On My Own
A "The Dimension Walker" Short Story
Summary: Leo was convinced the Fates hated him. He and Calypso were supposed to return to Camp Half-Blood. He was supposed to be reunited with his friends. Things were supposed to be semi-normal again. But no, that wasn't the case. Calypso turned out to be a backstabbing liar. Ogygia was a dimension where time literally stopped. Camp Half-Blood had changed. And, the most important of all, his friends were gone.
Disclaimer: I do not own Leo Valdez. He belongs to Uncle Rick. Also, some OC's do not belong to me, but belong to my friend Cara, aka Carabootoo.
A/N: I'm gonna do the POV's like how it is with HoO. Which means...TIME TO INTRODUCE THE OC'S, BABY!
First up, my OC. Enjoy~!
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~Chapter Three~
~Thomas~
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Thomas never looked on the bright side of things, nor did he want to. Call him a pessimist, but it was true.
All his life, his father thought he was a burden and a curse. Oliver Floros wanted to get into a good college and follow his dream of being an astronomer. Learning about the planets and stars was his father's passion, and he was so close to achieving his dream. But then, in came Thomas's mom. They fell in love, did the frick-frack, and had him. She left, only a month after Thomas was born, never to be seen again. His father now had to focus on raising a kid, while balancing his studies. It wasn't easy, and his father voiced it loud and clear. He hated Thomas with every fiber of his being, and showed his hatred in many...creative ways.
School was no pleasant escape either. He was the social-outcast of the entire school. The popular (more like shallow and bitchy) girls of would make fun of his clothes and looks. Every time he passed them, they would make snarky comments and scowl at his mere presence. The homophobic jocks would push him around and beat him up because they could (their words, not his) "see the gay radiating off him". They hadn't tried anything extreme, since the teachers were always watching and the school was pretty harsh with punishments if any student did something extreme. The nerds and geeks would flinch whenever he came around, and tried to avoid him at any cost. His so-called "fellow outcasts" would whisper and didn't try to befriend him. Only the school staff were friendly and not afraid of him. They even tried to help Thomas, but they never could.
There was also his appearance, which Thomas hated with a burning passion. His pale skin was so white that people thought he was an albino or was really sick all the time. He had dark, pitch black hair that was always feathery and messy. The girls at school called him "Thomas the Raven" and stick black feathers in his hair. He was thin and bony, with glinting, void black eyes that always had a dark, empty gaze. His skinny frame made it easy for bullies to fight him since he wasn't strong enough to fight back. His eyes made everyone uncomfortable. His dad's relatives tried to make him feel better by saying he was quite handsome. But, of course, his father quickly brought him down and said he looked like a freak. Everyone at school knew Thomas as that creepy albino kid, and called him a skeleton or a ghost behind his back.
There was only two things that brought him joy in his miserable existence, and that was his pen-pal—Connie Connecticut—and his Aunt Starla.
His art instructor, Ms. Muse, told him about a pen-pal project the school was having. Interested, Thomas decided to sign up. At first, Thomas was having doubts about this pen-pal project. What if he was going to get the worst pen-pal possible? His luck has always been rotten, so he fully expected the most homophobic, most preppy pen-pal possible.
Imagine his shock and surprise when he met Connie Connecticut, the most sweetest and kindest girl Thomas has ever met. Connie was skinny as a stick and had a tiny bust, with round olive-green eyes and pale, rosy lips. She had pale skin that was beach sand-white, with a very light dusting of freckles dotting her cheeks and nose. Her strawberry blonde hair was always put into fuzzy pigtails. Connie lived in Connecticut with her mom, dad, twin brothers, and the cutest, pure black German Shepard Thomas had ever seen. She was his age, so fourteen, and always spoke with a quiet yet charming voice. She loved wearing dresses and had a passion for art. All in all, Connie was truly amazing. He had been pen-pals with her for roughly four months. Thomas went to her whenever he felt lonely or needed someone to vent to. Connie would always listening, and offered her sympathy and advice. If it wasn't for her, he would have done something crazy; like running away or suicide. She was like an anchor; a very cheerful and kind anchor.
