that. It probably came with being Poseidon's son. Then I realized that Poseidon had sent me this package.

There was a small note placed behind one of the bottles of water. I picked it up and tried to read it. At first, I scrunched my face up because it looked Greek to me. I didn't know Greek. Plus my dyslexia probably messed up the words. After a few more seconds of staring at Greek letters, they started shimmering. Intrigued by this change of events, I didn't throw it away. As the letters hazily came back into my vision, I gasped. They miraculously turned to English letters...that I could actually read.

Hello Percy,

I am sorry I have not made contact in these past years. It is all because of Zeus, who had created an ancient law forbidding gods from ever having contact with their children directly. I am sorry that I could not protect your mother. I truly am. If I could, I would bring you down to my palace with me, but Amphitrite and Triton are understandably furious at me for siring you. I will help guide you along, Percy. I will always be there for you, even if it seems like I am not.

Poseidon

I looked down at the small supply of items that my father gave to me. I was puzzled as to why my dad gave me apple juice and cubed pudding, but any food was okay.

I snapped my head up and watched for a few seconds to see if anybody would be passing by this alley anytime soon. There was no one, so I stripped down and changed into the new clothing my father gave me.

I pulled the dirty blue t-shirt that I was wearing off and put on the sea-green t-shirts that my father supplied me with. Then, I slipped off my pants and put on the faded blue jeans that were supplied. Over top of my t-shirt, I slipped on a full-zip black fleece hoodie.

I dusted myself over and looked down. I definitely look...different, I thought. A gut feeling in my stomach told me to move. I wasn't exactly sure where, but I just walked. I slung the small duffel bag across my shoulders and walked out of the dirty alley.

As I walked, I couldn't help but notice the beautiful scenery. Aside from Central Park, Manhattan was much more hectic than Brooklyn. I'm not saying that Brooklyn wasn't hectic. In fact, it was, but much less than Manhattan.

Unlike Manhattan with its giant skyscrapers and apartment buildings, Brooklyn was much lower lying. The buildings were also less constricted and more spread out. There were alleys here and there, but in Manhattan there were practically alleys wherever you went (A/N Not exactly sure about this. I don't live in New York, so sorry).

There were similarities, though. As I turned a corner, two cars zoomed by, one trailing the other. The trailing car was a police car and the other one was a gang's car. The police sirens wailed as they weaved in and out of traffic.

I sighed. I may be seven, but when you live in New York and walk on the streets almost every day, you see things that you shouldn't be seeing. I probably knew more about gangs in New York than I did about multiplying numbers up to five.

I passed by an appliance store that was playing a show on television. When I saw who was on television, I immediately stopped. It was Smelly Gabe, Gabriel Ugliano.

Tears were running down his cheeks. Fake tears, I thought bitterly.

"I- I can't believe this. My...my wife is dead and my son ran away from home. I heard rumors that he threw himself into the ocean and drowned himself to be with his mom." He wiped his eyes. "May God bless us. And I had to excuse myself from work today to get their life insurance. It- It's just so-" Smelly Gabe burst into more fake tears.

I muttered some bad words about Gabe like: "retard" and "stupid."

"There you have it," the new reporter said. "The story of the death of Sally Jackson and the disappearance of Percy Jackson. For the viewers at home, if you find any trace of Percy Jackson, please call to help Mr. Ugliano here. Here is a photo of Percy Jackson dated to last month."

Sure enough, a picture of me popped up that was taken last month. I was grinning like crazy in the photo. For a second, I admired it, but then I remembered that I was in public. I panicked and hastily turned away from the appliance store. I pulled the hood of my hoodie over my head to cover my hair and part of my face.

I quickly glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone had noticed who I was, but there was no reaction from the people of Brooklyn.

Check your pockets, a voice echoed in my head. Use it wisely.

I stopped for a second, frowning. I reached into my pocket and felt something there. It was smooth, yet rough...like paper. But there were multiple slips of paper. I pulled out five $20 bills and stared at it like I just won the lottery.

"Thank you, father," I whispered, like a prayer.

In that familiar gut feeling, I somehow knew that my father accepted the thanks.

