As a child, I don't remember anytime, anywhere, in any situation where I found myself throwing a tantrum. It was a natural order of events. Like, just how could anyone in their right mind throw a tantrum on Sally Jackson, the kindest person in the whole wide world. I loved that woman, still do and from a very young age, I understood when she lacked the means to give me anything I needed, because I could see her struggle to raise me and the bundle of problems I came with as a demigod even though I never knew I was one till later on.

I've never even thrown a tantrum on Poseidon. I mean, this was a god known for his very righteous fury and also for some of the worst and sadistic punishments known to man. He once made a man's wife fall in love with a bull for refusing to offer the same bull to him as sacrifice. Not that I feared him ever doing that to me, but my knowledge of him being a god placed him on a pedestal which was labeled, ' do not piss off, there are lines even his son cannot cross' which was a label I read very well and took to heart.

Which is why, with my history of non-tantrums, I found myself feeling very awkward, screaming and throwing kicks and punches as Exorcist Mitchell Walker and one of the nuns pulled me away from our class and dragged me away, the other kids watching me with surprised expressions.

I think I even surprised know it all Isaiah.

And now you're asking yourself, why would the ever so mature Perseus Jackson, ever throw a tantrum?

Well, that's because I had one those genius ideas of mine. Don't worry, this wasn't like the eat very much to gain strength quicker to escape this place. That was a total bust. No, this was an even better one.

For you to understand it better, I have to slowly walk you through the details. I've already mentioned how I never took God as a real character, but lately, my opinion has started to take a bit of a turn around.

Why?

Holy Power.

The nuns and Father Valper said it was His power, the power he used to create the world. And like I mentioned before, I've felt divine power before. Every god I've met before had power that resonated with his or her domain. For instance, my first meeting with Dionysus, the moment I looked into his eyes, images of people drowning themselves in bottles of wine, of being tangled and choked with vines whose hooky thorns dug into their skins, falling into disastrous fits of madness filled my mind. My first meeting with Zeus, I could literally feel static energy radiating from him, and I could tell he was straining very hard not to strike me dead at the time.

Point is, I've met a lot of gods in my time as a demigod. But, none of their power ever felt like this. Overwhelming, yes, dangerous, yes, maddening, yes...evil ,yes. But Pure? Never, not even once.

You are also aware of how I've lived the past six years waking up to Bible verses and sleeping to Catholic prayers every day right? Well, up until last year, when I first had a dose of Holy energy, I've never once taken even a peek at a Bible.

Well, now I had to , because a) I was curious and b) the idea I'm about to tell you now depended on it. Did I believe everything that was written on it? Due to past experiences as a half deity, I learnt never to just take everything as it is. For example, we all know how Hercules is the greatest, most coolest and chillest Hero to walk the Earth, right? Well, did you also know that to finish his second last task, he had to receive help from a Hesperide named Zoe Nightshade who he promised to free her from Mount Orthyrs and take her with him to his many travels once he was done but ended up breaking his promise and left the girl to suffer alone after her family discarded her? No? Of course not. Doesn't seem so cool and chill now, does he? Anyway, straying from the point. I applied the exact same principle here. There is always another point of view missed and not written, another account related to the story not recorded.

But, luckily for me none of what was not written or what was exaggerated was needed in my plan.

According to the good book, God created the world in seven days. The Greek version of the story states that primordials just started appearing out of the Chaos of nothingness. Which version seems more realistic, I'll let you be the judge of that. Anyway, we were taught at whatever this institution was, that Holy power, is God's own power. Meaning, that in order to create, God used His power, Holy power, to pull to things into reality.

We were also taught, that we were the children of God. Famous words I once heard in my previous life '... let us make man in our own image ...' Turns out, they were from the bible. A mystery I literally solved in my next life.

In my previous life, I was the direct child of a god, among his many children in the thousands of years that had passed. In this life, as I'm sure you've guessed by now, I am a descendant of God, a legacy of Adam, the first human to be created.

