Chapter 5

Timothy sighed as he stepped to the door of cabin five. His heart pounded like a machine gun, to say he was nervous would be an understatement. He was beyond terrified. From what Alexander told him, cabin five was home to some of the most psychotic campers in all of Camp Half-Blood, which didn't make him feel any better since he would have to live with those psychos.

He could hear the sound of rock music blaring from inside the cabin, he liked rock music but right now, he was too terrified. The sound of yelling could be heard, signifying that the rowdy and scary inhabitants of the cabin were indeed inside.

Timothy's fist shook as he raised and knocked on the door, each knock sounded like a explosion. He was sure that being a son of Ares was nice and all, but he really wished he was the son of literally anyone else right now.

The door swung open, and Timothy nearly cried. Standing in front of him was a Asian guy about two years his senior. He was huge, his muscles weren't veiny like the typical bodybuilder competitor, but they were far bigger than Timothy's own. Timothy thought he was a big guy but the guy in front of him was easy a foot taller and far bulkier, his strength had to be through the roof.

Timothy knew he couldn't fight this guy if he had to. He was strong and somewhat built but he knew he didn't stand a chance. He was far too small to try to hold his own against the monster of a guy in front of him.

"What do you want, dumbass?" He asked in a gruff voice.

"Hey, I, uh, Chiron told me that I belong in this cabin." Timothy said like he was talking to a teacher after being late to class.

The guy eyed him, his dark brown eyes were hard and downright scary. It was like staring into the eyes of a angry bear. His face was a little on the rough side, it made him look less like handsome warrior guy and more rugged woodsman.

"You? Belong in this cabin?" The guy said, a smile starting to grow across his face, "No way!"

Timothy cringed as he threw his head back and let out a roar of a laugh. Yet he knew he had to stand his ground, if he left now, he'd never be able to show his face around cabin five ever again.

The guy wiped his eyes as he finished laughing, he looked up, "You're still here?"

"Chiron said I belong here." Timothy said firmly, "He said all of Ares's kids belong here."

"Ah, so dad had another kid. Alright, rookie, get in here."

Timothy didn't really walk into the cabin, it was more like the guy just grabbed him and yanked him into the cabin. He stumbled over his feet as he was let go, he nearly tripped over his own two feet.

He looked around and instantly, he knew he was dead meat. The cabin was filled with all guys and every single one of them was in tip-top shape. Some of them were leaner than others while some of them were absolute hulks. Regardless, Timothy knew he couldn't handle most of them, if not all of them.

One of the guys reached over and shut off the radio playing the rock music. They all stared at him with blank stares. No gazes of anger or judgement, just blank stares like goldfish. The room was dead quiet as all the conversations ceased.

"Alright, everyone, I'd like to introduce you all to our newest guppy!" The huge guy said, throwing his arm over Timothy.

Guppy? Timothy thought hysterically.

"I'm Sherman." The big guy said, "I'll be your cabin counselor. Mind telling us what's your name or do you wanna be called Guppy?"

"Timothy." He replied, "My name is Timothy."

Sherman turned to the rest of the cabin, "Ya'll hear that? His name's Timothy!"

"Hello, Timothy." Everyone in the cabin said in unison. Timothy felt like he was about to get sacrificed or something.

The scene in front of him reminded him of that one scene in Finding Nemo, the one where Dory was introducing herself to the sharks.

"Alright, boys, you know what to do!" Sherman shoved him forward.

"Wait, what the fu—" Timothy yelled, only to be cut off when everyone sprung from their spots and rushed him. He tried fighting back, he did everything he could, he punched, elbowed, kicked, yelled, yet it was all in vain as his new brothers held him down.

Sherman pulled out a huge hunting knife from his belt and knelt down, pressing the blade to his neck, "First phase of your initiation, one question."

Timothy stared up at Sherman with terrified eyes. The other guys looked down at him with devilish looks.

"Do you like pineapple on pizza?" Sherman asked.

