"Hey, Heaths! Katy! Lil sissy! Brunetty!" my step-sister, Belle, called as we got out of the car. I rolled my eyes as I started walking ahead of her. "So, who was that boy you were walking with?"

"A friend..." I answered, looking at her weirdly. We didn't really have a conversation in the car; mainly because I was asleep. Can you blame me? It's been a very rough day; you know, the whole Mr. Brunner and Grover acting like I was gonna die. Although, I did hear dad and Belle talking, but it was muffled. Something about a camp, I think? "Why?" I asked as I drank from the water bottle my dad bought for me.

"Well, I saw a something-something a while ago. You and that boy, what's-his-name, were walking together."she responded, wiggling her eyebrows as if she was hinting something, but I just simply quirked an eyebrow, still drinking my water. "Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend? I would have –" she started to interrogate me, but got cut off by me, widening my eyes and spitting the water inside my mouth. Unfortunately for her, the water landed on her face. If I'm ever with a boy, she'll conclude that the boy is my boyfriend. It's annoying, really. And I don't really see me and Percy dating or even have romantic feelings for each other in the future. (A/N: ASDFGHJKLHAMSHDHKSHSKSHSKSHK A)

"The boy you're talking about; his name is Percy, and first of all, he is not my 'boyfriend,' Bellarina." I defended, using air quotes. She glared at me while I smirked. Why, you ask? I called her by her real name. She hates it with a burning passion. Whenever I ask dad why her real name is 'Bellarina,' he says "Her mother was a ballerina back then. I guess she wanted Belle to be named after what she loves doing; in a unique way."But I also think she was still mad about me spitting on her. The glaring stopped after a whole five seconds, which surprised me.

"Oh come on! That Percy lad is cute, you know. You two will definitelylook good together!" she teased, smirking at me teasingly, but I just rolled my eyes.

"I'm twelve, Bellarina," I stated, rolling my eyes as I continued walking to the house. "And stop being a pedophile. He's twelve years old too; and you're like, twenty or something." She faked gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth.

"I'm eighteen. I will not tolerate to some kid who calls me pedophile." I flinched when she called me a kid. I don't hate it. I just dislike it – so much. I hated being called a kid. It's like if you're a kid, people will treat you like you're just... I don't know... a kid! And I absolutely despise it when people call me that. If someone says kid again, I might smack that person where it hurts so bad. She smirked at me mockingly, probably thinking 'PLEASE APPLY COLD WATER TO THE BURNT AREA.' No, I will not tolerate to that.

"You did notjust go there."

"Oops, I just did." she taunted, batting her eyelashes sweetly and smiling sarcastically. She's nice and all, but that doesn't mean we don't bicker or quarrel with each other. Watch and learn.

"Why do you always—"

"You're always nag this nag tha—"

"I don't nag, you twa—"

"Oh no you didn't! Why—"

"Oh shut it, Bellari—"

"Oh stop it, ki—"

"GIRLS! HEATHER! BELLE!" Dad butted in. I forgot dad was with us all along. Oh, right. He was going to be a 'better father,' and spend time with me us. With me.

"She started it!" Belle and I said unison while pointing our index finger at each other. My dad just shook his head and sighed. He looked up at us with a smile on his face, like he's used to this and missed it so much.

"Bels, why are you all wet?" Dad asked, looking at her up and down, quirking an eyebrow in the process.

"Ask. Her." she said through her teeth. Dad looked at me questioningly, both of his eyebrows quirking upward.

I smiled in a cute way, while swaying. "She said it was hot, daddy. So I did her a favour by showering her with water." I batted my eyelashes cutefully – if that's even a word. "Don't worry; it's mineral."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Welcome home, you two." He said as he bent down and poked both of our noses. He's 6'0, Belle's 5'4 (So short for an eighteen year old, but don't tell her that, or else she might kill me in my sleep.) while I – being the shortest one in the family – am 5'2. I will grow as time comes, I promise you that.

"Dad, I told you already. I don't like it when you poke my nose." Belle reminded, rubbing her nose with her right hand, but he just laughed. She gave him a look – which he quickly noticed and faked a cough.

"Let's go inside. I've already set everything up. Movie's picked out already, popcorn not yet popped, beverages are still in the refrigerator and sleeping bags – name it, it's there." Dad grinned as he ruffled my hair. "Now, Belle, go take a shower, or you'll get sick." Dad ushered, patting Belle's back as we went inside the house.

