Percy looked up at the monstrosity in fear. This was the moment he had always dreaded: meeting the devil himself. But here he was with his fellow candidates, standing before Satan.
It was not all too pretty either, three pairs of eyes looking at the group which now only a hundred or so remained from the original thousand or so children.
Percy was pretty scared as all six eyes laid on him.
"So this is the great Perseus Jackson, hmm? The one who defeated Cain single-handedly? The 'One' as he put it?" All three faces spoke simultaneously.
"He is, my Lord." A voice spoke from behind the group. There, stood a man Percy couldn't recognise, but his voice Percy definitely would be able to.
The man looked to be aged towards the end of prime years; his long, black and grey hair was slicked back finely as he stood there in full battle armour. A ragged scar carried down his left eye, causing the iris and pupils to be white. The armour itself seemed to suck in the light around him and his helmet seemed to be the face of horrific death as it was held under his right arm. There was a long five-foot sword strapped to his back, the blade curved near the tip like the Persian Scimitars and was an extremely dark green, almost black, and the hilt had numerous rubies, diamonds and lapis lazuli embedded in it. The weapon truly was beautiful, a piece of art greater than that of Leonardo da Vinci himself. In his left hand was another sword, but the blade was only short – like two feet long. It was very different from most weapons, it seemed to be a jaw bone, including the hilt. But it was hard to see which animal it was harvested from.
"Cain?" Fear laced Percy's voice as he said that name.
The man nodded, flipping his short sword in his left hand.
"But how? You melted away and stuff!" Percy's eyes were bugging as he also scrambled for his sword, ready to fight.
"You defeated a mortal host. This is my true form, as when I died." Cain simply said, taking a few steps forward and nodding his head in the direction of Lucifer.
Percy turned his attention back to the towering beast as all six eyes were fixated on him.
"So, Candidates, what is your task may I ask?" Lucifer asked, his eyes not leaving Percy.
"The Sword of Enoch." Percy announced.
The Devil shared a glance with Cain. "Enoch's sword can only be touched by one being without being driven to insanity. Even my son was, and resulted in him splitting into two. If so, who shall wield the blade?" Cain asked, raising his bone-sword slightly.
"Whoever reaches it first. Because they will become a Knight of Hell and join you." Percy said simply.
"You will be chucked in a suicide mission up on Earth or be chucked down here. Neither are pleasant, I'll tell you that now. So, children, how do you plan to get down there?" Cain shook his head, drawing his massive sword with his right hand.
"We fight?" A candidate stupidly suggested.
Cain's eye darkened. "If you so wish, fool." He threw the jaw bone and it ripped through the air at unbelievable speeds. With unfaultable accuracy, the blade was hilt deep in the boy's skull. The Father of Murder flicked his wrist and the blade flew over to him from the boy's skull and landed in his head, coated in crimson blood.
"What the bloody Hell was that about?! You didn't need to kill him!" Percy cried out, shocked at how effortlessly Cain had dispatched of the boy. Even worse, there was a strange glint in the Knight's eyes: the eyes of a psychopath.
"Then choose correctly, Candidates. How will you leave this place and collect the Mythical Sword of Enoch?" Cain glowered, flipping his strange short-sword/knife.
"We simply walk out of here. No more blood to be spilt." Percy held his hands up in a stop motion, and Cain grinned sadistically.
"You're not the one." He snarled, and threw his knife in Percy's direction. Time appeared to slow down as the weapon approached Percy, and his eyes widened. He moved to the side as the blade cut through the air. As it soured past Percy, he reached his hand out and grasped onto the hilt of the blade. It suddenly stopped and black energy arched out of the weapon, encasing Percy's forearm in darkness.
"What the bloody Hell are you? No mortal can control what not even God or Satan can." Cain was taken back by Percy catching his weapon in mid air, and it was almost effortless. That scared Percy.
"Then I'm not mortal, am I?" Percy grinned darkly, his eyes darkening until they were completely twelve-year-old turned to the towering being once more, no fear in his eyes. "Now, I think we all need a way down. So..." As the Devil reached down to grab Percy, his hand was sliced wide open along with his abdomen. A angelic white-blue light filled up the cavern, blinding Cain and Lucifer himself.
But not Percy.
"Go!" He thundered, and all of the Candidates looked at Percy like he was insane. But in the end, with a flick of a wrist, they all went tumbling down onto Satan's shag-carpet fur for a fun slide.
"Take your blade back." Percy snarled at Cain and threw the blade at Cain, watching with glee as it sunk into his shoulder, almost ripping his arm off. And with that, he said "Cheerio." And jumped into the hole, right after his fellow Candidates. The shadow left Percy, darting down into the abyss below.
The Demon Rites
Gold and marble structures were built high and mighty upon this mountain among the clouds. It lingered above the Island of Manhattan, and the only known entrance to Olympus was through a service elevator in the Empire State Building.
This mountain was known as Mount Olympus, home to the Greek pagan gods such as Zeus, Poseidon, Apollo and of the liking. It was home to all immortal deities from the Greek myths, along with many shrines for fallen heroes. For example, near Zeus' temple there was a shrine to his demigod son Perseus, one of the first demigods recorded in existence.
At the highest peak of the mountain was an enormous structure built out of marble columns and each were lined with gold. This was the Olympian Council room, where all meetings took place.
Inside there were fourteen people. Enormous chairs sat men and women each 8-12 feet tall, the seats arranged in a U-shape around the edge of the room. At the centre of this U was a man and women. Both of these seats were more spectacular than the rest of the seats; the man wore a purple pin-stripe suit, most likely Gucci. He had long hair and an outgrown beard. His hair was raven black, but did have the odd grey streak in it. His eyes were a startling electric blue, both pulsing with unknown amounts of energy.
