Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and The Olympians or any associated media.
Hope you enjoy.
I burst through the front doors of North York bloody, bruised, and running on fumes. Few of the guards had put up as much a fight as Warden Charles, but the sheer number of the them alongside their riot gear had proven a tougher obstacle then I had imagined. I'd nearly flooded the facility during my escape, and it was still far closer then I would've liked it to be.
A stiff breeze blew past and I shivered. The wind was colder then it had any business being this time of year. The grey clouds above had congregated together into a single dark mass, blocking out the sun and leaving upstate New York pallor and lifeless. For the first time in months, I was seeing the world without the obstruction of glass or linked chain. It was dull. It was stagnant.
It was beautiful, and I couldn't help the smile that broke out on my face as I at last looked upon it.
Sirens wailed behind me and I was quickly reminded of my situation. I'd made it out of the facility, but that was only a prologue to the real challenge.
I began hoofing it down the front walkway, reaching it's end quickly and hopping down a flight of stairs to land heavily on North York's driveway. Needles dug sharply into my bare feet, and I bit my lip hard before limping off the gravel and onto the front lawn. A second was spared to relieve my freshly cut feet and spit a curse at the jagged stones behind me, but I quickly resumed my sprint towards freedom, bloody soles and all. Reaching the end of the driveway, I looked up and down the road. No cars, no cruisers, no flashing lights. Just an empty rural highway stretching out as far as the eye could see. It wouldn't be that way for long.
Across the road from me sat a forest only a minute's sprint away. I'd seen a map of this area once during geography class and knew that those woods were large and dense. A fine base of operations.
My mind set and my resolve still hardened, I looked back at North York for a final time. Colourless walls, shatter proof glass, a front garden that hadn't been cared for since the 20th century. I felt no real attachment to the place, but it had housed me for some time. Paying it a fleeting moment of respect before I left just felt like the proper thing to do. A guard suddenly stumbled out the door in a dazed state and I took that as my sign to get moving. Crossing the road and passing a telephone pole, I noted a large feather laying abandoned on the ground. I squinted my eyes before looking up at the electrical cords above it.
Empty.
My eyebrows drew together and I quickened my pace. If Warden Charles was to be believed, the police wouldn't be the only ones looking for me now that I was out.
I broke the tree line a minute later and was immediately set upon by thick shrubs and low branches. Though a testament to how naturally suited this woodland was to hiding individuals, the experience of pushing through the forestry was less then enjoyable considering my lack of shoes and shirt. Coupled with the crippling absence of food, shelter, and other supplies, the downsides of hiding in the forest were readily becoming apparent. Realistically, I'd only be able to stay in these woods for a day, two at the most if I were willing to tough it out.
It's a good thing I had no intention of staying here at all.
The density of the woodland hadn't been my only reason for my entering this forest.
With a grin, I delved further into the forest in search of the nearest stream.
On foot, the trip to Manhattan from North York's should've taken me at least two days. Taking the Hudson River, I made it in six hours. The streetlights were only just coming on as I emerged from Upper Bay and flopped onto the docks of Battery Park.
As I had hoped, finding an offshoot of the Hudson River as close to Albany as North York was hadn't been to difficult. Following that stream back to it's source, I was met with my own express highway leading straight to New York, New York. As you might've been able to guess, I was a pretty strong swimmer. Coupled with the river's naturally strong current as well as my own manipulation of the water, and I was nearly indistinguishable from a torpedo as I flew Southward through the rapids.
That didn't mean it had been easy.
My limbs cried and my chest heaved with as I stared up at the darkening sky. I'd spent the last few hours submerged in the river, and so any wounds I'd gotten from my prison break had by now been completely healed. Sadly, the water couldn't heal did the exhaustion that came with using my powers. I'd be pretty much unstoppable if that were the case though, so I didn't agonize over it too much. The only remedy I'd ever discovered for the fatigue that came with exhausting my abilities was a good meal and a good nap.
Neither were available to me, and so with a sigh, I stood and began walking up the wooden planks and into the city. I passed a dock worker that had seen me emerge from the river, and using Warden Charles' wallet, bought his silence alongside his sweater. He eyed me with both curiosity and concern, but eventually took the money and turned away, muttering something under his breath about skipping his next night shift. I just smirked and zipped up my new hoodie. It didn't get much more New York then people minding there own business while shady shit went down around them. With that, I made my way to West Avenue to begin my long trek towards Northern Manhattan.
The next few hours were spent with my face cast down as I walked through the familiar streets of my home town. The news of my escape hadn't broken yet, but I still wouldn't be doing myself any favours by putting my face in people's memories. Every once in a while though, I found myself forcibly looking up from the ground to inspect my surroundings. Every alley I passed, every gargoyle I saw, every shadow that shifted under the neon lights of New York. I watched them all, analyzing them and making sure they really were just as they appeared. Being back in the city, back home, I should've been able to relax, to take comfort in my familiar surroundings and finally let my guard down.
But I couldn't.
Six months in juve had done little to rid me of the habits and instincts I'd built over half a lifetime.
A short lifetime, but a lifetime nonetheless.
When I reached my mom's apartment building in Harlem, it was about what I expected. Run down, graffitied, sketchy as hell and surrounded by the kind of guys that help give your fight or flight instinct a late night workout. She'd said it was only temporary when she first moved in a couple months ago, that it was a cheap place for her to stay until I got released and we moved into a better place together. Seeing it for the first time, anger and bitterness churned horribly in my stomach. To know that my mom, the sweetest and most forgiving person in the world was forced to live in a dump like this just to save a few bucks was bad enough on it's own.