I kept walking down the street when all of the information hit me like a speedboat plowing across the ocean waters. I was the son of Poseidon, a Greek god, who also just happens to be one of the Big Three. My mother was dead, my stepdad had my life insurance money and I was alone on the streets of Brooklyn.

I immediately felt angry at my real father as the thought that he hadn't visited me is seven years sprouted in my head. Why couldn't he have come back? Who cared if Zeus made a rule? You wouldn't be doing anything wrong.

After World War II, Zeus, Hades and Poseidon swore a pact to never have children ever again. They swore it on the River Styx. You're an illegal child, I remembered my mom saying.

Okay, my dad would be doing something wrong, but he should've never fallen in love with my mother. He cared now, but what about when I got beat up by bullies and Gabe. I didn't feel the tugging and nagging sensation in my stomach.

Like with the visions of the two fighting men (I still don't know who they are), a vision of my past flashed in my eyes. I was in first grade and a man in a black trench coat had stalked me on the playground. When the teachers threatened to call the police, he went away growling, but no one believed me when I told them that under his broad-brimmed hat, the man only had one eye, right in the middle of his head.

Then I was back in preschool, and a teacher accidentally put me down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. My mom screamed when she came to pick me up and found me playing with a limp, scaly rope I'd somehow managed to strangle to death with my meaty toddler hands.

The visions stopped and I stared at my hands in wonder. I slowly closed them. My fists were small and were not very useful in many things, but to think that I had once strangled a snake with my bare hands sounded...how do I say this modestly...pretty okay?

My little head tried to figure out why I had those visions and why they were important, but all I could figure out was that I was being reminded about how I was different than other children.

I may have been mad at my father for not being there for me, but I was seven. I loved almost anything at that age. Ice cream, dogs, trees, grass, water and more water. With a jolt, I realized I had been fascinated with water because I was connected to it. My father was the god of the seas. Water had always been interesting for me. It also explained why I loved hurricanes. And it was probably the reason why New York hadn't gotten a severe hurricane in a couple of years.

I walked into a small diner. I know that a seven year old child walking into a diner by him or herself would look suspicious, but his boy needed some cheeseburgers. As the door shut behind me, the smell of fries and burgers filled my nostrils. I seemed to float like an entranced angel to a booth.

When one of the waitresses came around to check on the tables, she eyed me suspiciously. "Aren't you a little young to be travelling by yourself?"

"My mom is just at home. I decided to take a walk," I lied. "She gave me the money for it."

"Ah, I see, now. Well, what would you like?"

"The regular. Cheeseburger and fries and a milkshake."

"Would you like pickles and tomatoes?"

"Yes, please."

"All right, honey. Your order'll be around soon."

There was something a little weird there. I don't think normal waitresses would believe that story thateasily. I carefully watched the waitress as she sauntered back to put my order in.

As another waiter passed by, I asked him, "Can I get a glass of water please?"

"Okay. I'll be right back, young lad." He spoke with a slight Scottish accent.

Within a minute, the waiter came back with a glass of water. "Here, you are."

"Thank you." Mom's politeness is really helpful to inherit. I splashed some of the water onto my face and my senses sharpened. So this actually works, I thought. The water, plus my ADHD helped my senses to sharpen to see what was going on around me. The waitress who took my order was serving others, getting seemingly close to the men at the bar. There was something about the way she talked that reminded me of something that I forgot what it was called. It was a complicated word that only nerds would know.

For a second, I thought I saw a donkey leg come up from underneath the waitress, but when I blinked, it was back to normal. Maybe I'm starting to hallucinate.

Then, I looked forward. All that was in front of me were families eating together, talking and laughing. Nothing looked odd there, but it sadly reminded me of the time my mom and I would eat cookies together and talk about Greek mythology...which was not mythological whatsoever. In fact, we did that yesterday, just before Zeus killed my mother indirectly.

"Here are your burger and fries. And the milkshake. Have a good meal, Perseus Jackson." The waitress walked away, swaying her hips.

I froze for a second. How did that lady know my name? I quickly scanned the restaurant again. There were still many families eating lunch, laughing with each other and having polite conversations. There were still men at the bar, drinking alcohol and telling each other stories about their past. The waiters and waitresses were walking around serving the tables, giving them their bills or their food.