Maybe he wastrying to be a 'better father' and try to spend time with us. Marylin said that he cancelled a lot of meetings just to do this, which was very flattering if you ask me.

Although, he's been acting pretty weird lately. Whenever he calls me in school – which is like two or three times a month – he's rushing everything, like he's worried. The shortest conversation we had was like, 39 seconds. The longest? 1 minute and 4 seconds. Now, he's acting like a real dad. I'm not complaining, I'm happy that he's doing this and trying, but I'm curious about this. It's like he's hiding something...

Whatever it is...

I'm sure I'll find out. Because you can't keep a secret from me. If you do, I'll stalk you until I get what I want.

And that's what I'm gonna do.

"So, what movie are we going to watch, our dearest daddy?" I questioned, now dressed up in my pajamas.

"Mean Girls!" He said with jazz hands. Belle squealed. Unfortunately, she was beside me, meaning, my ear might be damaged. Her squeal is louder than anything; you will definitely become deaf if she was standing right next to you while squealing. I think I'll be dead if I hear it again; I had been lucky. I don't blame her though; both of us were a fan of Mean Girls. I love Regina George like I love McDonald's french fries. It lasts forever. Regina may be a – insert word here that rhymes with witch – but the character was played so well. Rachel McAdams will forever be my favourite actress.

"Dad, I love you, I love you, I love you!" Belle squealed in delight, and I can't help but laugh. Her ears turned pink. She quickly regained herself and faked coughed and tried to recover her fangirl moment by saying, "Uh, nice movie, my lovely father." Way to act casual, big sister. I know, I know, it should be 'step-sister' but I don't care. Blood or not, she's still my sister.

"Same old Belle." Dad shook his head and laughed. I joined in too. You should have seen her face. Priceless, I tell you. She glared at us and crossed her arms, which caused us to laugh more.

"Just play it already." she huffed and looked away from us. It was hard not to laugh and laugh... and laugh. I remember when I laughed so hard, milk came out of my nose. I'm not embarrassed one bit... Okay, a little bit, but that doesn't matter.

"Okay, okay. Let's stop," But that made us laugh more. "Just kidding, honey. Belle, please pop the popcorn."

"Yes!" she cheered. My eyes went wide.

"What's wrong, Heaths?" Dad questioned.

"But she'll eat all of the popcorn before the movie even starts!" I exclaimed. It was true. One time when I was in second grade – during summer – we went to the theatres downtown, and before the movie even started, she ate all the popcorn. We had to go outside and buy more. Three. Times.

"Belle, is that true?" Dad looked at me, then her, then me, then her, then me, then her. Basically, he repeated it for about 12 times.

"...Yes." Belle answered hesitantly. Dad nodded

"Heaths, you go make the popco—"

"YES!" I stood up and ran for my life, afraid that Belle might haunt me so she can kill me.

The movie ended 10 minutes ago. As of now, we were sitting in the middle of a bonfire outside our house, the backyard.

"Ha! Regina got run over by a bus!"

"So? Cady pushed her. DUH!" I argued, sticking my tongue out. Belle rolled her eyes while I rolled mine too.

"Girls," Dad warned before she could argue. "We're supposed to have fun, not bicker every minute."

"Sorry, dad." Belle and I apologized in unison. Oh, I am totally not surprised. This happens every time.

"I've been kind of stressed out lately. With you-know-what and all." Belle reasoned as Dad nodded like he understood.

I rolled my stick so the marshmallow wouldn't burn. He was right. We need to act like a family. Something we hadn't done in years. I never really knew what my dad's characteristics were until now. I forgot what he was really like.

He was always busy – being a businessman and all. I thought he was serious, has no sense of humour – whatsoever. But now, he's a joker, fun, loving and generous. I don't even know how he and mom got together. It was weird; knowing that my dad's kind of like a class clown while my mom was the 'magician' (as described by my very own father) which always got me clueless. My dad said I looked a lot like her.

"What do you mean? What's 'you-know-what?'" my question startled them – like what they said was a super confidential topic.

"Never mi –" Belle was about to dismiss but got cut off.

"Micheal! Micheal! MICHEAL!" Someone with a man-ish voice yelled. I turned to the direction where the voice came from.

I didn't hear any footsteps – it sounded more like... hooves? As in animal hooves. Why will there be an animal roaming around New York? Unless a stupid keeper/veterinarian/driver- who-drives-a-truck-full-of-zoo-animals 'accidentally' set the animal free. But a talking one? That's impossible.