But to know she was doing it for me...?
I shook my head and walked up the aging concrete steps. The front hall was narrow and matched the buildings outward appearance perfectly. Meaning, it too was a dump. I walked around a guy sleeping outside his apartment and stopped at the elevator. It was already in service, so I waited patiently until the doors opened. I just about filled my trunks when two police officers stepped off the elevator and walked straight into me. The shorter one, a woman, was just about eye level with me and thus got a good look at my face when we collided. She muttered some sort of apology and made to step away before doing a quick doubletake and looking at me in shock. Her partner reacted quite similarly, his face morphing from annoyance to confusion to sudden realization all in one second.
I imagined my own face matched his quite well.
I reacted mere milliseconds faster then them and just as a shout made to leave the policewoman's lips, I brought a hand up before her face and snapped my fingers together. The crack of skin hitting skin echoed loudly in the hall. It startled both officers, the two of them stopping in their tracks just to stare at me with blank expressions. In return, I offered them a fake smile before stepping to the side and turning away. A moment later, the officers blinked blearily as though they both were just waking up. Then, as though they hadn't even seen me, the two officers stepped into the hall and began speaking quietly to one another whilst heading towards the exit. A moment later they were out on the street and I was sighing in both relief and weariness before entering the elevator.
Seeing through the illusions came naturally to me. Manipulating them however was a whole other ballpark, a skill I'd only just started working on when I was first arrested. At the moment, I was still unable to form my own images and force them on others. The best I could do was a quick restart of someone's brain, making them forget the last few seconds before they hurriedly went back to their business. One day, I hoped to be able to alter the illusions of others, to erase them completely and expose those who hid behind them.
A yawn escaped me.
That day wasn't coming anytime soon.
The third floor begged no description beyond aged and decrepit, and mere moments after reaching it, I was standing before my mother's apartment. My fist hovered before the glorified wooden plank that served as the apartment's door. She had been doing alright the last time she'd visited. Tired and worried, sure, but not as much as usual. Now, she was only minutes out of a conversation/interrogation with New York's Finest, and was about to be met with the son who she'd just been told was a wanted fugitive. It was impossible to gage how she might react to seeing me. Angry? Disappointed? The more rational part of my brain reminded me that qualities such as those simply did not match my mom's character. It just wasn't in her heart to be cruel. And yet, I couldn't shake that feeling that this could be it. That this would be the last straw that broke my mother's back and stole from her what little love she may have left for such a troublesome son as I.
If Mom gave up on me, if she turned me away now or even called the police back to arrest me... I don't know what I'd do.
Hands and breath shaking, I knocked lightly. It took several moments, but I eventually heard movement on the other side of the door. My heart just about stopped when it opened and I saw Sally Jackson standing there. Judging from her expression, I was willing to bet she was feeling much the same.
Her eyes were red and puffy. She'd been crying, and the guilt of that alone was enough to cripple me. The moment her eyes landed on me, the tears came back.
Just in her eyes though. Definitely not in mine.
Before I could even speak, she had swallowed me in a hug. I felt like slugging myself, doubting my mom like that. Thinking that she'd be upset or disappointed to see me. Her love for me was something I just couldn't understand but that I tried everyday to return regardless.
More so then anyone else in the world, Mom would always have my back.
I would've stood like that for hours, my mom's arms wrapped around me and filling me with a comfort that all the water in the world could only dream of providing, but she recovered her wits quicker then I did and soon was ushering me inside her apartment.
When I first started swimming for New York City, I'd anticipated that I'd only stay at Mom's apartment for a few minutes, a half hour at most. I'd go in, give Mom a rundown on my situation, tell her I loved her, and then be off with a bag of supplies and a kiss on the cheek.
It was a pretty unrealistic plan, even by my standards.
It was several hours before our conversation even began to dull and the thought of leaving entered my mind. Those hours had been spent on hugs, kisses, words of appreciation, words of admonishment, and questions that could only be answered following heavy censorship of the more gritty details on my part. By the end of it, emotional satisfaction that I hadn't felt in months circulated through my body as I sat there in a comfortable silence next to my mom on the couch. I hadn't realized just how detached I had made myself while at North York. Being able to at last just be honest and confide in my mom like the twelve year old that I was... It was nice. I knew such satisfaction couldn't last however, and I soon sat up to face my mom when she began eyeing me worriedly.
"Percy... What are you going to do?" That was the question, wasn't it? My escape had been entirely opportunistic in it's design and motivation. No thought beyond getting home had entered my mind since I'd first come to blows with Warden Charles. Sure, there was the vague idea that I would begin looking for The Warden's associates and make them give me the answers I wanted regarding me and the monsters, but that plan didn't leave me with many places to start. All I'd known when I'd beaten him into unconsciousness was that If I'd stayed at North York, I would've been left a victim to The Warden, and whatever punishments he and his so called, "Employers," had in store for me.
As for the sense that my mom had meant the question, that too was an issue. The police sent here tonight had only come to inform Mom of my escape. They'd soon be back however, probably to monitor the apartment building and to catch me if I tried returning home. The only reason they hadn't done so already was probably because they still suspected I was further up in the state. It was a good thing they didn't account for my excessive travel speed, otherwise things could've gone ugly the second I stepped into Harlem.
