IX
Tensions were high around Camp. Everything seemed suffocating, muted, as if everyone was moving and talking underwater.
Ever since Silena's betrayal, everyone's spirits seemed down. More and more Campers disappeared, vanishing without a trace to join the other side- the side that obviously has the winning hand.
The person who seemed the most frustrated was Clarisse La Rue, and people could often hear her storming inside her cabin. She complained, she raged, but she never left, and Percy felt immensely grateful for it. They were losing power, their army weakening.
But it's not just that.
Because in the end, they were just so, so tired. Tired of the betrayals, tired of the fighting; tired of the plotting, tired of the hiding. They were tired of this life, with all the spies and technology and danger and needs for survival. They were exhausted.
Days passed.
Weeks.
Percy called his mom, just for the sake of hearing her voice, not caring that the government might be eavesdropping on the telephone lines.
The government. Working with the Titans. The government was working with a bunch of power hungry villains.
This world is rotting. It's completely rotten, down to the very core.
The counselors met up again to form other backup plans and further strategize. Even Annabeth seemed hazy, half awake, not shooting out brilliant ideas as per usual.
The meeting made little progress.
They slept. They ate. They trained. They planned.
Nothing happened.
Weeks passed.
A month.
It was mid-August, nearing Percy's birthday. He'll become sixteen soon, that is, if he survives until then.
Three more days until his birthday.
Two more days before he turns sixteen.
One more-
And then he felt it.
While the world had seemed muted before, now it's as if somebody had pressed the 'pause' button. Everything went silent.
Tensions rose, adrenaline filled Percy's veins.
"Gear up!" he shouted, back on commanding. Annabeth was right beside him, strapping on weapons, armor, shouting out orders to others.
The Camp woke up into activity. Noise felt the air, blocking out the hollow silence that had been caused by the enemy. Magic or technology, Percy had no idea, and it didn't matter. The outside world was asleep. If they were to fight, it'd be now.
The Hunted filed out.
The night air was chill, and mist had risen from the damp ground. The moon illuminated the land, casting everything into a beautiful, silvery light. Stars accompanied their cold mother, twinkling merrily, blinking brightly. The night world seemed to be a world from a dream, mysterious, beautiful…
From the distance, blinking like pairs of bloodthirsty stars, were eyes, glowing in the darkness, hazy behind the mist. Shadows of silhouettes invaded the peace. The Hunted moved forward as well, as one, to meet their enemy.
Everything was still silent, but not muted as it had been before. It was a tense, quivering silence. Both sides remained frozen.
Then, the Titan army rippled, and a path was formed for one person. And the one person who stalked up to the front of the enemy army was none other than Luke.
He had a proud smirk on his face, he held himself up like a king.
A ripple of unease reverberated through the Hunted at the sight of him. Hostility bloomed. And yet, no one spoke a single word, as if everyone was afraid of breaking this silence.
In the end, Luke was the most courageous.
The former Hunted raised a hand, pointing a finger at his former comrades. His command echoed through the valley.
"Attack."
το κυνήγι
The silence shattered like glass.
With ear-piercing battle cries, every one of them rushed into the battle.
Percy's mind went blank. His body moved with its own accord, with skills that had been driven into his muscles after years of practice and training. The small part of his mind that was still functioning noticed other Campers around him. Annabeth was somewhere on his right, slipping through the enemy ranks like a ghost and stabbing them through their armor with the skill and precision of any child in Cabin Six. He heard Clarisse bellow as she fought, her size and power cutting through the monsters and humans like they were stalks of wheat.
Behind them, there was a deafening Boom! as a few Hunted from Cabin Nine fired their cannons towards the back of their enemies' ranks, where their own soldiers had not yet reached. Bodies went up into flame, filling the air with an acrid smoke that smelt of burnt flesh and melting metal.
Where was Luke? Percy wondered. The traitor had seemed to disappear right after he triggered the war, and he was nowhere in sight.
The sounds of cannons were almost constant in the background, and Percy felt like he was going deaf. But then, something roared.
The sound covered the cannons, unbelievably enough, and it rattled Percy to his core. It was a deep, murderous sound, bloodthirsty and hungry. The roar rolled through the valley, seemingly echoing several times, before the battlefield fell silent. Everyone seemed to have frozen.