"CODE RED! CODE RED! CODE RED!" The man – Wait, it's not a man. Dad quickly stood up – like he knew what it meant.

"GROVER?! What are you doing here?! And why are your legs..." I trailed off – not knowing what to say. His legs were furry and looked like a goat's legs. And I'm guessing he doesn't have any pants on, which was really awkward for me. "AND WHY ARE YOU NOT WEARING ANY PANTS?!"

"You mean... Please tell me it's kidding, dad?" Belle paled, ignoring my outburst.

"Hey! I'm a 'he.'" Grover defended, glaring at Belle. I would've laughed but this situation looked kind of serious.

"There's no time for this! Belle, you guard the house." Dad looked at me with a worried expression written all over his face. "Heather, let's go."

"Go where?" I interrogated, but they just made their way to the garage – where my dad's red Lamborghini is. I cautiously followed them. This is beyond weird. Am I dreaming? Please tell me I'm dreaming. Don't pinch me. "Where are we going?" I curiously asked but he just ignored me. "Dad, where are we going?!"

"Just trust me and get in the car." Dad responded sternly. Something in my head told me to just shut up and follow – which I did.

The car ride was silent – well, except for Grover, who was biting his nails and except for my constant whining, questions and complains.

It irked me that I didn't know anything that was happening. I'm a kind of person who needs to know everything that's happening and right now, I really, really, really need to know what's happening or I'll scream in annoyance.

"We have to pick-up someone first before we go to camp!" Grover frantically announced while biting his nails. This intrigued me; so I turned to Grover, who was sitting on the passenger's seat.

"What camp?" And of course, my question was ignored. "Who and where is that 'someone'?"

"Someone important." Grover responded, not looking at me but is still biting his nails.

Thank goodness someone finally answered me. I layed my head on the window. I was pretty sleepy. I was supposed to go to bed a while ago, but of course – you know what happened. And before I knew it, I already fell asleep.

{{Percy's P.O.V}}

"No!" I yelped, sitting up from my bed while panting.

Outside, it was really storming; the kind of storm that cracks trees and blows down houses. There was no horse or eagle on the beach, just lighting making false daylight, and twenty-foot waves pounding the dunes like artillery. Then, there was a sudden thunderclap that made me flinch.

"Hurricane." My mom suddenly blurted out of the blue with wide eyes.

I knew that was crazy. Long Island never have hurricanes this early in the summer, but the ocean seemed to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, I heard a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that made my hair stand on the end.

Then, a much closer noise – like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice, pounding on our cabin door, followed by another man screaming, "We have to hurry!"

Mom quickly sprang out of the bed in her nightgown and threw open the lock. There stood Grover, who was framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he didn't... wasn't exactly Grover. And next to him was a man who had dirty-blond hair in his thirties, carrying a girl with brown hair.

"Searching all night," Grover gasped, panting like he just ran in a marathon. "What were you thinking?"

Mom looked at me in terror – not scared of Grover, but why he came.

"Percy," mom shouted, because if she didn't, I wouldn't have heard it. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?" I froze, looking at Grover. I couldn't understand what I was seeing.

"O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" he yelled. "It was right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"

I was too shocked to register that he had just cursed in Ancient Greek and understood it perfectly. I was too shocked to wonder how Grover knew where we were and came here with a man – who's carrying a girl – in the middle of the night. Too shocked that Grover didn't have any pants on. And his legs... his legs... HIS LEGS?!

My mom looked at me sternly and talked in a tone she had never used before. "Percy, tell me now!"

I stammered something about the old ladies at the fruit stand, and Mrs. Dodds. After I finished she just stared at me, her face was deathly pale in the flashes of lightning. She hurriedly grabbed her purse, tossed me my rain jacket.

"Wait, Grover, who's this?" my mom asked while pointing at the guy who was carrying a girl who looked so familiar.

"This is Mr. McCarter. Heather, his daughter, was there when Mrs. Dodds attacked and was with us when we saw The Fates." Grover explained. Heather? As in the Heather McCarter I know?

"Is she okay?!" I asked while panicking. My mom looked at me, as if asking me who Heather is.

"She is. She's just sleeping. But please, we need a ride to camp because Mr. McCarter's car..." Grover pointed to the car that was upside down.

Mom nodded. "Get in my car. The three of you. Go!"