Ideally, I wanted to stay in New York and move regularly between the boroughs. Warden Charles had said his employers were, "Back in the city," and I assumed that meant here. But the world was not an idealistic place, and I knew I'd only have a few weeks at best before I'd have to move on and find a new place to hole up. You couldn't just beat up a building full of professional guards whilst also causing thousands of dollars in flooding damages without expecting the police to dedicate significant forces to your arrest.
Would it be best that I just got a move on now? That I leave the city, or even the state in search of somewhere more remote? But then, even If I did, that would only lead me further away from my goal of finding The Warden's employers. But if I stayed here, I'd have to worry about evading the police whilst also fending off the usual monsters, as well as whatever The Warden's employers intended to send after me now that I was on the loose. Questions, ideas, theories, and everything else my mind was ill prepared to handle at the moment flooded my thoughts like water at North York.
Mom's sudden hand atop own served quite well as a dam, and I quickly looked up to see her apologetic expression.
"Percy... It might be best for you if you turn yourself in."
"What!?" Mom flinched at my shocked tone, but tried to give me a reassuring smile.
"We won't have you sent back to North York. We can speak with the police and tell them about the abuse that's going on up there, and you can get transferred somewhere else." Mom's grip tightened as she looked at me pleadingly. I almost wanted to agree with her right then and there, so compelling was my mother's plea.
But I couldn't.
From her perspective, turning myself in was the most sensible choice. But right now, she was only working with half the story. If she was going to listen to me and agree to let me go, she'd need to hear all of it. Grimacing as I did, I brought up what I'd intentionally left out during my retelling of the day's events.
"Mom... Warden Charles didn't just attack me because he was abusive." Mom looked at me curiously. I felt guilty bringing it up, but if I didn't do so now, we'd both be a risk. "He said that I'd stolen something from his employers... And I'm pretty sure he and these employers are connected to the monsters."
As I expected, my mom's eyes widened and her breath hitched at the mention of monsters. I turned my gaze to the floor shamefully.
Mom always got like that whenever I brought up the supernatural. Twice in my life I'd tried to tell her about them as well as my powers. Both times, she had gone still and looked to be on the verge of shattering, as though something deathly important to her was about to be taken away. The first time I had been relentless, a child furious with his mom who denied the existence monsters and who couldn't understand the stress he was forcing upon her. The second time though, I realized just how much pain my mom felt having to lie to me, to deny her son that which he so desperately desired.
I knew she could see them. She knew I could as well. Yet after that second attempt, I dropped the subject and let sleeping dogs lie. If Mom was so dead set on keeping the truth from me, then she must've had her reasons. Even know though, as I brought them up for the first time in years, I could see how my statement affected her, how her mind began whirring a million miles an hour and how memories she had kept hidden began to resurface. I felt horrible bringing that upon her and causing pain, but the situation was dire and If I was going to convince her of my position, then this betrayal of our unspoken agreement was necessary.
"Unless I get out of here and keep moving, Warden Charles, his bosses, and the other monsters will be able to track me down and..." I trailed off. Even I didn't know what they'd do. Considering how desperately they wanted whatever had been stolen back though, I doubted it would be pretty. Mom had yet to react however, and seemed on the verge of once again denying my pleas for her to listen.
Hating myself for it, I pulled out my last resort.
"Mom... He also talked about my dad. He talked like he was still alive." At the mention of my father, Mom made a sudden a noise I couldn't understand. A groan of disappointment, a cry of longing, and a sigh of resignation all wrapped into one. I should've kept quiet, should've given my mom the minute she needed to compose herself after the sudden reaction, but for some reason, her reaction suddenly peeked my interest.
Why had Mom been so against the existence of monsters?
Originally, I had just assumed that it was due to her life. She was a single mom struggling to get by in New York. There was enough on her plate already, and now she'd have to take care of a son who claimed that he could see monsters? I couldn't blame her for not wanting to put up with that. But now, now I was starting to think it was something deeper than that.
Did she...
"Mom... Do you know something about all this?" She sat there another minute, hands clapped over her mouth and glassy eyes starring at the age old floor of her apartment. Then, without even looking up at me, she spoke words that I could have never expected her to.
"Percy... It's... It's time for you to go."
Her words were sudden and cruel, hurting me more than any monster or guard ever could. The worry of disownment and expulsion from before returned, and suddenly a stinging pain began to grow behind my eyes.
What perhaps made the words most hurtful however was the fact that they were true.
Between the police and the monsters, Mom wouldn't be safe so long as I was around.
Still though, to actually hear her say it...
"I... Okay." I stood on shaky legs, struggling to get words past my quivering lips that shouldn't have been quivering because I wasn't justsomestupidkidandIneededtohurryupandgetthehelloutofhere! "I'll um... I'll probably try and get out of the state. Head out West or something..."
Mom looked up from the floor with confusion in her eyes. It was erased the second her gaze met mine, and she quickly stood to envelope me in another hug. Affection washed over me, and for the second time that day, I was a son unworthy of his mother's love, doubting her after being given nothing but constant validation of her unconditional devotion to me.
"Oh, Percy, no. That's not what I meant at all." She stepped back, holding me at arms length and looking at me with the affection she saved solely for her number one boy. "If it were up to me, you'd never have to leave."
I blushed, but continued looking at her expectantly. She just shook her head with a look of sufferance. "I'll explain it to you on the way. Come on, we need to start packing."