What?

Timothy stared up at the guy, why the hell was this guy asking him about pizza and pineapples?

"N-no." Timothy answered.

"Be honest!" Sherman pressed the knife closer to his jugular.

"I said no." Timothy said.

"Don't lie to me, I swear I'll fucking kill you!" Sherman shouted. The other guys held him down as he squirmed.

"I don't fucking like pineapples on pizza!" Timothy yelled back, "Now get the fuck off of me!"

Sherman glared at him, his eyes narrowed as he started to press the knife down. Then a wicked smile spread across his face as he stood up, taking the knife off his neck all together. The guys holding him down started helping him up, a few patting him on the back.

Sherman sheathed his knife, "Alright, you made it past first phase. If you said yes, I'd have to cut you. It's a common Ares cabin fact that pepperoni pizza is the best."

Timothy couldn't disagree with that, pepperoni pizza was indeed the best in his eyes. He'd eat any type of pizza, as long as it was pizza.

Sherman patted him on the shoulder and turned him to the other guys, "Timothy, meet the rest of cabin five."

Everyone started introducing themselves at once, Timothy grew dizzy as they did so. Some of them had strong southern accents while others had the typical New Yorker accents. He swore one guy even introduced himself in Greek, though he wasn't sure how he understood what he said since he didn't speak a hint of Greek.

"Alright, alright!" Sherman yelled, "Quiet down now. We gotta put Timothy to the test first." He grabbed him by the shirt and started dragging him out of the cabin, "Now it's time for the second phase: physical fitness!"

Ω

Timothy had no idea what type of physical torture he was in for until he got to the track. The track itself was pretty big, he didn't know the measurements or anything but he knew it was long enough. It was made of dirt, so he had that at least, running on concrete was hard and very taxing.

The track was empty, which meant he was able to take any lane he wanted to. He took a deep breath, he'd ran in gym class before, five laps around the track was nothing, he could do this.

Sherman pulled out a stopwatch and nudged him forward, "Go."

Timothy walked over to the track. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to be able to run in jeans, but he figured her could just try his best. His red and white converses weren't exactly the best shoes to run in.

The weather was pretty good for him, it wasn't scorching hot like it was down in Texas. The sun was out, sure, but the heat wouldn't play a factor. It wasn't cold enough to where he was freezing or anything.

Sherman walked over to him, "Alright, this should be easy for you, any monkey out there can do this. Run twelve laps around the track."

Timothy's heart nearly stopped. Twelve laps? That was way more than the five laps he was expecting. He could do five laps but he was unsure about twelve, maybe he'd hit seven and call it there.

"On your mark." Sherman said, "3, 2, 1, go!"

Timothy took off. The wind blew in his face, which honestly made him feel a bit better. He paced himself, he wasn't about to go all in on the first five laps and then die on lap seven. As he kept running, he noticed a few campers looking over at him and the Ares guys, they had no doubt seen this happen to other people before.

After about six laps, Timothy was on the verge of passing out, he wasn't sure how long he'd been running but it had to have been at least ten minutes. He hadn't slowed down a bit, if he started slowing down it would lead to him eventually stopping and the last thing he wanted was to stop.

His brothers hadn't said much when he passed them, they just looked on. Sherman would nod, which meant he needed to keep going.

Timothy's breaths came out heavy and fast, he could hear himself wheezing. He thought the sun wouldn't play such a huge role but judging from the sweat running down his face, he was wrong. His chest started to hurt as each breath he took slowly drained more energy from him. His legs screamed in pain as he tried to put more energy into his run. His shoes were really doing a number on his feet, it felt like they were about to fall off.

Just as Timothy started to slow down, just as he was about to quit, something strange happened. The pain in his legs became a minor sensation. His breaths came to him easier and smoother, his chest pain all but faded. His vision suddenly became much clearer and his body as a whole felt like it had opened up.

