Ch 2

My life was beyond plaintive on so many levels. Money was always an issue in the Jackson household, with an abusive and alcoholic stepfather coupled with a depressed mother who turned a blind eye to pretty much everything, my childhood was merely figmental. Dad had been a total douche and ditched on us when he found out I was conceived. Must be where I get my sense of responsibility from. Anyway, school was no better, bullies were practically my best friends since they spent more time with me than anybody else did. True, it was painful and mortifying but at least I had some human interaction. And I was so naive for thinking that it couldn't get any worse.

It had been two days since my little latrine excursion and my status had gotten even worse at camp, if that was possible. I was subjected to bouts of jibes and mocking, making me almost wish I had stayed with Gabe. Almost. I should have been used to this treatment, it was the one constant in my life. Rejection. it should have been my middle name. No matter where I went or what I did, I would never fit in. What had I done wrong? Where was perdition in my being?

On a happier note, Capture the Flag was on today. Maybe if I performed well, they wouldn't be so harsh on me. Even as the thought went through my mind, I knew it was hopeless. Every time they mocked and insulted me, I saw it in their eyes. The patent prejudice and the unalloyed hate brimming in those orbs, entertained at my degradation. Thinking wasn't one of my strong points, if I even had any. Even so, anyone would ponder at the unwelcoming attitude here on par with my previous schools. Was it because I'm the new kid? No matter, I will try my best.

My nerves tingled and my fingers twitched in excitement, anticipation pulsated through the very fibres of my being. I knew I was no expert in the art of swordsmanship, overconfidence was not my stature. Pride would be the downfall of it's own object and I had no desire to be an example for others. I just hoped that I was decent enough to remain unscathed for the duration of this perilous game. For this session, I was on Annabeth's team. That to, only because she grudgingly accepted after Chiron forced her. I trudged over to the group huddle where our strategist, Annabeth, was to commence the explanation of the game plan. All eyes turned toward me as I neared them, disdainful and unforgiving, prompting me to ask politely, "Is there something wrong?", looking around as if to identify the source of the awkwardness but I already knew what the problem was. Me.

"Actually, there is. You may divulge our stratagem. Though unintentional or not, in order to eliminate the risk, you will not be involved in the discussion", said Annabeth, prideful and ruthless, not bothering to sugarcoat it. Her words were stated calmly but there was a carefully veiled threat that lay beneath them. I exhaled, hiding the disappointment, anger, frustration and anguish that had compacted itself within me for the last few days.

"Oh. Alright, I'll take one for the team. Got it.", I nodded as I replied, trying to feign ignorance as to their true intentions.

"Yeah, whatever. You'll be patrolling the Creek boundary. Off you go.", this time Luke replied. I nodded once again and ran off toward the Creek. As soon as I reached it, I flopped down on the bank. I kept my emotions in check, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of seeing me crack slowly. I wouldn't break. Not now, not ever. With that silent vow, I stood up, unsheathing my useless blade at the same time and examining it. The sword was bulky, heavy and disproportioned. Luke had said that it was an 'amazing' blade when he handed it to me. I knew he was lying with a straight face though I chose not to say anything at the time. My armor and helmet were all too big, weighing me down and straining me under it's burden.

The conch horn sounded and resonated throughout the area, signalling the start of the game.

Two hours. I have been sitting on this rock for two hours. I was unreal like that. Sometimes, my body would convulse and quiver in an adrenaline rush and other times, like now, I could sit for hours with an infinitesimal patience. Every now and then, I would hear the clang of swords or the twang of a bow and stray arrow. Oh, how I wanted to join in the battle, and head-first into the fray even though I knew the probability of getting beaten down was rather high.

I huffed.

A rustle in the brush in front of me brought me to an alert state, sword in hand. I assumed what I hoped was an intimidating stance with the sword poorly held in front of me, parallel to my chest. Six people stepped out and I groaned out loud. It was the war dog Clarisse and her Neanderthal siblings, all ready for another night of sadistic goodness.

She spotted me and grinned widely, the bloodlust almost palpable in the air, and remarked, "Annabeth said you'd be here. Looks like she was telling the truth. We are going to have so much fun."

I was scared out of my prepubescent mind, though it surprised me that Annabeth had revealed my location. Surprisingly, it took five whole seconds before the Ares kids got impatient and started attacking me. Before I knew it, I was disarmed and on the ground, getting stampeded and plowed into the dirt as they kicked me over and over. A studded boot, standard for all children of Ares, pounded at the base of my head, shoving my face into the damp ground and ended up stuffing my mouth and nose with dirt. My body cringed in agony and I lost control for a split second.

Grabbing the next foot that was about to strike, I pulled it down and used it to hoist myself to my feet. I punched a second figure in the throat causing him to choke and spasm on the ground. Taking his shield, I held it in both hands and spun around, using the momentum to smash the shield into another warrior's head and eliciting a sickening crunch. The guy was already unconscious at this point but I didn't care. I raised the shield once again.

The tip of a blade pierced my armor and broke the skin, making me cry out in pain and causing me drop the shield as I tried to control myself. The blows were raining down even harder now, fueled with vengeance for their comatose incited brother. Clarisse still stood at a distance, leisurely watching me get pummeled, with a smirk adorning her features. Now on my knees, I was bleeding profusely and knew my ribcage was fractured. I hoped they would stop soon. Slowly, the attacks ceased and I almost let out a sigh of relief but then saw why they stopped. Clarisse walked towards me, her spear out and the tip crackled with energy. An electric spear, oh no.

My screams could probably be heard on Olympus as the pain inducing spear penetrated my bruised body repeatedly, making me feel numb. My face planted in the ground as I lay there, unable to move in the slightest without sending tendrils of pain arcing through my spine and skull. Another conch horn sounded in the distance, saving me the agony of Clarisse's spear but not from the aftershock.

Loud whoops and cheers could be heard in the woods and Luke emerged on scene, holding the enemy flag in his hand and a triumphant look carved into his face. Chiron galloped toward me just as I stood up, albeit painfully and gasped as he observed my condition. It must have been bad because similar sounds were heard from the crowd. Some looked satisfied and others just didn't care, there were a few with sympathetic looks on their faces but I couldn't care less at the moment. Someone handed me a piece of ambrosia and I wolfed it down greedily, sighing as I felt most of my wounds heal. The worst of them still remained, as a reminder of the cruelty and oppression at my expense. Amazingly, Clarisse and her goons didn't seem fazed over their loss in the game which seemed odd since the Ares cabin was extremely competitive, unless they weren't trying to win the game. Maybe they were aiming for something else...

A sea-green light flared from above my head. Due to the shock I received from Clarisse, raising my head up to the source proved to be quite a challenge. Even then, I could perceive from the expressions of the campers that it was something big. A gasp from Annabeth, a sigh from Chiron and an irritated "What the hell?" from Clarisse all pointed towards a single conclusion, which was voiced into reality.

"Hail Perseus Jackson, Son of Poseidon, Lord of the Seas, the Stormbringer, the Earthshaker and Father of Horses.", boomed Chiron.

And like that, I was claimed.

A/N: A note of thanks to our Beta SlytherinQueen1704.