On the way? I was confused by the sudden turn of events, but was quickly swept along by my mother towards a closet tucked away in the apartment's corner. Inside, I found most of my old stuff stacked neatly into a small pile. Reaching towards it, Mom began filling me a backpack with clothes, toiletries and other necessities. Meanwhile, I was sent to the washroom to change into a decent set of clothes.
Dark cargo pants and a plain blue t-shirt underneath a zip-up sweater. Light, unrestrictive, suitable for both hot and cold climates, it was what I usually wore during my late night prowls of the city. I would've liked to shower, to wash away the grime that had stuck to me in the Upper Bay, but judging from what my mom said, we didn't have the liberty of time. Changed and at last looking like a semi-normal tweenage boy, I walked out of the cramped washroom to find Mom waiting for me with two bags. The first was a knapsack stuffed completely to the brim. The other...
"Here. You're going to need... This." She handed me an old trunk, the British kind. It was large and cumbersome, it's contents rattling around loudly as I carefully took it from my mom. The No-Mentioning-Monsters-Rule from earlier? It extended to anything referencing that trunk. It was where I kept my proof of the world beyond our own, alongside trophies, memoirs, and other such things of a supernatural nature.
If she was telling me to bring it, then Mom must've known what was in it.
I took the heavy trunk mutely while slinging the knapsack over my shoulder. Mom grabbed her purse and a minute later we were street side. We hailed a cab and I loaded my stuff in the trunk, American version this time, while Mom spoke with the driver. A crack of thunder ripped through the sky and I looked up. A storm had been brewing since I'd made it out of North York. Seemed it was finally here.
"Percy, are you ready?" My mom was halfway into the car and looking at me expectantly.
"Yeah." Slamming the trunk shut, I slid into the backseat alongside her. A moment later, we were pulling away from the sidewalk and driving through Manhattan. I spared a glance behind us. No cop cars, but that didn't mean we weren't being followed. I glanced to the rooftops and, for the briefest second, I thought I saw something move on top of my mom's apartment building. Lightning flashed and I was blinded. By the time my sight returned, whatever had been there was gone.
I tried not to let it unnerve me, but couldn't help but readjust my seat belt a bit tighter.
The streets of New York never saw rest. Even in the heat of a thunder storm and at one in the morning, headlights bleared and horns honked incessantly. Our driver was right up there with the rest of his impatient coworkers, honking away and rolling his window down regularly to shout in his stereotypically Brooklyn accent. I spent most of the first leg of the drive just starring out the window, partly reminiscing on familiar scenery, partly looking for people tailing us, partly just trying to figure out where the hell we were going. Oddly, Mom seemed to be doing the same thing, gazing out her own window with a nervous glint in her eyes. I knew she must've still been on edge from the avalanche of information I'd just dumped on her, and so kept quite for the first leg of the journey, if only to give her a bit of time to settle herself.
When we crossed a bridge to end up on Long Island however, I found my curiosity too strong to be leashed by common decency.
"Where are we going?" I didn't bother keeping my voice down. The driver was playing the radio pretty loud, so I wasn't too concerned with being overheard. Mom didn't meet my eyes, still looking out the window in search of... of anything I guess.
"We're going to a..." She seemed to hesitate with her answer. "A camp."
"...A camp?" I tried to keep the snark out of my voice. Judging from how her grip tightened on her purse though, I could tell my mom was being serious. "What do you mean a camp? Like, a campsite where I can hide out or something?"
"No, it's a real camp, one made for kids like you. You'll be safe there." Despite the positive endorsement she was apparently giving the camp, Mom's tone suggested she held some misgivings with the place. "Before you were born, your father told me I could take you there if you were ever in danger."
My dad?
I chewed on my lip and turned back to my window, partly in confusion, partly in anger.
My dad had died just after I was born. Mom always said he had been, "Lost at sea," but I'd figured out what that meant sometime ago. I thought I had anyway. Now, my father had been brought up more times in the last twenty-four hours then he had in the last twelve years. That couldn't have been for no reason. Again, my thoughts drifted to my mom and the reasons she must've had for denying the existence of monsters for the past twelve years.
"Does my dad have something to do with all this?" It was a possibility I had only ever put a marginal amount of belief into. That my powers and conflict with the monsters had been inherited from my dead father. It was a child's dream, the stock template for a blockbuster movie. But fate had always been cruel to me, and I wouldn't put it past the unseen force to throw something as unoriginal as that my direction. "Did he know about the monsters too?"
Mom sighed. "Percy, please can we-
"You could see them this whole time, couldn't you?" I tore off the band-aid quickly. We were working on limited time, we were in a secluded space, and the tension in the car was already palpable. If ever there was a time for Mom to tell me the truth, now was it.
She didn't answer my question immediately, My mom keeping her gaze locked on the window and leaving me waiting in agonizing silence. We passed over a bump and the vehicle jostled. The driver swore, but Mom didn't pay it any mind and just told him to take the upcoming left. We were know entering the more forested part of Long Island, and I was beginning to grow more and more uneasy with each passing tree. "Mom, please..."
That got a reaction from her. At last she turned from the window to look at me. It was strange just how many new emotions I was seeing in my mom's eyes today. Resignation and defeat filled her gaze as she looked at me. My mom had never given up on anything that I knew of, so to see that it was ME causing her to look that way...
"...Yes, Percy." A brief moment passed, and I didn't move an inch as it did. How was I supposed to react to that? I wanted to be happy to hear her say it, to celebrate the fact that AT LAST my mom acknowledged the world I had known for years. But I couldn't. It wasn't so simple."