Grover ran for the Camaro – but he wasn't exactly running. He was trotting, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and suddenly his story about muscular disorder made sense to me. I understood how he can run so fact and still limp when he walked. Because he didn't have any feet. He had cloven hooves.

We tore through the night along the dark country roads. Wind slammed against the Camaro. Ran lashed the wind-shield. I didn't know how my mom could see anything, but she kept her foot on the gas.

Every time there was a flash of lighting, I looked at Grover, who was sitting next to me at the backseat and I wondered if I had gone insane, or if he was wearing some kind of shag-carpet pants or he'll look at me and say, "Surprise! Happy Halloween!"; But no, it's summer and the smell was one I remembered from kindergarten field trips to the petting zoo – lanolin, like from wool. The smell of a wet barnyard animal.

"So you, my mom and Heather's –" I pointed at Heather, who was sleeping like a baby right next to me."Dad, know each other?"

Grover's eyes flitted to the rear-view mirror, but there were no cars behind us.

"Not exactly. I mean, the three of us never met in person – well, I've met Heather's dad but that's it. But your mom knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?"

"Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend." He added the last part hastily. "I am your friend."

"Um... what are you, exactly?"

"That doesn't matter right now."

"It doesn't matter? From waist down, my best friend is a donkey –"

Grover let out a sharp, throaty, "Blaa-ha-ha!" I had heard him make that sound before, but I had always assumed that it was just a nervous laugh. Now I realized it was an irritated bleat. "Goat!" he corrected.

"What?"

"I'm a goat from the waist down."

"You just said it didn't matter."

"Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you underhoof for such an insult!"

"Whoa, wait. Satyrs. You mean like... Mr. Brunner's myths?"

"Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, Percy? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?"

"So you admit there was a Mrs. Dodds!"

"Of course."

"Then why –"

"The less you know, the fewer monsters you attract." Grover explained, like that should be perfectly obvious. "We put Mist over the humans' eyes. We hoped you and Heather would think the Kindly One was a hallucination. But it was no good. You guys started to realize who you are."

"Who I–wait a minute, what do you mean?"

The weird bellowing noise rose up again somewhere behind us, closer than before. Whatever was chasing us was still on our trail. And I had a feeling eit wasn't a good thing.

"Percy, there's too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you and Heather to safety."

"Safety from what? Who's after me? Who's after us?"

"Oh, nobody much," Grover replied sarcastically, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions."

"Grover!" Mr. McCarter scolded.

"Sorry, Mr. McCarter. Could you drive faster, Mrs. Jackson, please?" Grover plead nervously.

I tried to wrap my mind around what was happening but I just couldn't do it. I knew this wasn't a dream. I had no imagination, whatsoever. I could never dream up something this weird. My mom made a hard left. We served onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills and 'PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES' signs on white picket fences.

"Where are we going?" I asked, looking around.

"The summer camp I told you about." my mother's voice was tight; she was trying for my sake not to be scared. "The place your father wanted to send you."

"The place you didn't want me to go." I reminded.

"Please, dear," my mother begged. "This is hard enough. Try to understand. You're in danger."

"Because some old ladies cut a yarn." I spat, rolling my eyes.

"Percy, please listen to your mother." Heather's dad plead.

"Those weren't just old ladies," Grover butted in. "Those were The Fates. Do you know what it means – the fact that they appeared in front of you and Heather? They only do that when you're about to... when someone's about to die."

"Whoa, you said 'you'."

"No I didn't. I said 'someone'."

"You meant 'you', as in me."

"I meant 'you,' like 'someone'. Not you, you. But technically I said 'you're' which also means 'someone,' not you're, you're."

"Dude, that didn't make any sense."

"BOYS!" mom shouted as she pulled the wheel hard to the right. I caught a glimpse of a figure she had swerved to avoid. I heard something bump on my right side which made me jump. I looked to my right and sure enough Heather bumped her head on the window.

I expected her to wince or groan or scream or curse but she just stayed still.

"She's a heavy sleeper, you know." I jumped; hitting my head against the roof, causing me to wince. I saw Mr. McCarter – Heather's dad – looking at me from the passenger seat. He chuckled. "Sorry about that. I've heard a lot about you."

I simply nodded and managed to send him a small smile. "Really? She talks about me a lot?"

"Nah. Her step-sister teases her all the time about you and her being together or something." I felt heat come up on my face. I looked at the window to not embarrass myself, and suddenly remembered something. Something I was supposed to ask seconds ago.

