So, where was I? Oh, yeah, challenging Luke Castellan, master of all things having to do with battle skills and combat fighting, known for his expertise and never losing a fight. And I was known for making rather excellent tacos, but quite frankly, I didn't think that skill was going to help me at the current moment. It was only then that I comprehended how utterly ludicrous this was. But hey, take a new chance every day, right?

Giving me one last sneering look, he assailed with the first strike handling a jagged blade, aiming for my head. Providentially, my astute intuition kicked in as I ducked, avoiding the blow just narrowly. Still backing up, he attacked continually, this time a more powerful force that took me by surprise. I really don't have much experience with fighting, but there was a slim crevice of hope that was embedded in this unfeasible-seeming mission.

This time, his raid was directed near my unprotected legs which, on instinct, readied my legs to spring upwards. That crack of faith that I possibly might not die developed into a wider, broader area, extending so that I grew haughty and a little over-confident, a smug smile slowly expanding on my face. A rookie's mistake when it comes to battle.

Shocking me, once again, his serrated knife glided through my skin on my cheek, revealing a small scar, close to my nose. A jolt of pain splurged through my body as I yelped in agony, blood trickling down my face. Though the slice was shallow, Luke wounded me without mercy.

I stumbled to the ground, my hand tenderly feeling my fragile cheek to confirm it wasn't as appalling as I assumed it was as my head throbbed excruciatingly. Then, glancing up at him, he commenced to chuckle, reticent at first, then gradually cultivating into a more gregarious guffaw.

Glowering at him through clenched teeth and vaguely blurred vision, I chose right then and there, that I was not going down.

"Care to surrender?" he asked, his tone leaking with such poise and cockiness that you'd think he'd just won Capture the Flag. I tingled with antipathy, infuriated with this new rival.

"Don't make me go all Madea on you!" I lamely retorted back. I am absolutely abysmal with spur of the moment witty type things to say, like in the movies. But you know what they say; if you can't convince them, confuse them.

Luke gave me a perplexed look, which gave me just enough time to clobber him in the mouth with my compressed fist. Staggering back for a second, he finally took in how fierce I was capable of being. He underestimated me, a professional's mistake.

Recuperating, he wiped his slightly bloody mouth with his sleeve while I recommenced with my attacking streak, performing a double front-snap kick right in the center of his chest-a skill Annabeth had advised would be expedient someday, proving to be just that. I desired to boast right then and there but disallowed that motion, considering what occurred the previous time a few minutes ago.

A look of resentment burned into me as he glared at me and raised his knife afresh but I was ready. By examining his fighting patterns and eye contact and body gestures, I analyzed and predicted the precise moment he would attempt to slash me near my left arm. Swiftly sidestepping this movement, I advanced and cornered him between the brick vine-entrenched wall. Apprehensively glancing around, he realized his options were limited.

And of course, luck bartered sides yet again. Out of nowhere, a black hole of some sort appeared into the concrete-rigid faded bricks that seemed to swallow everything in the vicinity.

Right before he was engulfed into the hole, I was positive he muttered, "Thank Medusa," which was odd, since most people would say "Thank God" or something like that. The only 'Medusa' I knew was the Greek mythological one. Well, I suppose she isn't fabled, since none of the other Greek gods, goddesses, monsters, cyclops, etc., are real. I erudited from Annabeth, Percy, and Grover's legendary quest that they vanquished her with one slice, and her head just rolled off. Pretty gruesome, yes, but that incident was spread throughout the camp. It's so prevalent; I'm surprised it's not told at the campfires.

Flashback

Anyway, a couple weeks ago, the information of a new prophecy buzzed around camp going something like this:

Fear her now

Hath she untwine

To dominate, she must prow

From the inside out

One whom betray

Three who might save

The fate only conceal

What instincts will pay

Chiron and most baffled campers believe this is referring to the work of some recent awakening creature, maybe even another descendant of Kronos. Rachael, the Oracle, unfortunately, cannot obtain any other information from the spirit world so all we have left to do is guess at this mystifying divination.

I honestly do not know what to think. Maybe this is a new nemesis, but last time, everyone thought in only one perspective, too stubborn to look at the outskirts of the problem. I'm no detective; I don't even know where to begin, but if the correct solution would be to view things at a newfangled angle, then I'm going to need some help. Problem? I just don't know where to find any.

Back to present time

With Luke escaping, I probably made the craziest decision in my life, but how can I tell after all the extreme and insane action going on so far?

Though I couldn't really tell if the random black hole sucked me in or if I dived in bravery determined to not allow him to flee, escaping, I'm going to go with the second one.

Then, without admonition, I was flung into a whole other dimension of shattering darkness and isolation. Stupid black hole.

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