"...The-The monsters, the illusions, the water-
"Yes, Percy, I can see all of it."
I kept her gaze for another moment before collapsing into the cheap cushioning of my seat. Was I angry? Relived? Bitter? I didn't know.
"This whole time... Why didn't you tell me?" Years of self-doubt, self-resentment, self-denial. Years spent hiding my exhaustion and injuries when I stepped into the apartment. Years thinking Mom might secretly hate me because I caused her so much pain. It was all bubbling up to the surface and I couldn't suppress the harsh, accusative tone that rose up with them.
"Percy... I'm... I'm sorry." Tears welled in Mom's eyes, and any anger I held for her immediately vanished. "I know it must've hurt you but... I couldn't tell you the truth. If I did then you would've had to..."
She looked away, angry and ashamed, and all I could do was stare at her blankly.
I loved my mom, unconditionally and without reserve. She was the sole reason I'd first taken my vow of violence against all monsters. But at the same time, a part of myself had always resented her. It disgusted me to admit it, but it was true. Every night I snuck out of the apartment, fighting creatures that were unfathomable in both strength and design. Every night, I sought out the beasts in the shadows rather than play the fool and ignore them. Every night, I risked my life for my mom, and she refused to acknowledge it. All this time, I thought she was just refusing to save herself peace of mind. But now, seeing her on the verge of a complete breakdown, I realized just how aware of this other world my mom really was. I also saw just how much it had hurt her to keep it from me.
Only now did I realize just how much pain Mom been hiding as well.
"Mom..." I laid my hand atop hers, trying to think of something, anything I could say to console her.
My hair stood on end, ozone filled the air, a flash of light surrounded me on all sides.
"Look ou-" The lightning bolt crashed down in front of the car just as I shouted to the driver. We went swerving off the road, flipping over once we left pavement. The next few seconds were entirely indescribable, nothing but a cacophony of loud noises and heavy jostling. When we eventually came to a stop, it still took me another minute to properly right myself and get moving. Luckily, it seemed we had landed right side up.
"Mom," I cried out, looking around the taxi for her. She had remained in her seat next to me throughout the crash. I froze when I saw blood seeping from a cut on her forehead, but a quick check of her pulse confirmed that she was only unconscious. I wouldn't be able to do much for her from this position though, and so I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt and kicked open the door. Thunder clapped above me when I stepped out of the cab. It was constant now, lighting up the sky and echoing out above every few seconds at the least. It was a fact I was actually thankful for. This deep in the woods, there were no street lamps or neon lights. My sight was pretty good, both at distance and in the dark, but even I would've been blind if it weren't for the constant flashes of lightning and the cab's busted headlights. We were still in the same secluded part of the woods, nothing but trees and a shoddy road as far as the eye could see. In the distance however, I could just make out a tall hill with a surprisingly large pine tree standing secluded at it's top.
For some reason, I felt like the tree was calling to me.
Regardless, I ignored the call made to walk around the taxi to my mom's side when I heard a noise from the opposite direction of the tree. It was loud and beast like, something between a roar and, oddly enough, the moo of a cow. I paused and looked towards the direction it came from. Something was walking towards me through the dark. As it got closer, I swear I could make out the sound of hooves clopping loudly against the road. My pulse began to quicken, and soon made my way to the back of the car.
Whatever was coming, It wasn't something I intended to meet unarmed.
I struggled with the trunk for a moment, but it eventually popped open, revealing both my backpack and my own, smaller trunk. Clicking in the latches that kept it shut, the heavy suitcase sprung open. Skins, feathers, limbs, and an assortment of items that couldn't even be accurately described. All that and more now lay out before me, the culmination of my many battles with the supernatural. Gingerly pushing my trophies to the side, I reached further into the trunk, pulling out a strange pair of weapons a minute later.
A lesson I had to learn the hard way: Normal weapons didn't work on monsters.
Knives and metal pipes just passed right through them. Sticks and pool cues were better, but not perfect. They could at least touch monsters, but broke quickly and could never land a killing blow. It had taken me plenty of encounters, but I'd eventually come to the realization that the best method of fighting monsters, was to use their own gear against them.
In my hands now were some of the only weapons I had that could actually put down a monster for good. In my right, an aluminum baseball bat which was sleek in it's design. If it weren't for the hideous snake skin I'd wrapped around the business end which ensured contact with the supernatural, it may have made a decent collectable. In my left, I clutched a makeshift knife in a reverse grip. The blade itself was really just a large, curved tooth, one I'd torn straight from the mouth of a monstrous dog. It was superglued and duck taped to the handle of a busted ping pong paddle.
A strange roar once again broke the silence of the night, this one far closer then the first. I tucked away my knife and took a practice swing with my bat before stepping out from behind the car. The taxi had landed with the headlights facing the road, and so I was silhouetted by light when I came to a stop atop the poorly paved asphalt.
I still couldn't quite make out what was coming my way, but as it got closer, a bead of sweat rolled down my neck. I readjusted my grip on the bat.
To say the day's events had left me exhausted would be an understatement. I'd been fighting, running, swimming, and looking all over my shoulder since I'd woken up this morning. My stomach felt hollow, a byproduct of the fact I hadn't eaten since the night before. I was still a bit dizzy from the crash. The thunderclouds above continued to rumble, but they produced no rain and were thus of little use to me. I sent a silent prayer towards them, asking whoever was up above to bless me with just a few drops of water.