"Mom, what was that? The dark fluttering shape I saw, I mean." I asked.

"We're almost there," my mom assured herself, ignoring my question. "Another mile. Please, please, please."

I didn't know where 'there' was, but I found myself leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting us to arrive. Outside, nothing but ran and darkness – the kind of empty countryside you get way out of Long Island.

I thought about Mrs. Dodds and the moment she had changed into the thing with pointed teeth and leathery wings. She wasn't human at all. She was only there to kill me and Heather. But what about Mr. Brunner? The pen he threw; and the weird barrier the first time Mrs. Dodds lunged at us.

But before I could ask Grover about that, the hair rose on the back of my neck. There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom! and our car exploded.

{{Heather's P.O.V.}}

I regret falling asleep. I don't really know what I dreamt about. All I remember was, I was somewhere; somewhere where it's pitch dark. And there was a man speaking with a cold and hostile voice – but when I looked around, I was all alone. I don't particularly remember what he said; but I can still hear it inside my head, echoing as if I was in a cave. I don't particularly remember what it said, but —

BOOM!

I began to feel weightless, like I was being crushed, fried and hosed down at the same time. The pain felt excruciating. It was the worst feeling I ever felt since I was born or when I broke my arm, but that's another story.

A woman's voice shouted something but it was muffled.

"Heaths! Are you okay?" my dad shouted. I nodded, even though I know that he couldn't see me.

"I'm okay..." A croaked voice spoke. Someone... Wait, it's not just someone. Percy?! I opened my eyes but closed them quickly. My body was aching like crazy. I tried to shake it off. I wasn't dead, thankfully.

I sit up and finally opened my eyes. The roof of the car was opened like an eggshell and rain was pouring in. It was burned. Lighting, maybe? There was a groan which made me jump, hitting my head on the roof. Unfortunately, the roof was hot.

"Grover!"

My reflexes kicked in and slapped the person next to me. He or she winced but I'm guessing it's a 'he' considering that if I had hit a girl, that girl would scream so loud.

"Sorry, whoever you are." I muttered, my eyes still closed.

"Heather, it's Percy." I heard Percy say. I quickly opened my eyes, quickly found him, rubbing his left cheek, mumbling 'ow.'

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!"

"... It's okay."

I looked around. I saw a figure lumbering towards us on the shoulder of the road. It was a dark silhouette of a huge guy, like a football player, I presume. He seemed to be holding a blanket over his head. His top half was bulky and fuzzy. His upraised hands made it look like he had horns.

I'm gonna call it Mr. Fluffyhorns.

"Dad, who's t—"

"Kids, get out of the car." A woman, who looks like Percy, said. Maybe she is Percy's mom. Her voice was deadly serious, which made me shudder. Not because of the voice. Because of the hidden message in it. Something's going to happen. Something bad.

I immediately tried to open my side of the door. It was stuck. I looked at the roof. All of us can get out through the roof; although, that seemed like a bad option. It was sizzling and smoking.

"Climb out the passenger's side!" Percy's mom instructed frantically. "You guys have to run! You see that big tree?"

"I'm sorry, what?" Another flash of lightning and through the smoking hole in the roof, I saw what she meant: A huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill.

"That's the property line," Dad's voice said. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door. Trust us, it's safe there."

"No, you guys are coming too." I immediately said, getting the message that they didn't plan on coming.

"Yes! You guys are coming with us. Help me carry Grover, Heather." Mr. Fluffyhorns kept coming towards us making his grunting, snorting noises. As he got closer, I realized he's not holding a blanket over his head, because his huge, meaty hands were swinging at his sides. Meaning, the bulky fuzzy mass that was too big to be his head... was his head. And he points that looked like horns were real horns.

"He doesn't want us. He wants you both. Besides, we can't cross the property line." Percy's mom explained, looking at Percy with a worried and concern face.

"What about my dad? Can't he cross too?" I squeaked, finally having the courage to speak.

"I can't Heather; unlike you two – three, if you include Grover – we're mortals. We aren't special like the both of you." Dad explained, a sad look on his face. Mrs. Jackson nodded.. "I'm sorry to say this, but I'm afraid you have to go on without us. Now go!"

"But..."

"We don't have time, guys. Go. Please. This is for your own safety." Ms. Jackson mom pleaded.

Percy climbed across Grover and pushed the door open into the rain and said, "We're going together."