I looked down at my burger and poked it. I could sense that something wasn't right, but as to what, I had no clue. I lifted the top bun of the burger and sniffed the cheese and pickles. Then I lifted the patty and looked at the sauce under it. Everything was fine. The burger looked normal to me. I opened the cover of my milkshake to see if there was anything weird in there, but there was nothing. It was just a regular milkshake.

Okay, I'm just going crazy. I have to stop worrying about things like this, I thought. Yep, I was definitely going crazy.

I sighed and hesitantly took a bite of the burger. It tasted normal to me. The savory goodness of the cheese was melting in my mouth, like the butter of my mom's homemade cookies. I hummed in content, munching on my cheeseburger like I hadn't had food in days. I ate some fries and drank a sip of my milkshake. Then I waited for a couple of minutes for any side effects or some super mutant growth mix to take action. Needless to say, nothing happened, so I went back to eating my food happily.

I kept scanning the restaurant to make sure that nothing weird was happening around me. Every time I checked, I would get the same picture. Families eating together, servers serving food and guys at the bar drinking. Oddly, one of the younger guys was slumped on the table as if he was sleeping. The weirdest part: no one paid attention to him. The guy next to him slammed his mug onto the table right next to the guy's face, which probably should've woken the young man up. But nothing happened.

I was halfway done my burger when I noticed some marks on the sleeping guy's neck. I peered closer and nearly dropped all of the food in my mouth onto my lap. There were two bite marks there, like large fangs had bit him.

My brain, slowly processing, started figuring something out. That young man was one of the guys who was closest to the waitress who served me my burger, fries and milkshake.

Donkey leg, a voice whispered in my head. The image of the donkey leg coming up from underneath the waitress flashed in my eyes.

Stupid donkey leg, I thought angrily. I'm trying to figure things out. Don't interrupt!

I stared back at the waitress who kept eyeing me as if I were her cheeseburger. It was getting really creepy, and I was thankful for the woman who gained the attention of the whole diner.

"Look at that black poodle! It's trying to cross the road!" she cried.

Heads turned and people gasped.

People started muttering things.

"Poor dog!"

"Call the ASPCA!"

"Watch out for the cars!"

If it was actually a black poodle, I probably would've said the same thing. But there was no luck that day. What the woman had pointed out to be a black poodle was actually a black hound the size of a fully grown grizzly bear, with a lava-red eyes and fangs like daggers.

To be honest, at the time I was new to the whole Greek gods and monsters thing so all I did was watch as the hound charged through traffic toward the diner.

The first car was flipped by the black hound and it did a three-sixty spin in the air before slamming into the building across the street.

The people in the diner became more frantic.

The hound had trashed two more cars before it had a home stretch to the diner. Then, turning around the corner to the left side of the street (in my viewpoint), a car zoomed toward the black dog. As it saw the hound...or maybe the "black poodle," the driver of the car swerved right, his right, and hit the curb.

In my perspective, the driver swerved left and was smashed toward the diner by the massive hound's shoulder. I just had enough time to react and I dove out of the booth as the car came crashing through the window, sailing over my head. Thankfully, the tables in the middle of the restaurant were all empty otherwise there would've been some casualties.

The hound jumped through the hole that the car made and howled. It's lava-red eyes glared at me and it bared its fangs.

"You're late," a voice called from behind me. I spun around to see the waitress walking toward me, except that she wasn't exactly the waitress I saw before. Now, the girl's skin was extremely pale and she had fangs, like a vampire.

"You're a vampire!" I exclaimed. Then I looked down to her legs and stared with wide eyes. She had a donkey leg and a metal leg.

"Yes," she snapped, "I have a donkey leg and a bronze leg. Heroes rarely have manners these days. But, no. I am not a vampire. Those silly legends were based on us. I am an empousa, a servant of Hecate."

That name stirred a small memory in my head. "Hecate," I murmured, "Goddess of Magic, Sorcery-"

"Witchcraft and necromancy," the empousa finished. The hellhound started to move closer to me, but the empousasnapped angrily at the beast. "You can have the carcass." She turned to me with a cruel smile. "I prefer the blood of young men, like him." She pointed to the "sleeping" young man who had two piercing marks in his neck.