Weird way of thinking, but hey, my last life was beyond weird. Bringing abnormality into this life was just my way of coping. And right now, we're gonna see if my thought process malfunctioned with being reborn.

Mitchell Walker and the nun, Judith, I think ( hated my guts like you wouldn't believe...she was the cook) dragged me away as I quite literally frothed at the mouth while yelling and spontaneously moving my limbs and my head. I was really putting the performance of a lifetime. Father Valper was right about having a strong foundation since I could tell that Walker was having trouble holding onto me. Sister Judith's strength was fueled by her hate of me which caused her to square her jaws and tighten her hold around me.

There were very many hallways in the institution I was a prisoner of, most of which I had scoured through during my frequent nightly expeditions. Turns out, there were actually dungeons in this place. Whoever put them in a place meant to train kids was obviously psychotic, but I bet that didn't surprise you anymore.

I knew that was where they were going to take me, I counted on it and based on the directions we were taking, I was right. It was hard to stay in character when everything was falling into place, I almost smiled. But, I persevered, gagging and spitting as I struggled under their grip. Now, I considered it an achievement when I made an exorcist who was used to fighting demons grunt when he forced me down the flight of dark stairs that led to the dungeons. A part of my earliest plan was working perfectly.

Once we got into the cells, cold dark rooms with reinforced doors ( for a bunch of kids, wasn't that overkill?), I was dragged to the farthest one down the hall of misery and shoved into one of the rooms.

"Let me out! Why are you putting me here? Let...let me out!" My voice was raw from the stellar shouting I had just come from doing. I banged my not -so -chubby- anymore fingers on the metal doors as Walker and Sister Judith stared at me from the other side though a hole at the top with bars within it to quell any thoughts of escape. Their eyes were filled with a loathing I was used to seeing from my uncles. Sister Judith because I ate more than I should and she knew I snuck to the kitchen at night to eat the food she'd prepared for the next day which she had no way of proving since I was an assassin when it came to such matters , and Mitchell Walker, since I was his worst student. You would think that due to my size problem that the guy would cut me some slack, but noooooo, he pushed me harder than any of the kids. Pretty sure Father Valper put him up to it, which was one of the things I agreed with him. I didn't want to be like this, my plan wasn't supposed to go like this. I wanted all the fat I'd stored to be converted to energy, to stop being the last at every physical activity and being forced to do extra rounds and most of all, to stop being sluggish at sword practice.

Did I mention we started sword training?

No?

Well, when Mitchell Walker said his classes were gonna be more practical less theoretical, that was what he meant. Sword training. I was excited about it at first, since, in my previous life, I was the best version of myself as a swordsman, before even putting my abilities as a Son of Poseidon. I missed the weight of Riptide in my hand as I hacked away at monsters and various other enemies. But, all that excitement came crashing down the moment I was paired of with...wait for it... Isaiah, of course...and he brought me down to my chubby butt within minutes. The guy was just too quick for me and my sluggish movements to follow. Now, compared to Isaiah, I had previous experiences with using a sword, I was taller, broader and stronger than him, but I failed miserably because a) being bigger than him made me an easier target, b) he was quicker than me and, c) it would be unfair to him for me to use my past battle experiences on a five year old. There was no honor in beating a child...even if said child was a little monster on his own.

" You are going to stay there until you stop acting like a rabid animal." Mitchell growled. The guy really didn't like oke me it seemed.

"Im sorry, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, please, just don't leave me here, please " i begged" I'm scared of the dark, please, Sister Judith "

"Scared of the dark you say? Where was that fear when you broke into the kitchen at night to eat food that didn't belong to you?"

"I stopped, didn't I?" I cried out.

"Because we had to use coded locks which you couldn't pick." she shrieked, her face red with fury. Yeesh.

"I'm sorry, I will never repeat it. Please, let me out, please."

"No, if you're not taught, you'll never learn." Mitchell Walker said.

And with that, they both walked away with what I assumed to be smug smiles on their faces. To bad they didn't turn back to ask why I wasn't yelling for them to return. If they did, they would have seen the even smugger( not sure that's a word) grin on my face.

Time to begin.