Best of Both Worlds

Chapter 7: The Nightmares Are Back. . .

Now I'm back with Sam. Hopefully- and I mean hopefully- you understand how much Camp Half-Blood had changed since the war with Gaea. But what makes Sam so special? And why did Gill react so badly when Dylan told him that the quality found in him was what he found in Sam? Maybe you can understand how much by the end of the story. . .

I was running.

Running so hard. What was going on?

Where were mom and dad?

Why weren't they coming out of the house?

My heart was pounding in my chest. Mom promised that they would be coming. Soon. But something was wrong. Then there was the sound of a piercing scream. My heart stopped. Cold sweat covered my body and ice was shot into my blood.

I have never felt that cold ever since that night.

Then the dream shifted before I could do anything. Before I could let my horrors wash me once again. It was dark, but not enough where I couldn't see my hand stretched out in front of me. I could feel the bitter cold air against my skin and suddenly became aware of the fact I was in little to no clothing. Why was I in a dress? It was a startling gray with a bright blue trim around the edges. To top it all off was a bright blood red cape falling to the ground behind me. What was going on? Of all things the dress had to be a deep cleavage with no sleeves.

This wasn't a dress meant for an eleven year old girl.

Then I glanced at myself more carefully. Something was different. Something wrong. My legs were longer, hips wider, and the tightness of the dress around my stomach showed that I was much more active then I was now. This is a dream of the future. It hit me hard, and I instantly knew that I needed to find out all the information I could possibly get. I gently patted my body, finding no weapons there.

Mental note one: need to have weapons on hand.

I pulled my left hand, holding it back unless I needed it. Dad made sure his little girl knew how to fight with fists before she handled the kitchen knives. The air was thick with sweat, so I had to be underground. It even had the metallic taste of a sewer. Why I would be here in the first place in a dress is only a question I can't answer. There was a fork in the pathway. To the right led down into darkness and the other led upstairs to the light.

Then there were voices.

"Can we trust her?"

"We have to-"

"-but how are you sure?"

The voice was getting angrier.

"Because the girl is a child. She doesn't understand the choices that she makes."

"What of her parents?"

"Decreased in the fire twelve years ago."

I could feel the color drain from my face. So I was fifteen years old right now. It explains why I look like a high-schooler.

"And the boy, Gill Matthews?"

There was a horrible laugh.

"Dead by the gods."

No. No. No. No. Gill! Tears filled my eyes and spilled over. My legs seemed to collapse on me and I fell to the ground hard. My heart squeezed together so hard I couldn't breathe, just staring into the steps of the words of the men. I started to shake, throwing a violent fit.

What was wrong with me?

"But what of the girl?" The second guy demanded with an angrier tone.

"She'll be dead in less than a few hours."

Somehow I got to my feet. Then I turned to the tunnel to the right and ran into it, being silent as a ghost.

Gill wasn't dead.

This wasn't happening.

Not again.

"NO!"

My body launched itself forward; pelvis up twisting in a painful movement then fell back to the bed. Somehow I couldn't stop screaming 'no!' and couldn't listen to anything at that moment. My heart was pounding in my chest so hard, beyond-ending tears making my eyes burn, and my throat feeling like a forest fire was raging in it.

"Calm down Samantha!"

Then something touched my arm, setting me off once again. I screamed and twisted to get away as possible.

"Stay away from me! Stay away from me!"

"Something's wrong with her," I heard a voice said.

"Go get the boy," another voice answered. "Now!"

I continued to scream, tears and sweat sliding down my face and body. What was wrong with me? Then I heard the door open, a boy's voice crying out when they saw me.

"Samantha!"

He hit me across the face. I screamed in pain as a sob escaped me.

"Stay away from me!" I screamed. "Get away from me!"

Then I felt someone grab me, pulling me against them. I started to fight the person, my hands making connections before I could register what was going on. The boy cried out in pain but held on tighter as I fought and twister even harder.

"Stop this Sam!" the boy grunted. "I'm not here to hurt you!"

The man leaned over me, his face inches from mine.

"You will always belong to me."

"Stop!" I sobbed. "Leave me alone!"

"Never."

"Sam! It's Dylan!"

"No." I whispered as more tears slid down my face.

Then I broke down sobbing, collapsing upon the body holding me. His voice whispered in my ear, and then did I truly know that it was Dylan.

"Everything's ok," he whispered. "He isn't going to hurt you Sam. Everything's okay."

"No," I sobbed, "he'll come back. He'll come back."

"No he won't," his voice turned hard as his arms around me tightened. "He is never going to touch you again."

It took a long time getting me back to normal. I took in a deep breath and started to laugh shakily. I couldn't look at Dylan in the eyes. Then I took my arms that were tight around him and wiped my face. Bloody tears and snot was left in its wake.

"Are you okay?" he asked me.