And then, there was Aunt Starla. She was an artist and writer who traveled the world for inspiration. Thomas would always get postcards and awesome trinkets from her. When she visited, Aunt Starla would always spend her time with Thomas and getting the latest update on his hard life. Just like the rest of his father's family, Aunt Starla actually cared deeply about Thomas. Aunt Starla tried her best to protect Thomas, even if she traveled a lot. She kept tabs on him, since she didn't trust her brother one bit. It was hard for Thomas to believe that his dad and Aunt Starla were even related, since she was so laid-back and kind and his dad was so high-strung and cruel. Like Connie, Aunt Starla was an anchor. Except, she was more than that. She was like a guardian angel he had always wished for. Aunt Starla was like the mom he always wanted, and wished he had.
Thomas managed to survive, hiding his pain with silence and isolation. He only told Aunt Starla and Connie about his pain, but even then he still pushed them away. There was one thing he could never talk about, however.
/~Ω~\
Today was the day of the field trip to the ghost town of Cerise, Michigan*. It was a few miles away from their sleepy town, but far enough for them to take a day or two to get there. Thomas wasn't looking forward to being stuck with the entire freshmen student body for a three day, two night trip. But hey, it beats having to face his abusive father.
Thomas sat in the way back of the bus with his backpack and duffel bag. He placed his headphones around his neck, knowing that the chaperon would probably talk about something important before they head off. He stared out the window, with his duffel bag at his feet and his backpack on his lap. Everyone else was sitting anywhere but near him, chatting loudly or listening to their iPods.
Some of the Pops (his nickname for the popular kids) were throwing papers at him, snickering and probably spreading rumors about him. Some of the jocks called out to him, asking him where he got the bruise on his neck. Thomas touched that bruise, grimacing at the memory of his father trying to strangle him a week ago. Naturally, Thomas pushed that memory aside and ignored the jocks' comments.
"Alright, muffins!" Coach Wood called out. "This educational field trip to Cerise will teach you what Mother Nature can do to!"
Coach Wood was a scary woman, despite her appearance. She was tall and lean, built like a runner. Her skin was cinnamon brown, with a thick white scar on her left cheek from a hunting accident a month ago (partially Thomas' fault). She had bright, emerald green eyes and curly, ash blonde hair put up in a high ponytail. Coach Wood always wore the same thing: a grass green tank top, dirt brown running Capri pants, bright white tennis shoes, and a large, grey hoodie. A worn, red baseball cap rested on her head, and her trusty silver whistle hung around her neck.
She had been at Summer High for a four years, and was probably one of the youngest teachers. A few kids talked about her going on paid vacations and time offs at random times, but never questioned it. Coach Wood was tough, strict, and acted like a Roman general. The ones who worked hard only heard Coach Wood yell a few times, but the slackers would get the worst of it. She was one of the teachers that tried to help Thomas, but Thomas was wary of her. Every time he ran laps or they played dodge-arrow—it was like dodge-ball, but they used foam arrows as projectiles and not foam balls—she would give him a hard look, as if she was waiting for Thomas to do something unexpected. Of course, Thomas would ultimately fail and end up falling on his face or hurting someone else.
But, all in all, Coach Wood was cool. She let the kids who were having a hard day some time on the bench, and let a kid skip class if they felt they really needed to. Coach had no tolerance for bullies and slackers, and she seemed to be the teacher that always quickly stopped the bullies before they did anything to the students. She organized awesome lesson plans and rarely gave out homework or tests. Almost everyone at Summer High liked her.
"This three-day trip will not only teach you about nature, but how to survive in it too!" Coach Wood glared at the gossiping girls. "Some of you muffins could use some roughing up, because you're as tough as a feather-filled pillow. Remember, do not stray from the path and if you see anything strange, tell me! I don't want to lose any of you. And if you try something on someone..." She brought out her silver baseball bat, and gave a dark look. "You know how I loathe and despise bullies more than I loathe and despise nature killers."
