Chapter 2: An Unholy Combo: Snake Hags and a Nudist Terrorist
Rachel, sleep-deprived in her hello kitty pajamas, shuffled her way down the salsa aisle like a stubborn toddler. The harsh fluorescent lights bathed her form as if she were trapped within some alien spaceship while the red sale tags glowed like neon stop signs as if to warn her of more bad luck to come. Her nerves grew ever more agitated by the second, annoyance increasing tenfold at the sound of Karens arguing over the promiscuity of a mermaid yogurt brand.
She sighed in frustration.
If only her cousin hadn't trashed the house last night with his impromptu party, then she wouldn't be awake at six in the morning for damn cleaning supplies. Sneaking by a familiar group of snickering teens, Rachel finally reached the Clorox section. The primary colors and bold fonts were arranged in such a way to appeal to the customer's senses, but she wasn't fooled. Being the cheapskate she was, the $1.99 one would do just fine. As the juvenile giggles and curses grew louder in volume, she quickly snatched her item and turned to escape their obnoxious presence.
But just then, a glint of gold catches the corner of her eye and she abruptly stops in her tracks. A lone playing card was wedged in the far back of a high shelf, its dainty etchings glistening from within the shadows. A sudden curiosity overcomes her: the sort of compulsion that excites the bloodstream and sends shivers down your spine. She dislodges it with little patience, holding it close to her face. It looked similar to those Yugioh cards she used to collect, just far more. . . antiquated.
She was giddy though. As a lover for all things old and pretty, it suited her taste to a T.
Quickly shoving a pack of tissue paper in her shopping basket, Rachel ignored the hollerings of her high school peers, and rushed to the toy aisle. She intended to find the deck from which the card originated, but five minutes stretched to twenty with no sign of progress. No sign of those tacky green uniforms either.
"Free samples! Try the new vegan samosas today! On sale for 30%!"
A shrill feminine voice calls out from a few feet away as a waft of toasty spices travels all the way from the produce section to where she currently stood. Rachel eagerly made her way to the source of the smell and was soon greeted by two old ladies. Both decked in Bargain Mart's lime employee vest, they had this crazed look in their eyes like the evil witch from the Wizard of Oz. Dubious appearances aside, they might be able to help her with the search.
"Only $2.50 a box. Don't miss out on our exclusive Monday sale," the taller of the two grumbled. Her expression was sour in comparison to her companion. Red sale stickers were plastered all over her flowery dress much like bedazzled decor while her tangled hair tugged at the crooked badge spelling out: Hello! My name is STHENO!
With a pair of tongs, the other woman waves around a steaming samosa. She smiles at Rachel with rotting yellow teeth. "Care to try one sweetie?"
Rachel shakes her head, reaching down to take the card out of her basket. "No appetite. I actually came to ask if you know what game this-" A strong jolt of static runs up her arm when she touches plastic-coated paper. A grunt escapes her pursed lips, and she holds up the object, ignoring the tingling sensations surging throughout her body. The worker looks dismayed at her refusal, but Stheno looks closer, squinting her eyes. All the while, Rachel feels a strange pressure build behind her eyes: not a painful feeling but not pleasant either.
"Game, like a card game? Here it looks like some kind of knight to me, riding on an awful excuse of a chariot. What do you think sister?" The lack of response from the other woman prompted Stheno to jostle her shoulder. "Euryale, you dumb broad, I'm speaking to you!" The samosa was now lying cold on the floor. The sister looked paralyzed, her tongs held loosely, dangling from her pinky.
"Where did you get this child?" She spoke softly with a tinge of bitterness. Unnerved by her change in tone, Rachel slowly shook her head. As the Mist rapidly faded away, she nervously inched away from the two women. "In-in aisle six, behind a bunch of Clorox wipes."
