~The Mortal world discovered the existence of Half-Bloods. In fear of their power, they began to view Demigods as abominations to mankind, and began to kill and terminate them. The process of terminating them could be death, experimenting, or having their body parts given to people in need. However some Demigods fight back, angry with the way humans view them as, traveling to safe house to safe house, attempting to get to Camp Half Blood, the only safe place left for them. Some never make it.~

Prologue:

"Apparently he's too dangerous to be kept alive," one of the nurses exclaimed, tying back her thick, long hair. "Killed two police men trying to get away, took a mortal hostage and blew up a building." The man whistled in response, but eyed the blue eyed boy on the table warily. Connor Stoll wanted to smirk defiantly right back at him, but he was too numb to move. He wished he wasn't. Even if it was the most painful thing ever imaginable, Connor didn't want them to get the satisfaction of knowing that he couldn't do anything. If screaming in pure agony was all he could do, then that's what he wanted to do. "We asked the mortal parent what she wanted to do. Since he's practically dead anyway, she wants him used as a donor. Said his life could finally be useful instead of worthless. Although, I don't know why she didn't want him tested for experiments instead."

"Copy that," another girl on the medical team said, undirected at the nurse.

Connor Stoll is three minutes in. Five of them surrounded him, wearing green colored scrubs and face masks. He can only see their eyes, but eyes can say all. The worry, the concern, the fear is swimming in their eyes. But he couldn't even enjoy the feeling of being intimidating properly, because Connor was stuck with the knowledge that he couldn't fucking move. He wanted to struggle, but the injection that the smiley nurse had stabbed him with made him paralyzed. And even if he could, his arms and legs were strapped down.

"No one can know that we're demigods," Travis said to him. "Want to know why? Because all humans think that we're an abomination to society. And if we do get caught, they'll cut us up into a million tiny pieces. They want to know how we work from the inside out.

At the time, Connor had shuddered. But he wasn't afraid. Just because every mortal despised demigods didn't mean that there weren't laws. They were technically half human, meaning that the bastards that he called mortals had to be at least somewhat civilized.

Like, he couldn't feel the procedure. But he had to be awake the entire time until he wasn't. He was just glad that they had gotten him and now Travis. It was his fault, anyway. They were so close to getting to one of the safe-houses, and Connor just had to steal from the guy. He reached in his pocket, so skillfully that the mortal couldn't even feel his jeans move the slightest, and taken out his wallet.

Everything had gone smoothly.

Connor just hadn't expected for the guy to be a cop.

The girl with the thick hair blotted his cheek and forehead, while the rest of them grabbed metal tools that glistened under the light. He blinked, staring at the nurse with wide blue eyes. "It'll be okay. I'm here to help you get through this. Say yes if you can hear me."

He can speak, but it comes out groggy and weak. "'es."

"Good," she smiled brightly at him, and he so wished that he could scowl right back. "By law we have to keep you awake during the entire procedure. We just inserted catheters into your carotid artery and jugular vein. Right now your blood is being replaced with a synthetic oxegyon-rich solution. That basically means that we're taking all your blood from your Godly side and saving it. We then take the blood and give it to people in need. It won't make them half-bloods, thank God. It just makes them a little bit stronger."

"You'll be saving lives alright," the man said. "People with cancer or other illness' will be partially cured and have a better chance of survival."

Connor doesn't give a damn about mortals. He could care less if they died. He looks out for his own kind, not them. "O' toTartarus." It came out more like Tartar sauce.

The smiley nurse's smile doesn't faze. "Hell. Not Tartarus. And It's okay to feel that way."

Someone dropped one of the tools and Connor gasped in surprise. He didn't want to feel scared. But he was. The nurse gripped his hand tighter, almost like she had humanity instead of the monster that was tearing him limb from limb. "Just pay attention to me, Connor. Talk to me. You might feel a tugging sensation at your legs, and that's okay." He felt like throwing up. Swallowing hard, he gazed at the nurse in pure hatred.

"I hate you. I hate this. Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?" It's getting easier to speak now, and he's glad.

She smiled at him. "I understand."

He doesn't remember how long he has been in. He doesn't remember a lot of things, now. He forgot what his brother looked like, he forgot who his Godly parent is.

The smiley nurse had read his file on her own, and is now reading it to him. She knew everything about him now, the good and the bad. She stopped ever time she wanted to say something. "I think it's horrible what your mother did to you."

He swallowed. "Yeah, well. I had to protect my little brother."

"Travis, right? He's still out there?"

"Yes." He licked his lips, wanting to look down to see what the surgeons were doing to him, but the nurse held his gaze firmly and he didn't particularly want to see anyway. Snippets of his blue eyes and brown hair flashed across his eyes. "Please don't take him like you took me. He's only eight. It's not his fault that he's a demigod."

"I know." She stopped smiling. "I know it's not your fault. Who's your father, Connor? Who's your Godly parent?"

"Hermes."

She nodded again, her brown eyes staring into his. "I'm sorry that you were born."

He expected it to hurt, but it doesn't. "Yeah. Me too."

"I'm afraid we're going to have to stop talking now."

Panic swelled in his chest. "No! Please, I'm not ready!"

"Just let it go, Connor. It's over. Just let go."

"I don't want to let go!" As much as he wanted to save his dignity, he began to cry.

"..."

"Please?"

"No! Please!" He's begging now. His friend had once told him that a person begs when they're about to die. Now he knows that it's true. There's more tingling sensations. A faint, flicker of pain shooting up to his chest.

He can't see after that. He can't hear after that except for a pounding noise.

He thinks the noise is his heart.

My name is Connor Stoll.

My brother's name is Travis Stoll.

My father's name is Hermes.

My name is...

The pounding noise stops.

A/N: I'm pretty sure that this is a pretty good idea, and it hasn't been done as much as I expected it to be. If this seems familiar to you, it probably is. I got the idea from the book series "Unwind" by Neal Shusterman, and used some parts in the prologue. Let me know what you think down in the reviews!