Next thing he knew, he was downright sprinting on the track, the wind roared in his face as he ran. Any pain he felt only made him go faster, which in turn caused more pain, which only made him faster. It was a vicious, yet strangely effective cycle.

Timothy felt like he could handle anything during that run, he'd never felt that way before. A meteor could've come down and hit him and he would've cared less, all he seemed to care about at the moment was winning.

When Timothy crossed the line and he was certain he had down twelve, he heard Sherman say, "One more."

Timothy could've sworn he was on lap twelve, maybe he'd miscounted when he was tired earlier.

He crossed the line again.

"One more."

Timothy at this point knew something was up, he had definitely ran twelve, there was no way he ran any less. He gritted his teeth and kept running. This seemed to repeat a few more times before Sherman finally said he was done.

"You're finished." Sherman said, stopping the time, "20 laps in under an hour, that's pretty good."

"20?!" Timothy exclaimed breathlessly, "You said 12!"

"I lied." Sherman said with a grin, "It wasn't even about the laps anyways, we were looking for something else."

"Like what?" Timothy glared at him.

"Tell me, during that run, did you feel all your pain just magically go away?" Sherman asked, "Did your vision clear up at all?"

That's exactly what had happened. Timothy nodded, "Yeah."

Sherman smiled, "Looks like you are one of us after all." He put his stopwatch away and slapped him on the back, "A surefire sign of a child of Ares is being able to ignore all the pain your body is throwing at you. That can save your life in a fight, if you let yourself focus on your pain instead of fighting, you're bound to end up dead."

"No one else can do that?" Timothy asked.

"Other people can only do it a little bit. It's just far more noticeable in Ares's children. Most campers would've given up the second they realized they had already done twelve laps, you didn't. Ares kids don't give up easily, doing so would mean losing, and if there is one thing, we hate more than anything, it's losing."

The other guys surrounding him started smiling. Timothy couldn't help but feel a bit proud, he'd finally won his cabin's acceptance. Compared to his stepsister, these guys weren't so bad. He wondered what Alexander was talking about earlier.

"Alright, one more test." Sherman said.

Ω

A group of Ares boys stood outside the forests of camp. All of them surrounded Timothy, serious looks on their faces as they stared at him.

In the middle of the group was Sherman and Timothy.

"This is a little test we came up with a few months ago." Sherman said, "It's a pretty well-known fact that these woods are stuffed with nasties that want to eat you. There's a flag in there, a red flag with a yellow 'A' on it. Your test is to go in there, grab that flag, and come back out alive."

"Are you serious?" Timothy asked.

"Absolutely." Sherman replied, "Make it home alive and we'll teach you how to fight for real. Die and well…that's not our problem."

Timothy thought this guy had to be bluffing, there was no way this test was that dangerous, it couldn't be. In Sherman's defense however, this camp wasn't exactly the safest. On the way to the woods, they watched a camper get blasted off a rock-climbing wall that had lava spewing out randomly.

"Where's the flag?" He asked.

"We aren't telling you." Sherman said, "This is a test, we can't have you cheating now. I can give you a hint though. Look for a bunch of boulders, that means your close."

Timothy looked into the woods, they looked peaceful enough, but he had a feeling that there were some really nasty things awaiting him deeper in there. The bayonet tucked in between his waistband seemed to grow heavier, at least he wasn't going in there without something to defend himself with.

He knew he could've said this was all a bunch of crazy bullshit, that he wasn't about to put his life on the line just to be accepted. Yet something inside him wanted to face the woods, something in him wanted to prove that he wasn't scared of anything, monster or human.

So, against all common sense and logical reasoning, Timothy walked into the woods, disappearing into the trees. He walked deeper into the woods, being as careful as possible as to not cause any unwanted attention. He may not have been the smartest guy in the world, but he knew that getting into a fight for the sake of it wasn't worth it at all, not when all he had was just a chipped bayonet for a weapon.

Timothy reached into his waistband and unsheathed the knife, looking around carefully for anyone or anything that could be watching him. He heard birds chirping and various other animals scurrying around near him.