"No!" I cried. "Go away." I backed up slowly and tripped on my own feet, falling down to my butt and probably bruising it.

"Come on, Percy. You know you want family," she purred.

I used my feet and hands to crawl backwards, to the wall behind me. I don't know what the other people in the restaurant saw, but I had the feeling that it looked pretty bad because a lot of them were shaking in fear. Basically, like I was.

The empousawalked slowly toward me.

"So Hecate is backing up Zeus and Hades? She wants to kill me, too?" I asked, trying to act as brave as a seven year old child can be.

The empousalet out a short bark of laughter, which was kind of weird because she wasn't a dog. "You have much to learn, young hero. Hecate isn't following orders from Zeus. Your tiny brain wouldn't be able to comprehend what horror our new lord can unleash upon this world. You are just...how do mortals say it...oh, yes! You are just a "grain of sand" in this world. You won't understand what is about to come in the future. But at the same time, you are dangerous to our great lord. You must be killed. Zeus and Hades are correct about that-"

The hound growled.

"Be patient!" the empousasnapped back. She turned to me. "Hellhounds these days."

I stared at the massive hound and pretty much rolled up into a ball.

"Don't be afraid," the empousasaid soothingly. "Let's just be family."

She leaned closer toward me.

"Go away!" I shouted, while covering my face with an arm. I could sense the empousagetting closer to my neck. "Go away!"

"Don't be afraid," she whispered.

"GO AWAY!" My left arm cut through the air in front of me and I heard a creaking and groaning. The empousajumped back a little, looking around for anything bad about to happen. The creaking and groaning stopped and all was quiet for a couple of seconds.

"Well," the empousasmiled. "If nothing is going to happen, why don't we-"

The water pipes burst. Water exploded from the wall and slammed into the empousa, sending her flying across the room. She hit her head against the concrete wall and was knocking unconscious.

Then, under the hellhound, a blast of water erupted like a fountain, drenching the monster in the wet water. It howled and growled as it tried fighting against the water, losing the battle.

I stared at the hellhound for a second. I had to admit, that was cool. But it wasn't me. I didn't feel that tugging sensation in my gut like when I made the pipes creak and groan. It was my father.

I snapped out of my shock and sprinted to my booth. My small duffel bag was not damaged at all as the car sailed over it when it crashed into the diner. I jumped up onto the seat of the booth and grabbed my bag. Using the top of the backrest as my push off item. I somersaulted through the window and landed on my feet outside of the diner.

I quickly scanned both directions. To my left, I could head deeper into the city and make lose the hellhound through buildings. To my right, I could head toward Gravesend Bay and fight the monster near water. Even for a seven year old, I could easily tell which was the better option.

I sprinted to my right, toward the water. I was nine hundred feet down the road when I heard the ear-piercing howl. I glanced over my shoulder and saw a speck of black moving toward me. The hellhound finally escaped the water bath my father created for it.

I turned my head back to the front and saw that I was nearing the water. Although I had an enormous lead on the hellhound, having a hellhound catch up to a seven year old within nine hundred feet was pretty easy.

As the hellhound got closer to me, I felt the ground shake and rumble underneath me. Weirdly, I didn't feel a thing. I was never off balance. I was fifty feet from the water when the hellhound jumped over me and landed at the edge of the street. It snarled at me and slowly approached me.

I backed up at about the same pace. Ten steps in, the hellhound lunged at me. Instinctively, I rolled to the side, but it's claw caught me on my left arm. There were four deep gashes in which blood was seeping out.

I screamed, but didn't collapse to the ground. It was as if the ocean air was helping me stay strong. The hellhound snarled once again.

Uncap it and it will keep you safe from the monsters!my mom said.

My right hand pulled the ballpoint pen out of my pocket, and as stupid as the advice sounded, I uncapped the pen.

Out of the pen, sprung a gleaming sword blade, the same color as the empousa's leg which was bronze.

The hellhound's snarling faltered when the blade appeared in my hand.