Did Thomas also mention that Coach Wood loved nature and also subbed for the science classes sometimes? Yeah, she was a pretty awesome teacher.
"And class," Coach Wood added. "Your electronics are for keeping in touch with your parents and/or guardians. You may use them for listening to music, but no going on social media! I swear, this generation is all about the tweeting on Twitter and the updating on Instagram or Tumblr!"
Some people gasped, probably shocked that Coach Wood got the names right. Thomas rolled his eyes and snorted. He had seen Coach Wood going on her phone, video chatting with a guy that looked like her son. Her son was talking about some TV show, and Coach understood exactly what he was talking about. She wasn't that old. She was like twenty-four or something.
The bus pulled up in front of some old, abandoned warehouses. Everyone started getting up, grabbing their stuff and chatting loudly. Thomas slung his backpack over his shoulder, grabbed his duffel bag, and followed everyone out of the bus. They stood on a few feet away from the bus, standing under an old, wooden arch. Thomas looked around, taking in the view.
The sky was slowly turning from yellowish-orange to a light blue, with the sun rising behind them. All around them, trees towered high like giants. The dark, green grass went up to their ankles, swaying lazily in the wind. A few feet in front of them, four story-tall warehouses were scattered all around. Bright, green moss covered the old buildings, covering them almost completely. A few miles ahead of them, Thomas could vaguely make out a small cluster of buildings. Thomas could see a clock tower, probably in the center of the buildings. A long, winding stone road led towards the cluster.
"Welcome to Cerise, a town abandoned in the 1960's!" Coach Wood boomed, smiling brightly. "As you can see, nature has left its mark on this 'ghost town'. Now! Any questions before we go?"
A platinum blonde girl raised her hand.
"Yes Ms. Snow?" Coach Wood asked, arching her brow.
"Is there supposed to be a smoking hole in one of the warehouses?" Sarah Snow, one of the Pops, asked.
"Ms. Snow! What kind of question is that—Oh."
True to Snow's words, the warehouse nearest to them had a large hole on the rusted metal roof. Whispers rose among the group, causing fear and curiosity to ripple through the class of teens. Coach Wood's eyes harden, and Thomas could've sworn they glowed. Muttering some curses in a strange language, she turned back to the group.
"Alright, muffins! I'll go check it out to make sure it's nothing bad or dangerous. All of you stay close to the bus. And if I don't come back in twenty minutes, hide in the bus and tell the bus driver to drive if he sees anything suspicious!"
With that, Coach Wood marched off with her baseball bat in hand. As soon as she entered the warehouse, everyone scrambled onto the bus. Thomas tried to follow after them, but one of the Pops closed the door in his face.
"Hey!" Thomas exclaimed. "Let me in!"
"It's not like anyone's gonna miss you, Thomas the Raven," Snow remarked.
"Fuck you, bitch," Thomas said.
Snow arched her brow. "Excuse me?"
Thomas flipped her the bird, and looked back at the warehouse. Only a few had passed, but Thomas was starting to feel dread. Something in his gut told him Coach Wood was in trouble. He glanced back at bus, seeing Snow giving a glare.
"It's best to help your teacher," a voice whispered in his ear. "Than to be stuck with your classmates. They don't like you, and they never will. Why bother?"
Thomas took in a deep breath, and marched towards the warehouse. His classmates didn't call out to him, nor did they told the bus driver to stop him. They watched him in silence.
/~Ω~\
Thomas stepped through the doors of the warehouse, looking around warily. The moss covered the windows so when the sunlight passed through, it made the whole place look green. The stone floor had small cracks with weeds and flowers poking through. It was cold and damp, and Thomas scrunched up his nose at the smell. Nature did leave its mark, and it was a nasty mark. He carefully walked through, watching out for the barrels, crates, and rusting bars scattered on the floor. Heading towards the back, Thomas could spot the gaping hole. The sun shined down through the hole, lighting up on a particular spot.