Then, rising from behind the enemies' endless ranks, a dragon- a literal dragon, just without wings, appeared majestically, fire streaming from its gaping jaws, poison dripping like saliva. It started forward, most making way for it, while some unfortunate souls were trampled. Once again, it roared, but this time, another cry joined its.
Clarisse, in all her gore and glory, charged the dragon (or was it a drakon? Percy had no idea) with her electric spear cackling blue. She dodged a pillar of flame, then ducked under the monster, disappearing from sight for a moment. Very soon, she appeared again, but now, the counselor of Cabin Five was clambering up the drakon's back, stabbing her spear through its thick armor to help her climb.
The fighting had started again, but this time it was more panicked, more frenzied. Percy was beginning to tire; it was difficult for him to keep up. In the distance, the drakon continued to roar. Cannons started again, but now, they didn't seem as loud. Percy sliced, he fought, he searched…
His eyes landed on the drakon, which was furiously swinging its tail from side to side. And clinging desperately onto the chinks between the drakon's protective armor, was Clarisse.
Percy watched as if in slow motion as Clarisse's grasp finally failed her, and she sailed through the air, narrowly missing a spat of fire. She slammed painfully onto the ground. Percy winced. He could almost hear the crack.
The drakon towered over the warrior. Its poison saliva sizzled as it came in contact with the ground, dangerously close to Clarisse's paralyzed figure.
"Clarisse!" Percy bellowed, beginning to charge and hack his way towards her.
But someone reached her before him.
Another person, someone he did not recognize at the moment, was suddenly in front of the drakon, shielding Clarisse's body with his own. The person brandished his own spear, brought it back, and let it fly, arching through the air with perfect precision, stabbing the drakon right through one eye.
The drakon roared in pain, stumbling back and shaking its head, trying to dislodge the needle.
While the drakon was panicking, the person had taken the chance to drag Clarisse to the side, where a few medics ran up to meet them.
Now the drakon was truly angered. It roared towards the sky, bellowing its fury, spitting out its fiery and devouring anger. Clarisse's savior seemed calm as he met it.
He charged. He nimbly dodged droplets of acid, repelled the fire with a round shield that Percy had not noticed. He twirled and danced, almost taunting the drakon, jabbing at its underbelly and slicing its legs. The drakon stumbled around, crushing both allies and enemies alike under its claws. Those very claws swiped at the person, but they were dodged.
The tail sliced through the air like a whip, slamming onto the ground before the new warrior.
Somewhere off by one side, Clarisse was struggling to her feet, ignoring the fervent pleas and calls of the Camp healers. She struggled against their grasps, screaming at the person. Screaming something Percy couldn't understand. It sounded like a name, almost like a plea, but…
And at that moment, the replacement warrior screamed. The drakon had spat a pool of poison, and it had finally hit its enemy- right in the face.
Alongside the mysterious savior's scream, was Clarisse's, filled with anguish and anger. She ripped herself away from the medics, hurrying to where the person now lay. She cradled the person with a gentleness Percy had never seen in her, whispering something to her savior, too quietly for him to hear.
And then, her aura changed. It went from grieving, to pure rage.
And then… and then…
Percy didn't really understand what happened next.
Cabin Five had never been one of much abilities. They were just exceptionally talented fighters and warriors.
But now… it was as if something inside of her had awakened. Clarisse seemed to be surrounded by a blood red glow, and when she moved, her own spear in her own hand…
It was slaughter. It was like watching someone butcher a pig.
Blood rained from above, where Clarisse had given the drakon one long, powerful slice from its neck down to the tip of its tail.
Guts fell from the wound, a squishy, pulpy mess that splashed as it landed into the pool, and the blood came like a flood, a sticky, red, ocean. When the drakon fell to the ground, it was with a deafening crash that splintered the ground and caused earthquakes, along with tiny tsunamis in its sea of blood.
The silence fell.
Percy finally managed to reach the fallen warrior, who laid in the middle of the blood pond.
And then, Percy realized a huge, tremendous mistake.
It was not some mysterious warrior who had appeared to replace Clarrisse; it was not even a 'he'! Because despite the helmet, despite her ruined, melted face, Percy recognized her.
The former counselor of Cabin Ten, Silena Beauregard.
Reviews are much appreciated!