I quickly glanced behind me to the water. It looked deep enough to dive in. So, I spun around and cannonballed into Gravesend Bay.

As soon as I made contact with the water, I felt as if I'd just eaten a whole bag of candy from my mom's candy shop.

The thoughts of my mom were saddening, but I had a hellhound to kill. Then, I realized something. I forgot to hold my breath. I started panicking and worrying about how water was going to flood in my lungs, and I completely forgot that I was breathing normally as if I had gills. It took me a couple of seconds to calm down. When I did, I prayed to my father to shoot me back up to dry land.

Unprepared to be shot up while praying, I screamed as I felt the water push me out of the water. However, I still managed to land on my feet. The hellhound was still there, looking slightly scared now.

I glanced back down at my arm and found the sleeve of my hoodie there. Bewildered, I pulled up the sleeve of my hoodie and saw that my arm was healed. There were no scars or blood there, at all.

I stared at the water gratefully and almost got sliced to pieces by the hellhound. I just ducked in time and the hound only made a shallow cut on my cheek.

Roll and thrust. Duck and hack, the voice in my head said. And I did just that. I rolled to my right and thrust my sword at the hellhound. I stabbed it's shoulder. I tore the sword out of the monster and ducked just as it swiped at me. I didn't know what hack meant, but I swung my sword like a baseball bat. The hellhound burst into golden dust in front of me.

I smiled and opened my duffel bag. I didn't feel like drinking salt water, so I took out a water bottle. Just as I was about to drink it, the apple juice caught my eye. There was something sticking out from beneath the bottles.

I pulled it out and read it.

Nectar - drink of the gods. Demigods can drink this as well to heal themselves, but not too much unless they want to burn up.

Be careful with this, son.

I picked up a bottle of the nectar and examined it. It still looked like apple juice to me. I shrugged and put the water bottle back. I took a sip of the nectar, and I was shocked. Nectar was nothing like apple juice. Nectar tasted like my mom's homemade blue chocolate-chip cookies, except in liquid form.

I sighed as pleasure coursed through my body. I felt the cut on my cheek close up and return back to normal.

If my mom's stories were right, the other food should be ambrosia.

I pulled the piece of paper out from underneath the bag of cubed pudding. Sure enough, it read:

Ambrosia - food of the gods. Demigods can eat one cube to heal themselves. More than two will burn a demigod up.

This is your supply for this year, son. Use it wisely.

I nodded to myself. I placed the bottle of nectar back and zipped my bag. I got up and dusted my pants off.

I don't know if anyone heard it, but I could hear a faint and familiar sound. And it was coming from the ocean. I looked to the right and saw a rocky beach that led to the water.

Advice, never go to New York for beaches. Montauk is the best beach in New York State, in my opinion.

When I arrived at the water, the faint noise grew louder. Somehow, even though I'd never heard one before, I recognized the horn as a conch shell. It was like the calling of the sea.

I waited until the sound of the horn disappeared.

I frowned and stepped closer to the water. That was when I heard an all-too-familiar voice behind me. "Hello, Percy."

I spun around to find a tall man watching me curiously. He had a neatly trimmed beard, sea-green eyes, and raven black hair. There were many crinkles around his eyes, which showed he smiled a lot. Covering most of his head was a battered cap decorated with fishing lures that said "NEPTUNE'S LUCKY FISHING HAT." He wore a Hawaiian shirt decorated with coconuts and coconut trees, khaki Bermuda shorts and leather sandals. Despite the fact that his face looked weary, he still looked handsome. I guess all gods give off that aura, I thought.

Then came the man's aura. Like my mom said, he was tall and powerful, yet gentle at the same time. He stood strong and proud, but despite his muscular build he gave off that comforting aura of gentleness. His face was weary and sad and almost pitying.

All in all, I looked like a younger version of my father.

"Dad."

Hey everyone,

This is just an experiment. It is probably going to suck. I know, it has been done before, bla, bla, bla... But I need your opinion on what I should write next. Send me your thoughts by PM or by reviewing.

Question of the Chapter: Should Percy train by himself until he is twelve, or start making his way to camp right away?

I also apologize for any grammatical errors in the following story.

With best regards,
SharkAttack719