Somehow though, I knew whoever was listening had no intention to obliging
Every factor that could've been against me was.
I just shook my head.
Adrenaline had gotten me this far. I was curious to see just how much further it would take me.
With my nerves now steeled, I began walking forward just as my opponent stepped into the light.
He was easily seven feet tall. Two large horns grew out either side of his head, easily adding another half foot onto his already impressive stature. His muscles, bulging and vein covered, would have easily put to shame any pro bodybuilder. He was covered in black fur that I assumed had been glossy once, but was now covered in dirt and muck. Oddly however, the white briefs he'd chosen to wear into battle were pristinely clean. I couldn't help but let out a laugh when I saw them. The creature didn't take kindly to that however, and let out a beastly roar from his bull shaped head
The Minotaur.
Most of the monsters I'd in my life fought had been nameless, terrible creatures I'd never have been able to conjure up in my wildest dreams. Thus, it was pretty surreal to actually come across one I was already familiar with.
The Minotaur let out a snort and continued walking towards me. I slapped my bat against the ground in response.
This behemoth before me was an entirely more dangerous opponent then Warden Charles. Bigger, tougher, and probably far more experienced in combat then some glorified babysitter. Comparing him to The Warden was nothing less then an insult. Strangely however, rather then be intimidated by the promise of a tougher opponent, facing The Minotaur filled me with an odd sense of comfort.
It was my first REAL fight in half a year.
I rolled my shoulders with a grin.
I wouldn't have to hold back.
The Minotaur's hooves clopped loudly against the road, echoing out into the shrouded forest. My sneakers meanwhile were living up to their name as we drew ever closer to one another. Thunder roared once more from above. Taking it as a signal, the bull began picking up speed, arms and legs soon pumping like pistons. I matched his sprint, gripping my bat around the middle and holding it steady. Within moments we were metres apart and seconds from impact. He bowed his head, now committed to running me down. Then, just as his horns lined up to skewer my stomach, I pushed off the asphalt. I planted one foot on his skull and again pushed off. Using his body like a springboard, I leapt once more into the air, vaulting over the beast and landing in a controlled roll.
The Minotaur's landing wasn't so graceful.
My sudden weight on back had sent him off balance and careening dangerously forward. His own bulk on top of his speed and angle did the rest of the work, sending the Minotaur crashing into the ground and skidding painfully across the road. Coming to a stop after several agonizing seconds, The Minotaur let out something between a roar and a groan whilst struggling to get up.
I didn't give him the chance.
My bat cracked loudly against The Minotaur's large head, sending him back down to the ground in a dazed heap. I struck him once more after that, then again, and again, and again. His neck, spine, ankles, knees, elbows, wrists. Anywhere that was vital to his ability to fight was quickly crippled and rendered useless. With each strike the beast cried in rage, but overtime the roars dwindled from proud roars of defiance into the pathetic cries of a dying animal. I didn't let up.
This creature wasn't like the boys of Block-C, or the guards of North York, or even Oliver Charles. It wasn't human. It was a monster.
It didn't deserve any pity.
Another minute passed like that, the forest silent save for the sound of aluminum hitting flesh and The Minotaur's weakening cries. Only when my arms were too sore to continue and my lunges struggled to bring in air did I finally stop. What had once been a legendary beast of mythological history was now little more then a limp pile of tenderized steak, groaning pathetically at the feet of a twelve year old boy. Catching my breath, I twisted my bat around to look it over. Even wrapped up as it was in the skin of another monster, my primary weapon proved unable to deal a finishing blow. I let it fall from my hands and clatter against the ground next to The Minotaur's head. He flinched at that, and I couldn't help the grin that spread across my lips.
Reaching down, I settled one hand on a horn and another on my makeshift knife. With a grunt of effort, I lifted the Minotaur's head and pressed my demonic tooth against his neck. It was a rough death, having your throat cut out.
It was exactly what this thing deserved.
A loud screech burst through the night, startling me just as my blade broke the skin of the bull's neck. I turned towards the sound, but lightning flashed and thunder boomed. I was disoriented, and in that small window of opportunity, something fast and heavy crashed against my skull. I went flying, and after several seconds spent airborne, landed hard on the asphalt. I'd landed on my back, and so had a good view of the storm clouds rumbling above me. Both my mind and instincts screamed at me to get up, but I was still out of it and the message to my body was lost. All I could manage was to crane my head to face the direction of my sudden attacker.
The Minotaur was letting out another roar of pain, sprawled flat against the ground and unable to raise. That however wasn't just due to my earlier beating.
Atop the Minotaur stood an enormous eagle. It's feathers were pure white from top to bottom, accentuating it's golden eyes and talons well. It's hooked beak would've too been such a colour, if not for the dark red smears which covered it from tip to base. It was dried, but there was no mistaking the stain for anything other then blood. It's body easily dwarfed the Minotaur. Taking into account it's humongous wing span, this beast was probably just a few inches smaller then one of those new F-22 fighter jets. Looking it over again, I realized I'd seen this bird before. It was one of the many monsters that had watched me back at North York. I'd never gotten a clear picture of it though, The Eagle always staying above the clouds so that I only caught odd glimpses of it every now and then. I'd always been curious to see what it had looked like up close.
Laying prone before it now, I could've shot my past for wanting such an idiotic thing.