"I told you –"

"Mom! I am not leaving you." Percy declared, his voice rising.

"I'm not leaving you too, dad." I added, shaking my head. Percy nodded.

"Heather, help me with Grover." Percy ordered, looking at me sternly. I nodded and turned to Grover who was passed out.

"Food!" Grover groaned. Percy and I scrambled outside, dragging Grover from the car. He was surprisingly light, but if Percy wasn't here, I wouldn't be able to carry him that far – considering I'm very weak at the moment.

Together, we draped Grover's arms over our shoulders and started stumbling uphill through wet waist-high grass.

Percy glanced at the thing behind us, but I didn't dare to look at it. I got my first clear look at the monster a while ago, and I had a feeling it had to do with greek mythology – just like Grover. I can't really get the image out of my head, so I'll describe it for you.

He was at least seven or eight feet tall, his arms and legs are like something you see in muscle competitions – bulging biceps and triceps and a bunch of other 'ceps. It didn't wear any clothes, it looks like it's wearing diapers. I would've laughed, but this really isn't the time to do that. Coarse brown hair started at about his belly button and got thicker as it reached his shoulders.

His neck was a mass of muscle and fur leading up to his enormous head, which had a snout as long as my arm, snotty nostrils with a gleaming brass ring, cruel black eyes, and enormous black-and-white horns with points you just couldn't get from an electric sharpener. Sharper than the scissors the old ladies used, that's for sure.

I recognized the monster minutes ago. But it can't be true. Although, there is a satyr here, so I really didn't have much of a choice rather than believe that there was an actual minotaur right behind us.

"That's –" Percy was about to say, but got cut off by Mrs. Jackson.

"Pasiphae's son," She answered right behind us.. "I wish I had known how badly they want to kill you."

"But he's the Min—"

"Don't say its name," dad warned. "Names have power."

The pine tree was still way too far – a hundred yards uphill at least. I finally had the courage to glance back.

The Minotaur hunched over the car, looking in the windows—or not looking, exactly. More like snuffling, nuzzling. I wasn't sure why he bothered, since we were only about fifty feet away. I don't really care if its name is 'tabooed,' if you fear the name, they'll gain more power anyway. Yes, this is what Harry Potter did to me.

"Food?" Grover moaned, tossing and turning.

"Shhh," Percy hushed, bringing his hand up to his face. "Mom, what's he doing? Doesn't he see us?"

"His sight and hearing are terrible," Mrs. Jackson responded, looking the fur ball that was heading towards us. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough."

As if on cue, the monster roared in rage. He picked up the car by the torn and burned roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the wet and damp road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of
sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop. The gas tank exploded.

I'm gonna die young... I thought frantically with wide eyes, mumbling inaudible foul invective words.

"Percy, Heather," my dad called, causing my attention to flicker on him. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way – directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

"How do you two know all about this?" I interrogated, looking at Mrs. Jackson and my dad sternly.

"I've been worried about an attack for a long time. That's why I wanted to spend time with you this summer. After a week, I was supposed to bring you to the camp I told you about, but I didn't expect this tragedy." dad answered, looking down at his feet.

"Me too. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me, Percy." Mrs. Jackson added, shaking her head.

"Keeping me near you? But –"

Another bellow of roar of rage and anger, and the monster started tromping uphill.

He had smelled us already.

The pine tree was only a few more meters, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker, I might slip because of the clumsy person I am, and also because Grover wasn't getting any lighter.

The Mr. Fluffyhorns closed in.

"Percy, Heather, go!" Mrs. Jackson ordered. "Separate from us! Remember what I said."

I didn't want to split up, but I had the feeling she was right – it was our only
chance. I sprinted to the left, turned, and saw the creature looking down at us. I whimpered; I felt like an ant.

His black eyes glowed with hate. He reeked like a dead mouse that had been decaying for years.

He lowered his head and charged, those razor-sharp horns aimed straight at my chest.

The violent butterflies in my stomach made me want to bolt, but that wouldn't work. I could never outrun this thing, nonetheless run in my state. I was too busy staring at the monster's eyes, I didn't even notice Percy jumping to the side, yanking me.

Mr. Fluffyhorns stormed past like a freight train, then roared in frustration and turned, but not toward me us. Something in the pit of my stomach got pulled like a guy who's riding a bull but got thrown off. It turned to my and Percy's parent, making me want to yell and be the bait, but Percy yanked me once more.