The woman next to him was most likely his wife. She wore a gown made of peacock feathers, and her long brown hair was held up in a bun by more peacock feathers.
The seated people went on, which were the Olympian Council. A smaller seat sat a man surrounded in shadows. His eyes were pitch black – evil, if not, and his skin was pale white as if he had just been dug up. He wore a ratty black cloak, and on his lap sat a black and red helmet which pulsed with darkness. In the centre of the throne room sat a young girl, only around 8 years of age. She had a stick in her left hand and poked at the burning hearth in the centre of the throne room. This young girl's eyes held power – more than all of the men and women sat in the council combined. But she refused to show it, wearing a hooded black gown over her lithe, frail form of a child.
She was Hestia, the eldest child of the Titan Kronos, a eternal maiden who lacked any contact with the outside word unlike her brethren. She was eager for a child, to hold it in her arms and watch it as it grew into an adult. One that would call her 'mummy', a distraction from her eternal life of boredom. Only would she fade when the last ember of Olympus died out. And that would not be for a long time.
The king in the Gucci suit was her youngest brother, Zeus. The outcast in the small black chair was her eldest brother, Hades. Her brother Poseidon was allowed in the council at all times because Poseidon couldn't betray; he was too loyal to be able to do that.
The throne doors opened, and a group of children slowly filed in. Hestia smiled and beckoned them over to sit at the Hearth, where they would go unnoticed by Zeus and the other Olympians. A centaur followed them in, bowing his head as all eyes turned to him as his hooves clapped against the marble floor. The gods continued the meeting as Chiron greeted Hestia quietly. They spoke briefly, and Hestia drew them all in. "My palace is open to you demigods this year. This tour will be finished tomorrow morning due to your delays of coming here."
All of the young demigods nodded. All except one.
The boy who didn't nod looked around the mid teens, 16 at the earliest, and had sandy blonde hair along with a ragged scar running through his left eye. He glared around the throne room, his eyes often returning to where they would often look: the Big Three's symbols of power: Zeus' bolt, Poseidon's Trident and Hades' Helm of Darkness.
He did, however, smile weakly at the young girl by his side. She was around 12 years old, and clung to him like cling film. She was small, only coming up to his chest. She had blonde hair tied up into a high pony tail, and in her tiny hands she fumbled with a knife and a Yankees cap.
Hestia stared at the two through the Hearth, images playing in the flames. The boy stood over the girl as she bled out, before he was clashing with a shadowed figure. The child goddess couldn't shake the image of golden eyes. But it was impossible. They were his only children; the seven of them: Hestia, Hades, Demeter, Poseidon, Hera, Zeus and then Chiron. How could this boy have golden eyes? Even if it was a mere possibility.
The goddess moved through the group of demigods, and grabbed onto the boy's arm. "Lucas Castellan, you should end this path you walk. It will only have one end." Hestia pleaded, her orange eyes shining with hope that he would take heed to her words.
"What needs to be done will be done, child." He snapped at the eldest child of Kronos, and she nodded.
"Then finish your dark path. But many shall die unnecessarily due to your foolish actions." Hestia warned before returning to the other side of the Hearth, where she continued to stoke the fire as she watched through the flames as this shadowy figure looked directly at her, a pair of dark sea green eyes glaring through the fire as if they were there. They were staring at her.
"You will not survive what comes..." A voice came from the eyes and then they disappeared - just like that.
This had shaken the goddess up lots. What had she just seen?
The Demon Rites
TIP
TAP
SMASH!
Luke Castellan ducked down low as he reached for the Helm of Darkness. Slyly, it shrunk down enough so that it could fit him and he placed it in his satchel. He then crept away from Hades' quarters during his short stay on Olympus before he visited a certain thunderhead.
In the bedroom lay Zeus, broken goblets littering the room along with some highly expensive jewellery, signifying that the King and Queen of the gods had had yet another bust up. And she had the spare bedroom or the couch. Maybe even another palace. Luke opened up a wardrobe and there rested the Master Bolt in all of its glory.
He was quick, placing a slightly smaller bolt crackling with energy in the place of the real bolt. His work done, he left and entered the Palace of Poseidon. Knowing his luck, the sea god had returned to his Palace in Atlantis.
Still, he hit the jackpot and left with all three of the Big Three's symbols of power. This would definitely spark World War III when they start throwing punches at one another, accusations of theft flying so much that none of the council would be able to withstand.
Every little piece was falling into place.
The Demon Rites
That's a wrap! Sorry about the short length, but if I added what I wanted to this wouldn't have been released until New Years. And I promised a Christmas update, so here it is!
Anyway, as a few of you guys know I've been going through a rough patch this past year. But its slowly clearing up (ish). However, I'm saying this now: I'm a 16 year old kid, I live in England and this is the year where we take the dreadful GCSEs. January I have a bunch of mocks, and from then on I have nothing but constant revision piled on top of even more revision. This puts FanFiction at the bottom of the radar.
Trust me, if there was an option where I could do this forever and flip my school the bird I would do that in a heartbeat, but I can't. I need grades to actually get somewhere in life and not scrounge off the government. Actually, fuck this talk.
I hope all you guys have a wicked, legendary New Year! BUT most importantly, I wish all of you guys a Merry Christmas.
Goodnight! Or good morning (which ever one you guys prefer)!
Until next time fellas! Next stop: Knocking Santa's sleigh!
~The Prince of Souls
*Five minutes later*
"FUCKING SNOW DAMMIT!"