I was only able to nod, but my throat was tight with pain. He knew I was lying.

He squeezed me hard.

"Let's go to the beach, Sam," he said as he climbed off of the table.

Off a table? What the hell was I doing on a table? But sure enough I was because the wood dug painfully on my back. The room was covered in wood, but the walls were painted blue. The ceiling was white and windows were everywhere drawn closed. Old chairs were leaning against the walls, almost looking as though they hadn't been used in a long time.

"Where am I?" I managed to whisper.

Dylan grinned.

"Come off the table and you'll see."

I couldn't help but smile at what he said. Then everything hit me. Passing out on the grass, the monsters, the girl. Gill. My throat tightened. Then there was the dream. . .

Dylan must have seen my face because he extended his hand.

"I promise to explain everything," he said, "but I need you to come with me to fully get what's going on."

"No she isn't." a cold voice said.

I spun around to see the girl leaning against the wall a few feet away from me. How did I not see her? Her image seemed to flicker, showing that she was a ghost. Her thick black hair was now lose like a waterfall and ended at her waist. Something clicked in my mind because I know who she was. Dad talked about her a lot.

"What do you mean, Alex?" Dylan asked.

"She needs to rest for starters." She answered with staring at me. "And the screaming fit she just gave off needs to be looked at."

Dylan must have frowned at her.

"Gill wanted to see her and show her the camp before he leaves."

The girl, Alex, shrugged her shoulders. She had this amused smile playing on her face.

"Go on then," she said, "but tell Gill to be careful with her."

Dylan finally got me out five minutes later with me in clean clothes and with my dagger. The girl didn't seem to want to hand it over, but she still gave it to me. What was her problem anyway? It was bright outside when I finally got back out. I ended up having to wear sunglasses to finally get me to see. Dylan seemed to know where he was going, because he just dragged me along even though I was tripping all over the place.

I could hear people laughing and the sounds of swords clashing together. Then the sounds dying into nothing.

"Who do you have there, Dylan?" a breathy girl's voice questioned.

Slut.

"Showing the new girl around." He answered.

I bit my lip and forced my eyes open. Then I registered what was going on. It was the sword fighting class alright. And suddenly I didn't want to be here with all of these swords against me. There were at least fifty people staring at me, and suddenly I felt so conscious of the clothes Alex said I should wear. She got me into army clothes with black combat boots included. Everyone that I saw had either had a blue, orange, red, or purple shirt with Camp Half-Blood printed on it. Guess dad didn't get the memo with the colors. Then jean shorts with Airwalk shoes.

"Out of my way everyone."

My throat tightened.

Kids grumbled and parted ways for a twelve year old with black clothing. His black hair shined a dark brown in the light, but his dark eyes showed a different darkness that made her shiver. It was a dark pool and she could tell it was deep with only a second of locking eyes with him. But his body showed that he was angry and cold. Nothing she saw the last time she was awake.

"So the girl finally awakes."

I held my ground without moving and kept my eyes on his. I wasn't going to show weakness. Then I took off the borrowed sunglasses and held his eyes longer as he walked toward me. His spine was tight as a board and I realized he was in charge. So I better watch what I was saying. I shrugged and put the glasses in the back pocket of the army pants.

"I was wondering the same thing myself."

Kids watched us with shock at me. Did nobody talk back to the guy? Apparently not because he drew a sword and tried to chop off my arm. I dodged it without moving my legs, but anger lit in me. What the hell was this guy's problem?

"You will call me Matt, Samantha."

He growled with his sword still extended a few inches from my stomach.

"My name is Sam," I snapped back. "Not Samantha."

I must have done it because kids gasped. Then they all took a few steps back away from us.

"Gill. . ." Dylan said slowly.

Gill, Matt, gave me the dirtiest look I ever gotten. Then he took a few steps back and turned around. Something in his leg twitched and then he spun around, trying to slice me open. I threw my arms back, going into a back flip with my legs split vertical to dodge the blade from cutting me. Kids gasped, but I ignored them.

Don't let anything distract you.

When my feet landed, I pulled out my pen, tossed it in the air with the cap off, and ducked as Gill's sword sailed over my head with centimeters to spare. My sword landed in my hand and our swords clashed together. We fought throwing slashes, stabs, and somewhat trying to figure out each other's moves. He knew I could fight, but he was beginning to see how far that truly went. And I could tell that Gill was going to kill me if I didn't do anything.

Then I faked a trip. I fell down hard and Gill's sword fell toward me. My sword was drawn high so his sword would cut me open, but the weight of it was heavy. I got Gill by surprise, so he didn't even realize what I did until it was too late. I managed to get my leg between his legs as I fell and then yanked it against his left one. He fell on his back and I threw the sword off of mine. I launched my body against his and held him as the point of my sword went into his neck.

We were both panting, but for some reason I loved it.

I loved being on top of him.