During one of his biology classes, his teacher had done a whole section on nature and the animal world. His teacher was an avid hunter, which meant he was full of useful things to know. One thing he had taught the class was that if a forest suddenly became dead silent, then there was a predator near.

Timothy kept the lesson in the back of his mind. He was a little relaxed now, there wasn't really any reason to be scared, he doubted that he was the only one who went into these woods, surely other campers had to come here for various reasons as well.

Ahead of him, Timothy spotted something that was out of place. As he got closer, he noticed it was an arrow sticking out a tree. The arrow looked old, like it had been there for years. The archer who shot it must've forgotten to grab it.

Then Timothy walked around the tree.

All the trees around him had signs of a battle, sword cuts on the bark, arrows sprouting from the bases of the tree. There were even scuff marks on the ground. He wondered what had exactly happened in these woods.

Timothy shook his head, he wasn't in the woods for sightseeing, he had a flag to find. He pressed forward into the woods, his knife still in his hands.

Something scurried behind him.

Timothy spun around, his knife ready to stab at anything trying to sneak up on him. He looked down to see a squirrel with an acorn in its grasp. It looked up at him, tilted its head, and ran off, leaving him to breath a sigh of relief.

"Just a squirrel." He said to himself.

Timothy turned and kept going, though by now there was something wrong. He couldn't shake the feeling something was watching him, something hungry. He wasn't sure how he knew there was something there, he kept looking over his shoulder and he'd see nothing.

That's when he realized the forest was quiet. The birds were no longer chirping and he didn't hear anything move around. He gripped his knife harder as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. A cold feeling wrapped around his body, like an icy hand wrapping around him. The feeling of dread he was feeling was similar to the fear one would have if they lost a spider in their room.

Just as Timothy was about to start running, he found the rocks that Sherman was talking about.

A huge collection of boulders laid ahead of him and from the looks of it, there was yet another battle that had been fought near them. There were scorch marks, arrows jutting from the rocks and trees, and old slash marks that were beginning to fade.

There was a odd smell coming from the rocks, it smelled metallic, like blood. Timothy felt uneasy, blood wasn't exactly a good sign. He walked around the boulders, looking for the flag. If Sherman lied to him, he was done, he was going to march up to Chiron and tell him that he wanted to go home.

Then it hit him, where was his home? His mom and stepdad's place? They made it abundantly clear they didn't want him around, even if his mom had worked with his dad to send him to this camp, it was still clear that she didn't want him. If he gave up, his cabin mates would never accept him. He had nowhere to go, nowhere to run to.

A red fabric attached to a wooden pole jutted out of the ground near a tree. A faded yellow 'A' was right in the middle. The red flag itself was torn, like it had been through some serious abuse. Timothy's heart nearly swelled to the size of a basketball, he had found it, that flag was his ticket out.

After sheathing his knife, he walked over to the flag and pulled it out, expecting it to be just like any other makeshift flag. Instead, this flag turned out to not be flag at all. The bottom of the wooden pole was a yellow-bronze colored spearhead. This was no flag, this was a spear with a flag attached to it.

Timothy took too long to look at the spear because next thing he knew, something slammed into him like a truck. The spear flew out of his hands and landed a dozen feet away from him. He fell on his side onto the rough dirt below, a searing pain flew up his shoulder as he gasped.

At first, he thought it was one of the guys who had attacked him, maybe there were playing some joke on him and took it too far. When he sat up and looked at his attacker, he found it wasn't even human.

A large black dog stood not far from him, its orange hellish eyes burned as they stared him down. It was huge, far bigger than any dog he'd ever seen before, it looked to be about the size of a small car. It bared its teeth at him, showing off a mouthful of sharp pointed teeth and a set of canines. Slobber dripped down its mouth and onto the ground below. A low growl could be heard coming from it.