The first thing Thomas saw was a large, bronze dragon with oil dripping from its ear. That was the one surprise he didn't see coming. It was a cool dragon, though. It was about sixty feel long, from snout to tail. Its body was made of interlocking bronze plates, glittering in the sunlight. It had claws the size of butcher knives, with a mouth that was lined with razor-sharp metal teeth. The bronze dragon's ruby eyes glinted faintly, with wide bronze wings that were tucked behind its back. Thomas stared at it in awe, biting his lip as he thought about drawing the beautiful creature.
A few feet away from the dragon, Coach Wood kneeling next to a boy—probably a year or two older than Thomas. The boy looked like a Latino elf with curly black hair, pointy ears, and a babyish face. He was sort of cute, in scrawny elf way. His long, nimble fingers twitched, and Latino elf was muttering under his breath as if he was having a nightmare. A scroll sat at his stomach, with a green ribbon tied around it. Coach Wood was muttered under her breath, looking at the pendant around his neck. It was a flame-shaped fire opal inside a onyx circle, hanging on a glittering bronze chain. The flame glowed softly, like a fire in a hearth. It probably cost a lot of money, yet Coach was looking at it as if it was some death charm or bad omen.
"Demigod," she muttered, then cursed in that strange language again. "Under the protection of Lady Gaea Terra. He's a son of Hephaestus...but his aura...no. All the mutts are at camp." She glanced over at the dragon. "Gods, this can't be!"
She snatched the scroll and placed it in the pocket of her hoodie. Thomas slowly approached them, standing a foot or two away from them.
"Uh..." Thomas stuttered. "C-Coach? W-Who's that?"
The blonde woman looked up. "Floros? What in Tartarus are you doing here?!" She scowled. "I told you to stay by the bus, muffin!"
"I-I...um..." Thomas mumbled. Did she just say Tartarus? "Look, Coach, I—"
"Dirt Face!" the boy gasped as he sat up, pencil straight.
Coach Wood cursed, flinching away. The Latino gave her an odd look, then turned his head towards Thomas. He quickly got to he feet, holding his hands out in front of him.
"Don't mug me!" he cried.
"Mug you?" Thomas almost laughed. "Sorry man, but I don't think anything in your tool belt would benefit me. But your dragon though..." He trailed off, eyeing the dragon.
Latino elf blinked, turning towards the bronze dragon. "Festus?" he asked.
"Wait...You named your dragon 'Happy'?" Thomas laughed for real. "Why the hell would you name a badass dragon like this Happy? Dude, you better be joking."
The Latino frowned. He was about to say something when Coach Green held up her hand. She stood up, and walked over to him.
"Thomas," Coach Wood said. "How did you know that 'festus' was Latin for 'happy'. You don't take Mr. Knight's Latin class."
Thomas blinked. "Um...lucky guess...?"
"Thomas...that's impossible."
"Coach, I—"
"Maybe you're the recruit I was searching for," she mumbled, rubbing her chin. "It makes sense. Your aura seems...off."
"My what now?"
"We need to get you to camp, right away. I've been sensing monsters for a while. There's one here, on the bus. We gotta get you—"
"Whoa, hold on!" Latino elf made the universal time-out sign. "What's going on? Who are you guys? What monster?"
"For one, muffin," Coach huffed, turning to face the Latino, "I was in the middle of a field trip while finding a recruit until one of my charges saw the hole in the roof of this warehouse. Second, the name's Rosie Wood and that's"—she pointed her thumb at Thomas—"one of my charges and the recruit, Thomas Floros. Third, there's a monster that wants to get Floros. Now, what are you doing on our territory, demigod? Lord Hades Pluto assured me the last of the mutts are in camps, and Lady Artemis Diana said that no demigod could come here unless they had a DW or a god at their side."
Thomas stared at Coach Wood as if she grew a second head, while Latino elf gaped at her.
"How...how did you—?"
"Please," Coach snorted. "Muffin, I can sense your demigod aura. I'm no mortal, son of Hephaestus. Now, who are you and how did you get here?"
"Leo Valdez," Latino elf said. "I got here on my dragon, Festus. I've been running from Shadow People—or SP's as I like to call them—for days now. Queen Dirt Face herself, Gaea, said that this scroll could help me. Though...I rather have another god's help than her."