We finally reached the crest of the hill. Down the other side I could see a valley, just as Mrs. Jackson had said, and the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the hard rain. But it looked like it was half a mile away. We'll never make it in time, that's for sure.

Mr. Fluffyhorns grunted, pawing the ground. He kept eyeing my dad and Percy's mom, who were now retreating slowly downhill, back toward the road, trying to be the bait so the monster would keep away from Grover.

"Run!" dad yelled. "We can't go any farther. Run!"

But I was frozen in fear, as the monster charged at them. Mrs. Jackson tried to sidestep and dad tried to jump out of the way, but the monster learned his lesson. Its right hand shot out and grabbed Mrs. Jackson by the neck as she tried to get away. He lifted her as she struggled, kicking and pummeling the air.

"Mom!"

The monster held up its left hand and grabbed my father by the neck. I wanted to scream so badly, but I can't. I was frozen. Dad was squirming, struggling to breathe.

Dad caught my eyes, managed to choke out one last word: "Go!"

Then, with an angry roar, the monster closed his fists around Mrs. Jackson and my dad's neck, and they dissolved before my eyes, melting into light, a shimmering golden form, as if she were a holographic projection.

"No!" I managed to yell. Anger and sadness replaced the fear. I felt a surge of strength in me. Adrenaline rush.

The furry and smelly creature a bore down on Grover, who was laying helpless on the grass. The monster hunched over, snuffling Grover, as if he was about to lift him up and make him dissolve into the gold dust too.

I wouldn't allow that. I couldn'tallow that.

"Hey!" Percy screamed, waving his jacket, running to one side of the monster. I followed his lead.

"Hey, stupid smelly ground beef!"

"Roooaaaarrrrr!" The monster turned towards us, shaking his meaty fists like a drunken gorilla.

Percy put his back on the big pine tree and waved his red jacket in front of the monster, thinking we can jump out of the way at the last moment so it will run into the tree. Percy motioned me to join on his side. The only thing I was wearing now is a baggy t-shirt and pyjamas that had banana prints, which was now wet much to my dismay. I obeyed instantly.

But it didn't happen like that he thought it would.

The monster charged too fast for my liking; but it was as if time slowed down.

My legs felt like jelly. I couldn't jump sideways, so I leaped straight up, kicking off from the creature's head, jumping on its icky shoulder. Percy jumped on the other side too.

Not a second later, the monster's head slammed into the tree and the impact nearly knocked my teeth out. The monster staggered around, trying to shake the both of us, but I locked my arms around his horns to keep from being thrown down the muddy ground. Thunder and lightning were still going strong. The fact that it was raining made the monster smell worse. The smell of rotten meat and dead mouse burned my nostrils, causing me to scrunch my nose in disgust.

The monster shook itself around and bucked like a rodeo bull. I rode a rodeo bull once, and trust me, it hurt if you fell down.

"Food!" I heard Grover moan.

The specie wheeled toward him, pawed the ground again, and got ready to charge. Rage filled me. He is not gonna harm someone again this time. I got both hands around one horn and I pulled backward with all my might. The monster tensed, gave
a surprised grunt, then – snap!

The creature screamed in agony and flung me through the air. I landed flat on my back in the grass.

My head smacked against a the pine tree. When I sat up, my vision was blurry, but I had a horn in my hands, ragged bones weapon the size of a knife. The monster lunged at us again, just like how Mrs. Dodds did at the museum.

Without thinking, I rolled to one side and came up kneeling. As the monster sprinted past, I drove the broken horn straight into its side, right up under its rib cage.

The monster roared in agony. He flailed around; clawing at his chest, then began to disintegrate just like how Mrs. Dodds did. The smell of sulfur was present, with a hint of decaying mouse.

The monster was gone.

The rain had stopped. The storm still rumbled, but only in the distance. I smelled like livestock and my knees were shaking.

And in that moment, I blacked out.

The last thing I remember is collapsing on a wooden porch, looking up at a ceiling fan circling above me, moths flying around a yellow light, and the stern faces of a familiar-looking bearded man and a blond haired girl.

They both looked down at me, and the girl said, "They're the one. They must be."

"Silence, Annabeth," the man hushed. "Both of them are still conscious. Bring them inside.

Yeah, suckish. I'm so sorry about that. I might adjust it if I suddenly get an idea. Favorite? Review? Follow? I'll love you forever! ;)