Chapter Two: Spike
Life was grand, well, at least now it was.
"Spike! Thalia wants you!" Annabeth, my little full brother's girlfriend, calls through my closed bedroom door.
"Okay! Be there in a sec!" I pull on some real pants.
"I'll tell her!" Annabeth calls.
"Don't, I got it!" I laugh as I fall off my bed and onto the cold metal palace floor.
Annabeth laughs too, sending a friendly smile across my usually depressed face.
Oh! We, as in Thalia and I, were going to go on a secluded walk, where Jason, her brother, wouldn't be able to follow us. Usually, she comes and gets me herself.
My life has been taking a gradual climb to greatness. But every that goes up, must come down. Though my life with my father, Poseidon, has not yet started the climb, I'm okay with that. He'll always hate me. I'm the kid, or the second kid, counting his eldest Ari, he hates the most.
As I gather my things, necessary so says my mother, I head out to the Tree of Love, a Cherry Tree that is in blossom no matter what season. And I text her.
Hey, Spike here! By the tree. JWaiting for you. As I hit send, I can't help but smile.
KK. I'll be there soon. ;) She sends me a text back.
Her signature, Spike is mine, always made me smile.
Today was different.
Not as in, I'm gonna break up with you, different. But as in, something is so not right, different.
Something wasn't right. Everything was off. The birds weren't as noisy. The wild life in general was close to being silent. I felt as if something was watching me from the most plain sight spot.
Creak… I whirl on my heels toward the palace door, which was behind me, expecting to see Thalia come out. But nothing was there.
Suddenly a hand covered my mouth and grabbed my waist, and knocked me off my feet with a swift yank.
My world spun like crazy, and made me feel really sick.
"You're mine now!" Something snarls into my ear.
"Thal—!" I go to scream, but, the thing covered my mouth.
"Oh no! No! NO!" He, well, I think it's a he, snarls.
"Help!" I muttered through his hand.
"Bad Spike." He puts a cloth, drenched in something, which made me pass out in record time. "Good night, Spititous."