The sisters stared at one another for a good ten seconds, an unspoken discussion shared between them. The long boar tusks poking from the corner of their mouths glinted under the harsh light while the snakes on top of their heads hissed and slithered in her direction. "You will give that card to us mortal, if you want what's best for you," Stheno purred. Next to her, Euryale was brimming with excitement, whispering under her breath, "she's here! She's back already!"
Rachel grit her trembling teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about!" She squeezed the card harder in her right hand. "It's finders keepers, don't you grandmas know that!" The shopping basket falls to the floor, a loud clatter of plastic resounding throughout the market, but of course, the other customers paid her no mind.
"Or should I say monsters!" Rachel accused. Her rubber soles squeaked against the tiled floors as she sprinted toward the exit. A chorus of growls and screeches followed her close behind.
The loud hustle of the big city comforts her ears as she shoves her way past crowded streets. People shout and curse at her in typical New Yorker fashion. Men and women were crouched near the trash bins, smoking shitty joints and cigarettes. A yellow taxi almost runs her over when she crosses an intersection. Her feet pattered against the degraded sidewalk in a frantic rhythm while the wind whipped her curly hair in a frenzy. She spots the police station a few blocks ahead and cries out in relief. But, unfortunately, at the last second, she body slams into a tall and heavy figure. Her thin silk pants offer no protection when she tumbles to the ground. Pain blooms around her knees and elbows, blood leaking from multiple scrape wounds.
"Shit!" Rachel curses herself for being so clumsy. As much as she'd love to be a demigod like Percy and the rest, she definitely isn't cut out for their lifestyle. Whipping her head around, she's greeted with the sight of worried pedestrians, and the snake sisters were nowhere to be seen. She stares up from her sprawled position and sees an imposing old man, whose black attire was more fitting for the Middle Ages than their current era. His red eyes alarmed her. One thing she knew for sure was that humans didn't have red eyes, but monsters sure did.
She expected him to say something for just knocking over a small teenage girl, but the man just stares, lets out a small laugh, and continues on his merry way. Rachel was still lying on the hard concrete, absolutely flabbergasted. What was with her day being ruined by old people? She opens her right hand to see the card still pristine and unblemished.
Rachel knew deep within her gut that her strange day was a result of said object, but since she had no expertise in such supernatural matters, she'll have to contact that idiot. It's been a while since they met up anyways.
Percy would know what it is, and if not him, then that annoying blonde friend of his.
Percy doesn't know what to make of Rachel's mystery card. For the past hour, he's been trying to comfort his friend as she retailed her confrontation with the Gorgan sisters. Who would've guessed that they would work in a supermarket of all places; even Medusa had her own restaurant at least.
When his ginger friend called to hang out at the beach, this was not what he intended. The outside scenery was too nice for them to be having such a serious conversation. The skies were a clear blue, and the sea a calm glittery green. He wanted this to be a nice little vacation, but here was with Rachel, talking about monsters and whatnot.
"Behind a bunch of Clorox wipes? You really found it there?" Percy asks with skepticism. The red-haired girl gave him a hard frown. "Yes, how many times must I repeat this?" She raises the card up high, squinting her eyes to block the harsh sun rays.
"Here, you take a good look yourself."
Rachel hands it to Percy, and he makes funny faces while examining every inch of its back and front side. It looked like a normal playing card to him.
"Looks like something Nico has," Percy said jokingly. Rachel scrunches her face in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Those Mythomagic cards of his?"
Percy shakes his head while chuckling. "No, a different card. Don't know where he's got it, but it's his most prized possession. He probably likes it more than that emo sword."
Rachel perks up at his explanation."His card, does it affect him in any way?"
Percy raises an eyebrow. "No. . . I don't think so. He's always been weird. Probably out there right now doing sketchy shit. . . but I don't think it's some card's fault." Rachel straightens her posture with a tense look on her face. "Not if it's magical," she whispers to herself. Thinking back to the Bargain Mart incident, she was certain the sudden shock of energy was the card's doing. It made her feel special in a way. For those few seconds, her body felt rejuvenated, invincible even. The brazen demigod next to her wouldn't understand her curiosity. He already has the power, the prophecies, the adventures, friendship. . .