Timothy drew his knife and took a stance that felt right to him. The monster must've took that as a challenge since it snarled and charged him. Timothy's body worked like it was on autopilot, his legs moved him out of the way of the charging beast as his hand brought the knife down on the monster's neck.

Instead of piercing the skin like he expected, the knife just harmlessly bounced off the monster. Timothy stared dumbfoundedly at the knife, the point was still pointy enough to pierce skin, how could it have just bounced off like he was trying to stab metal?

The monster turned to him, its eyes angrier than ever. Timothy cursed himself, the knife had only served to piss it off, not harm it. Timothy would've liked to say he let out a loud war cry and charged the monster like a true hero would've but instead, he turned ran, he couldn't kill this thing, so he figured running was the second-best thing.

Just as he was about to retreat to the forest, he spotted the spear on the ground. He glanced between it and the monster, which was now starting to bound towards him.

Eh, fuck it. He thought, he rolled out of the way of the monster and gripped the spear.

He came up kneeling, holding spear's tip forward. He aimed it at the monster's chest, just beneath its head, and charged. The monster opened its mouth wide, ready to bite Timothy's head off. He slammed his eyes shut, he'd rather not see those wickedly sharp teeth if he could help it.

Suddenly, everything stopped. He slowly opened his eyes to see the spear embedded in monster's neck, the shiny point was poking through the other side. The monster let out a defeated huff before turned to dust, like it was made of sand. The spear fell free as dust spilt onto the ground.

Timothy stared at the flag, he got what he came for. He was finally finished with these stupid tests. He didn't care if Sherman said he had more tests, he was sick and tired of them, he was taking a stand now.

Ω

When Timothy appeared from the forest with a spear in one hand and a knife in the other, Sherman and his brothers were waiting for him. They all were talking animatedly amongst each other until one of them saw him and nudged Sherman.

Sherman stood and smiled, "Hey, you made it back!"

Timothy marched up to him and threw the spear to him. Sherman caught the spear and looked down at it and nodded.

"There's your stupid spear." Timothy said, "I'm done with these fucking tests!"

"You're not done until I say you are." Sherman said simply.

Timothy didn't budge, "No, I'm done whether you like it or not!"

Sherman chuckled, "Man, you're asking to get murdered." He walked up to Timothy to the point that they were close enough that Timothy could see the colors that made up his eyes. "You aren't done." Sherman jabbed his chest with his finger with each word.

"Fuck off."

Sherman hauled back and punched him, or at least he would've if it weren't for Timothy hitting him first. Timothy's fist hit his chest, which knocked him back but just like the hellhound, all it did was piss him off.

"You little…" Sherman growled, he got ready to throw another punch but it was interrupted by a female voice shouting at him.

"What the fuck are you dumbasses doing?!"

Timothy looked over and saw a trio of girls standing not far from them. They wore camp shirts just like them, but they all wore brown leather chest armor. The lead one had a black modernized hunting rifle slung over her back, a pair of shiny bronze pistols rested in holsters on each of her thighs.

"Stay out of this, Scarlett." Sherman snarled, "Timothy is one of us, so we gotta initiate him."

Scarlett pulled her rifle off her back and cocked it, "Don't make me shoot you with rubber bullets again."

Timothy's brothers backed off, if he had to guess, they'd once felt the pain of being shot by rubber bullets. He'd never been shot before, and he really didn't want to find out how much it hurt.

The other girls behind Scarlett seemed to smile as she took aim.

"Alright, fuck, fine!" Sherman yelled as he put his hands up, "Just don't shoot."

"That's what I like to hear." Scarlett said before putting her rifle on safe and sliding it back over her shoulder, "Let's go, girls, we don't want to catch Sherman's brand of stupidity, it's infectious."

Sherman turned red as the girls laughed and walked off. Timothy breathed a sigh of relief, he was glad this shit show was over.

Sherman turned to him, "You passed the test. Follow us to the cabin, you gotta shower before dinner." He didn't sound too happy at all.