"How dare you insult a primordial!" Coach Wood's eyes glinted with a dangerous light. "I don't know what you demigods learned about her, but we know that Lady Gaea Terra is one of the most important deity. She is kind and caring. Lady Gaea Terra deserve respect, not insults!"
"It's not my fault she killed my mom and started a war!" Valdez growled, throwing his arms in the air. "And lady, Dirt Face is not that kind and caring. She's manipulative, cruel, and a fricking insane."
"Apparently, you need to learn your facts right," Coach scoffed.
"Apparent, you haven't heard of the Giant War," Valdez shot back.
"Hey!" Thomas shouted, coming in between them. "What the fuck is going on? What's a demigod? Who's 'Gaea'? What's Mist? There was a war? What the bloody hell!"
Coach Wood sighed. "Floros...there's something that you should know. I—"
"FOOLS!"
The whole building shuddered, causing a few of the catwalks hanging on the ceiling to rattle and loosen. The front doors violently slammed shut, and parts of the catwalk fell down in front of it. Thomas looked up at the hole, and saw the sky had turned dark and grey. A cold, bitter wind found its way inside. The wind pierced Thomas' exposed skin like tiny ice daggers, causing him to shiver. Outside, the wind howled and Thomas could faintly hear yelling and screams. Coach Wood held up her bat, glaring up at three figures that appeared on the catwalks above their heads.
"Σας κατάρα ηλίθιοι σκιές!" Coach yelled. "Who sent you?" [Translation: Curse you stupid shadows!]
"Our mistress..." a male voice hissed.
"That demigod there must be taken to the Dark One at once!" two female voice cried. "You can run, Leo Valdez, but you cannot hide!"
"Aw come on!" Valdez snapped, pulling out a large hammer from his toolbelt. "Can't I catch a break for once? Answer: nope!"
Thomas backed into the shadows, watching as three misty figures floated down above Valdez and Coach Wood's heads. The misty figures had ash grey skin, and wispy hair black as coal. Their eyes were solid bronze, and they bared their pure white, vampire teeth. Two of the figures were female, and had long nails that looked more like talons. They circled around Valdez, their wispy blue dresses flowing like a fog rolling in.
"Stop trying to fight it, Leo Valdez," the two females said in bone-chilling unison. "Do you not want a place to belong? Didn't you consider saying yes?"
"Yeah right," Valdez snorted. "In your dreams, SP!"
"Valdez!" Coach Wood hissed. "Less talking, more hitting!"
Coach raised her bat, and swung it at the first female figure. It nailed her right in the forehead, and sent her flying into a crate full of rotten apples. The second female figure let out a growl, and lunged at Coach. Valdez smashed her head with his hammer, braining her from behind. Both of the females let out a high-pitched screech, and evaporated into thin air. The third figure let out a snarl, and grabbed Coach Wood by her arms. She cursed, flailing around in a vain attempt to escape its grasp. Thomas quickly placed his stuff on the ground, and ran over to them. He picked up the bat, and threw it at the figure's head. It harmlessly passed through its head, but it did cause it to pause.
"Who threw that?!" it hissed in a raspy, masculine voice.
"Hey fucker!" Thomas exclaimed. "Down here, bitch!"
The figure turned its head, promptly dropping Coach. She let out a yelp as she landed on top of Festus, starling the dragon and causing it to stir. The figure floated over to Thomas, its bronze eyes glowing darkly. Thomas gulped, and put on a brave face.
"Do you not know who I am, mortal?" it asked. "I am Scelus Sceleris!"
"Latin for crime, sin, evil dead, wickedness," Thomas said, arching a brow. "So what?"