The Eagle stood unflinchingly atop The Minotaur, a single talon casually pinning the beast to the ground. It hardly seemed proud of that position however, not even bothering to look upon the legendary monster beneath it. Instead, It's eyes were focused solely on me. They were calculating, analyzing. Just looking in it's eyes, I could tell this creature was different from the rest.
Waiting for me to wear myself down on The Minotaur, striking in time with the thunderstorm.
This bird wasn't just relying on natural instinct.
This bird was smart.
Give me monsters that dwarf me in size, terrors from the darkest places on earth, beasts who's designs could only be conjured by the deranged and depraved. Give them to me a thousand times over, and I'd still rather fight them then a weak bodied creature that knows how to use it's brain. They were the dangerous ones. They were the one's kept me up a night. They knew what they were doing, and they enjoyed doing it.
The Minotaur let out yet another pitiful roar of anger. The Eagle didn't even bother looking down. It merely flexed it's talon, and a moment later, the son of Pasiphae burst into dust.
Fear I hadn't felt in a long time grew within my chest.
Nonetheless, I made to stand up. A dizzy spell quickly sent me back to the dirt. A lump grew on my head where The Eagle had hit me, and it was draining blood quickly. I squeezed my palm against the wound with a hiss and rose up on shaky feet. The Eagle meanwhile had begun stalking towards me, wings folded and talons clicking loudly against the road. It would've been comical if I hadn't been the one it was walking towards.
Then, just as I stood up, It spread it's wings to catch a passing gust of wind. Within an instant he was soaring towards me, and I only had time to suck in a breath before the massive creature slammed me against the road. It's weight crashed down atop me all at once, pinning me to the ground and rendering me as immobile as The Minotaur had been only moments ago. It's talons had landed on either side of me and pinned my arms to the ground. Trapped, I could only look up at The Eagle and it's discolored beak. I pitied the poor soul who had been responsible for painting it such a terrifying colour. It's neck tensed and I reacted by shooting my head to the side. It's beak cracked through the pavement a moment later, leaving a creator in the road where my face had just been. It's head was now next to me, and I looked deeply into it's large, intelligent brown eye.
It met my stare with an evil glint.
I quickly matched it with one of my own.
I threw my weight upwards, swinging my legs into the air and wrapping them around The Eagle's neck just as it pulled it's head back. I felt a tug on my arms. The Eagle's talons were large, and clearly meant for hunting bigger game then a twelve year old's scrawny limbs. A moment later, my arms were free and wrapping themselves around the humongous bird's neck. I squeezed hard, trying to put pressure on it's airway. It's neck was thick as a tree though, and so all my sleeper hold achieved was to allow myself better purchase on The Eagle's body.
This of course did end up being helpful with what came next.
With a sudden beat of it's wings, the white eagle took to the sky. Within seconds I was no less then 100 feet off the ground and still climbing. I wrapped my limbs tighter, less as a means of attacking the bird and more for my own safety. We continued like that for another minute or so, the Eagle climbing higher whilst I hung on for dear life. Then out of nowhere, our ascent came to a stop just below the black and rumbling cloud cover. We hung for only a single instant, but it felt as though it could've lasted forever. Then, The Eagle folded it's wings and turned its body to face downwards. Dread filled me as a bolt of realization struck my mind. I tightened my grip and prayed it would be enough.
We began plummeting towards the ground faster then I could process. Through squinted eyes, I could see Long Island quickly approaching. Again, I wrapped myself tighter around The Eagle's neck, but I doubted that it would be enough. Either the Eagle was planning on flinging me off it's breast by suddenly pulling up at the last second, or I was about to be shown one hell of a Kamikaze impression. Either way, I was only seconds out from becoming a red smear on the asphalt.
My bat had long since been discarded, and I'd dropped my knife during The Eagle's surprise attack.
Thus, I was left with only one weapon left in my arsenal.
It was a long shot. I wasn't even sure it worked on monsters, my test subjects up to this point all having been humans. Given the circumstances however, it seemed that now would be as good a time as any to find out if it did.
400 feet... 300 feet... 200 feet...
Mere seconds from impact, I brought my hand up just next to The Eagle's eye and snapped.
I could barely hear the sound over the roaring wind, but The Eagle's pupil successfully diluted. For a moment, the raptor's controlled dive transformed an unceremonious fall as the huge creature began tilting off balance, unfocused and unaware of it's slowly approaching doom. A moment later, it's eye's flew open and the bird let out a frightened shriek. I took a deep breath and held on tight.
The Eagle was valiant in it's effort to pull up. It spread it's wings wide, bracing them against the wind in a way that would've surely snapped any other bird's appendages due to the pressure. Still, all that managed to do was change our course from 90 degrees straight down to a still not-quite-fit-for-landing angle of 45 degrees. Realizing the futility of it's struggle only a scant few feet from the road, The Eagle resolved itself to it's fate, balling up on itself and bracing for impact.
All according to plan.
Plus side: I was flat against The Eagle's chest and thus was protected on all sides during the initial stages of the crash.
Bad side: The initial stages of the crash comprised roughly one and a half seconds, and so I was quickly thrown off the creature to be sent tumbling down the road. My brain having had it with being jostled for the umpteenth time that day, I blacked out.
I don't know how much later it was when I woke up, but thunder still roared above me, so I guessed it wasn't long.
Every muscle, bone, and fibre of my being did their best to tell how me stupid of an idea it was, but I nonetheless found myself standing up from the ground. Luckily, I'd landed on the side of the road rather then on hard stone. Dirt, mud, and grass stains covered my clothes. As for my limbs and face, I'd survived the crash with only minimal scrapes and bruises. A throb against my skull reminded me of the gash made earlier, but I shook it off and surveyed my surroundings. If I was still alive, there was a good chance The Eagle was too.