Rachel jolts in her seat, startling Percy. She comes to a surprising realization right there and then, staring at the boy next to her not with longing but something else. What was it all those years if not a crush? Jealousy? Envy? She was starting to doubt her true feelings.
"Rider? How fitting," a deep voice suddenly comments behind them. Simultaneously, a black blur plummets down in front of Rachel, hitting the car front and rattling the Prius; a rather large dent had formed from the creature's hooves.
"Your horse can talk!" She exclaims in shock as to which the black pegasus whinnies in anger, stomping the Prius once more. "He can't talk, well, at least not to us." A tall muscular teen emerges into view next to the driver's seat. "I was just trying to say that the card suits you, Percy, with you being Blackjack's personal jockey and all." The newcomer was wearing blue summer shorts and one of those ridiculous Hawaiian print shirts. He honestly looked more ready for vacation than they were.
Percy's eyes sharpened at his arrival. "Don't know what a jock-key is, but shouldn't you be in armor right now? What's with the get-up, Charles?"
The other teen, now christened Charles, sighed. "Honestly, there's bad and good news about the war. There's been a change of plans, and everyone at camp needs you back to discuss it more thoroughly." Blackjack ruffles his wings, snorting in agreement.
"So no ass-kicking today, got it." Percy turns to give Rachel an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I think I'll need to go now." He hands her the card and then stares at the damaged hood with a guilty expression.
"Will you-"
"Yeah, don't worry about it. I'll explain to Paul about the hood."
Percy gives her a blinding grin, hopping out of the car with ease, and Rachel. . . well she doesn't follow him. A strong gush of wind strains her eyes, as powerful wings launch the two demigods into the heavens. Rachel watches them fly high until they're nothing but a speck of black against endless blue. She leans back into her seat, trying to enjoy the summer weather.
Yet again, she finds herself all alone. Lately, it was getting harder to get used to with Percy around, so she's forgotten how often she did things by herself.
Something thrums under her fingertips, and she looks down to see the card gleaming. From the car window, a thin sliver of light tickles its thin edges, illuminating the small ornate letters.
Rachel smiles. She takes it back, maybe she's not alone after all.
From high above the clouds, Camp Half-Blood looks rather small and suspiciously empty: no signs of training or weapons testing anywhere. Percy shoots Charles a confused look as to which the big guy just shrugs in response.
Unlike the private beach he was just at, the skies at Long Island were cloudier. The chilly weather coupled with the lack of campers painted a rather austere image, but since the son of Ares didn't seem concerned, Percy found no reason to fret either. Blackjack gives him a small heads up before reducing his speed, gliding gracefully over the empty amphitheater. Eventually, they gently land in front of the Big House. Even from outside, Percy could hear shouting and murmurs. Charles quickly ushers him inside.
They enter the rec room where all the senior counselors had gathered around a green ping pong table. The makeshift council room smelled of cheap wood, aged wine, and nacho cheese. The curtains on all the windows were drawn, darkening the room a considerable amount. Clarisse and Katie Gardner out of all people were arguing while the Stoll brothers were speaking in hush tones towards Michael Yew, the new head of Apollo. Pollux from the Dionysus cabin was the only one alone, seated in his chair, looking glum. Silena, all dolled up with her volumized hair and makeup, immediately bounds over to Charles and leaps into his arms. They make kissy faces at each other, showering each other with fifteen different iterations of "I missed you."
They should really get a room.
Percy tries to find Annabeth, which wasn't very hard. She stands next to Chiron at the far end of the table, face scrunched in concentration. The old centaur is in his wheelchair form, a laptop positioned right in front of him. In the dark, the bright screen illuminates both their faces. They seemed to be watching something rather troubling if their expressions tell him anything.