"So? SO? I AM SOMETHING YOU SHOULD FEAR! I AM IN THE SHADOWS IN THE NIGHT, THE ONE WHO STIRS YOUR WORST NIGHTMARES! THE BRAVEST OF HEROES SHUDDER AT THE MERE MENTION OF MY NAME! THE EVILEST OF VILLAINS ARE ENVIOUS OF MY WAYS. I KNOW ALL YOUR FEARS, ALL YOUR DOUBTS, AND ALL THE PAIN YOU CARRY. I WAS ONCE A MORTAL THIEF, KILLING MY VICTIMS BY SLITTING THEIR NECK AND DRINKING THEIR BLOOD! I—"
"Blah, blah, blah. We get it; you're the evilest shit in the whole entire world. Pfft, get in line!" Thomas snorted, turning to Valdez. "Are they usually such a windbag, or is this new? The only kind of villains I know about are from books and TV shows."
Valdez grinned, tapping his chin sarcastically. "Yeah, they are. You should hear them go on and on about their 'queen and mistress' that 'shall lead us to a new era of darkness and justice'." He snorted. "And I thought Dirt Face was that long-winded. But nooooo! They're all about bragging about how amazing and brilliant they are."
"Maybe it's a bad guy thing," Thomas shrugged.
"Probably..."
Scelus Sceleris's eye twitched, and bared his fangs. "How dare—"
"Oh no," Thomas said, feigning fear. "He's about to talk about how we're all doomed. Quick! I think I'm about to faint."
"I'm so scared," Valdez said, faking a flinch. "He's about to bore us to death with his bad guy monologue!"
"Spare the children!" A small smirk slowly made its way to Thomas' face.
"Take cover!" The corners of Valdez's mouth tilted upward.
"It's every man for himself!" A snort.
"We're all going to die!" A chuckle.
It was hard for Thomas to hold back his laughter. But, he and Valdez were on the verge of tears as they continued to fake their fear. Valdez was grinning broadly, his eyes twinkling and his arm wrapped around Thomas' shoulders. Thomas was leaning on him, trying his best to catch his breath. Scelus Sceleris was growling like a wolf, gritting his teeth and scowling deeply. From behind, Coach Wood had gotten up and was slowly approaching the shadow. Her bat was held up high, and a murderous/amused expression on her face. She was five feet away from the shadow...four feet...
"SILENCE YOU FOOLS!" Scelus Sceleris thundered. "YOU SHOULD FEAR ME! I AM YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE! I AM NOT A JOKE!"
Three feet...
"I think I rather fight those Shadow Women," Valdez remarked, snidely.
"Yeah," Thomas shrugged. "They would've gotten the job done faster than you."
Two feet...
"WHY I—"
"LIGHTS OUT, MUFFIN!" Coach Wood yelled.
Coach swung her bat, and smacked Scelus Sceleris behind the head. He stumbled, falling onto his back. She pressed her foot on his chest, and raised the bat over her head. The bat shimmered, and turned into a silver pilum; a Roman spear. A look of horror replaced the furious expression on Scelus Sceleris's face as he stared up at the spear. Both boys shut up instantly, their laughter long gone. Thomas stared at his gym teacher in shock, and Valdez's jaw dropped.
"Who are you?" the shadow asked, fearfully.
Coach smirked. "I am Rosie Wood, daughter of Terra—primordial Roman goddess of the earth—and Richard Wood—a Dimension Walker. And you, Scelus Sceleris, are about to meet your maker."
...
*(1): Purely a fictional town. I don't know much about Michigan (since I'm from the West Coast), but I'm pretty sure there's no town called Cerise.
Hey guys! I hope you liked this chapter! :D
FYI: Rosie Wood was inspired from Gleeson Hedge. You'll learn more about her later on.
This chapter was suprisingly easier to write, considering it's from my OC's POV. But seriously, LEO'S POV IS KINDA HARD FOR ME TO WRITE IN. I'M RE-READING HOO SO I CAN WRITE IN LEO'S POV BETTER.
But anyways, I'm going to focus more on this story and my other story, "People Like Us". I want OMO (On My Own) to kinda catch up with my main story "TDW: The Pearl of Chaos" since it is a side-story for it. I also want to work more on PLS (People Like Us), since it's a prequel story for "TDW: The Pearl of Chaos". So, expect more updates for this story!
Don't forget to leave a review and I'll see you next time!
~Ari