Sure enough, it was.
The Eagle had landed quite far away from me. It lay prone on the ground, breathing haggardly and struggling to rise. A chuckle rose from my lips, exploding quickly into a full bodied laugh.
"That sure worked out for ya, eh!?" I couldn't help but mock the creature as it continued to right itself on the ground. Pain, exhaustion, and stress had been building within me all day. The Minotaur had originally served as a good means of flushing out those negative emotions, but The Eagle's sudden appearance had brought all of them rushing back, and thus I was yet again in desperate need of another outlet.
And at the moment, the dying animal before me seemed a good source for catharsis.
Down the road behind me, the cab's headlights still flickered off and on. We hadn't landed very far from where we took off, and so after a minute of looking, I found my trusted knife and began making my way towards The Eagle. The winged beast did it's best to fix me with an intimidating glare, but I could see past it. It was afraid of me, afraid of what I would do once I reached it.
The Eagle had been an opponent worthy of respect throughout the entire fight. It was respectful, treating me as a real threat even after it had landed its earlier sneak attack and rendered me immobile. It was intelligent, a seasoned hunter that had no doubt perfected its technique over dozens of years and hundreds of encounters. It was proud, the bird struggling to rise not so that it could escape, but instead so that it could continue to fight me.
By all accounts, despite being a monster, this great white eagle before me was a noble beast.
It deserved a proper death.
I had no intentions to give it such.
"Percy?"
And just like that, my bravado and confidence blew away with the wind.
For a haunting second I was still. Then, I turned my gaze back down the road towards the direction of the cab. My mom had emerged from the wreckage, a hand on her head and a bleariness to her eyes. She looked towards me, her confusion morphing into worry. A moment later, the confusion returned as she looked over my shoulder. I remembered myself and quickly spun around, expecting The Eagle to be right on top of me. Yet when I turned and swung, my knife was met nothing but empty space. The Eagle remained hunched over on the ground, still wounded and still very much not a threat to myself. But it's eyes had changed.
It was no longer looking at me in defiance. Now, It was looking past me, dark eyes settling sickeningly on Mom. Then, slowly, it turned its gaze once more on me.
Looking it in the eye, I realized I'd been mistaken in my analysis of The Eagle. It wasn't a noble creature, nor an intelligent beast. It was an animal, an animal faced with the oncoming storm and searching desperately for an olive branch on which to perch itself. Looking back at my mom, I realized The Eagle had found it's branch. It shouldn't have been possible for a bird to do, but in that moment, just as the vast creature rose to its full height and extended its wings in a vein display of pride, that damn eagle smirked.
Before I even registered it, my worn sneakers were beating furiously against the road as I ran towards my mom.
"Run!" I waved my arms furiously and shouted as loud as I could. My mom caught on quickly, turning around and running down the road towards that large pine tree I'd seen earlier. I wanted to yell at her, to scream for her to run towards me, or the trees, or towards any direction that wasn't a wide open space, but I didn't have the time and simply kept running.
I couldn't outrun The Eagle. It was simply a fact. It was desperate, it was determined, and it could fly at a speed my sneakers couldn't hope to match.
But still I ran, because my mom was in danger and I NEEDED TO SAVE HER.
50 feet. 40 feet. With each second I grew closer to her. My mom was moving well for a women her age and size, but I was outrunning her handedly and would be upon her in seconds. It occurred to me then that the case was very much the same for The Eagle behind me, and I willed my legs to move faster.
30 feet. 20 feet. I could hear flapping wings and roaring wind behind me. The fear I'd felt earlier returned. This time though, it wasn't fear for my own life.
Mom had nearly reached the tree. She turned to face me, eyes full of fear. Much like my own though, her fear was spared for the life of another rather then herself
Ridiculous, stupid, idiotic.
Why are you worried about me! You're about to die! Save yourself!
I was strong, and didn't need you to worry about me!
...So why are you looking at me like that?
Five feet away. I reached at hand out.
She did as well.
Lightning flashed once more, and the last image I saw before I was blinded was my own outstretched hand grazing against Mom's.
When my vision returned, the grotesque yellow talon of The Eagle had wrapped around my mother's chest and torn her violently from the ground. Her body snapped to the side like a rag doll. She cried out in pain.
It sounded as though the world itself was shattering.
"MOM!" I shouted, cried, begged for her to come back, screaming until my lips bled and my throat went horse. But The Eagle and my mother kept on moving further away, raising above the great pine tree before us and drawing closer to the thundering sky above. Soon, they were nothing more than a white dot against a sea of black clouds.
Then... They were gone.
That's Chapter 2 ladies and gents, hope you enjoyed it.
I had a good time writing the first and third parts of this chapter, but the middle section had me stumped for a while. Dialogue isn't my strong suit, and I was having a hard time writing it whilst also making Percy's connection with his Mom seem realistic in it's depth. So uh, sorry if that middle section came off as a little bit rushed/forced. If and when my writing improves to a point where I'm comfortable doing it, I promise to come back a rewrite that section.
Other then that though, I hope you all enjoyed this Chapter as much as the first, and that you keep on reading to the third.
I'd also like to take a moment to thank everyone who fav'd, followed, and reviewed last chapter. Your input and support gives me massive amounts of motivation to keep on writing.
See ya.