When the older man finally notices his presence, he corrects his tilted glasses, motioning him to come closer.
"Percy, come and see this."
He obliges with slight hesitancy. Didn't laptops also send signals to monsters? Or was that only phones? Annabeth raises the volume and turns the computer around. She puts a hand on his shoulder for reassurance. "I know that look. The Hephateus cabin made it. It's safe, don't worry." Percy nods in relief before making the video full screen. He presses play and before him was a shitty recording of a local news report. The anchorwoman describes a tragic event in Long Island as a hazardous gas leak with an unexpected twist, whatever that means. The number of casualties is stated to be at least 100 dead and 50 injured. The live footage shown from the actual channel itself showed a lot of smoke and. . .
"Oh my gods, is she naked!?"
If Percy's eyes weren't deceiving him then in the midst of a scene taken straight out of Tartarus was a petite girl strolling casually down a flooded road. An entire neighborhood was coated with what appeared to be a pearly white fluid: beautiful in appearance but deadly. Skin bubbled and burned, the human form rapidly dissolving down to the bone. The victims screamed and pleaded to no avail. The nude girl, whose alabaster skin showed no sign of injury or imperfections, bore an ethereal sort of beauty. If not for the two long horns on her head, the wicked smile on her face indicated that she wasn't human.
Of course, the mortals were screaming and crying not because of the bonafide demon girl but because the water is somehow melting them like lava.
Percy pauses the video, unsure of what he just saw. He's encountered cruelty before but never in such an outright display of callousness.
"New monster of the week?"
At first, no one answered. Everyone's faces still looked troubled, as if they haven't made up their mind on who or what the perpetrator could be.
"We honestly don't know man," Travis admits. "Well, whatever she is, I still can't get over the fact that she's a streaker," his brother remarks. Next to him, Katie immediately elbows him in the chest. "That's what bothers you? Seriously?!"
Percy ignores their little squabble, looking to Annabeth for answers. The blonde sighs while fixing a stray hair. "Finish it and then I'll tell you what I think." She leans forwards to unpause the video, crossing her arms in a thinking posture. As per instruction, he directs his attention back to the screen, his eyes slightly straining due to the harsh brightness. The monster grins into the camera, all sharp teeth and blood. Then, she speaks.
"They taste the same either boiled or grilled."
The camera is given a sly smirk and a wink before the monster girl erupts into a peal of sardonic laughter, raising some object that looked like a flat red bowl. She guzzles down her drink in a greedy fashion, toying flirtatiously with her flimsy purple kimono.
"Damn, that's hot."
All heads swiveled to the source of the comment. The Dionysus kid at least had the decency to look abashed. He laughs nervously, uncomfortable with the sudden attention. "Uh, I-I mean the weird water on the streets. Must be scorching hot to dissolve those people like that."
Small giggles resound around the table, and Chiron coughs into his hand. "Such intrusive thoughts should best be kept to oneself," he advises. Teases and laughter continue to spread amongst the teens. Pollox turns bright red and nods before slumping further into his seat.
At that moment, the computer screen starts to glitch. The images rapidly deteriorate into a cluster of random pixels until the scene becomes a kaleidoscopic mesh of swirling patterns. The girl speaks again, this time muddled and incoherent.
"&*Q&W*7w8e-Morons*7W^&E*&R^-Hero-**Pathetic&^War-z& ^Time."
The laptop fizzes before the display turns black, abruptly plunging the room into darkness, but everyone continues to stare in stupefaction. For a few seconds, they wait in silence before someone flicks the lights on. The dim chandelier washes the furniture with a familiar yellow tinge, somehow imbuing a sense of normalcy in the midst of their bizarre turnout. Percy quickly scans the room. Everyone's faces are dumbstruck, clearly, no one had a clue what was going on.
The first to speak was, of course, Clarisse. Her eyebrows were scrunched, a frown forming on her face. She steps forward and slams her large hands on the table.
BAM!
The table trembles, the vibrations traveling around the table, rattling the soda-covered ping pong balls. The girl's lips pull back into a snarl.
"What did that bitch just say?!"
The outburst surprises no one, her anger resonating with all the other occupants. Although the words were unclear, everyone had the sneaking suspicion the nude terrorist was insulting them. . . Silena puts a hand on Clarisse's shoulder to calm her down. Fortunately, the burly girl doesn't protest, huffing before she takes her seat.
"So what's this chick's deal man?" Connor exclaims. "Is she with Kronos? Does this mean he's back? Were the gods lying to us!?" Annabeth shakes her head, glancing at Percy's confused expression. "We shouldn't drop to conclusions so soon. The gods are certain Kronos has backed down because of a pact. Besides, there is no definite proof of her involvement with his legion."
"Blondie might be on to something. This monster definitely looks like she ain't from here. In fact, she don't look like any greek monster I've seen," Clarisse states with certainty. All around the table, people vocalized their agreement. Munching on week-old stale chips, the Hermes brothers share a nervous look with one another. "She's a Japanese monster then? She was wearing a kimono," Travis suggests. "But those don't exist," Conor comments. Simultaneously, they tilt their head toward Chiron. "Right?"
As if on cue, every teen faces the famed centaur, waiting anxiously on his answer. Chiron dabs his forehead with a handkerchief, pushing up his wire-rimmed glasses.
"If I say no, will you all believe me?"
What he receives is a long chorus of nos and weak maybes. The centaur sighs as if he had just given up from a long-winded battle.
"I believed they are called Yokai." His voice sounds restrained and quiet. "They usually reside on the other side of the globe. I have no idea how one could end up in the Western hemisphere." Chiron closes his eyes with a resigned look. He looks as if he regrets what he just said. Meanwhile, Percy scratches his head, mind going overdrive. He doesn't know much about Japan, but he's sure they have their own set of gods too. Almost every culture does. If their monsters are real, then that means. . .
His knee hits the table painfully as he springs up from his seat. The metal chair topples to the floor with a loud thud.
"No fucking way. Then does that mean the Greek Gods are not the only ones out there?"
For what seemed like forever, the room remained deadly quiet. His outburst, which usually would have warranted disbelief, was met with frenzied emotions. Chairs abruptly screeched in unison. Everyone rose in shock, a million questions bombarding their activities director about demons, Egyptian gods, even wizards and aliens.
Chiron refused to answer any of them, waving his hand to calm the room.
"Despite everyone's praises about my teaching prowess, I am not all-knowing." His voice is stern and booming. "Moreover, this is a secret I would never have wished to disclose in the first place, and for good reason too."
His answer was, of course, dissatisfying. The campers still grew ever more agitated, discussing wild theories amongst themselves.
"Then, this event doesn't have anything to do with us then?" Charles questions. "If this is not a Greek matter, then-"
"Monsters, whatever kind they are, don't directly attack mortals like that." Annabeth interrupts. "It's just unheard of. And the number of people that died. . . Who's to say this won't happen again?" Her comment triggers a succession of worried murmurs. "Is everyone really content with letting this go-"
The loud slam of the door cuts through the growing tension. Everyone stares at the girl behind the doorframe, gasping at the bloody boy next to her. The newcomer steps forward, boots loud against the creaky floorboards. Wavy black hair, styled in a single braid, swayed down to her shins while her dark eyes gleamed with anger and sorrow.
"Bianca," Percy calls out in worry.
She gives him a curt nod before offering her injured companion a chair, but she herself remained standing.
"This incident has very much to do with Camp Half-Blood." She snarls. "20 out of the 100 victims were of our own." Pointing to the injured kid, she speaks louder. "Matt is the only survivor."
Bianca stares at Percy with cold eyes.
"This was a calculated attack."