A/N: Hey, y'all! I finally decided to update (I know, I suck), and, yeah...

Yes, I do own Percy Jackson, but Rick Riordian decided to steal the idea from me... what do you think? No, I do not own PJO, though the plot of this story is mine. Let a comment, tell me what you think, and make my day!

I leaped to the side, narrowly missing the paws of the hellhound. It attempted to skid to a stop, but crashed into the trunk of a sturdy oak tree. I desperately hoped that the impact was enough to give it a concussion or something. Unfortunately, it didn't do much damage, only succeeding in making it more angry.

Snarling, with saliva dripping out of it's jaws, it positioned itself, ready to pounce again. It's sharp fangs glistened in the fast-approaching dark of the evening, and I shuddered inwardly. That did not look pleasant, not that I wanted to experience anything involving them.

Holding my bronze dagger at an angle, I got ready to step-side the pounce. The plan was to leap back at the last moment, then go around and stab it's from behind. Simple, not exactly a brilliant, Athena-worthy plan, but it was all I could think of in the moment of panic.

Fangs bared, it advanced towards me. It took all my willpower (which was not exactly a lot) not to turn around and just get the heck out of there. The thing was as big as a truck, and probably one of the scariest trucks I've ever seen. Forcing my legs to remain still, I counted down in my head.

Three. Two. One... NOW!

I literally launched myself into the air, before diving down in a forward roll. It's claws raked my check slightly, grazing over the small scar on my right cheek from years ago. Spinning around on my heels with breakneck speed, the wind rushing through my ears, I stabbed my knife through it's hind leg.

Yanking it out, collapsing on my knees from weariness and the strength, I watched as the monster-dog evaporatrf- or should I say exploded in a golden burst of sparkes. Very dramatic exit.

Falling over from the exhaustion, I lied there on the slightly damp grass for a few moments, regaining my breath, as my heartbeat began to steady.

Absentmindedly, I reached up, brushing my fingertips again my right cheek, feeling the damage. It was bleeding slightly, but otherwise fine. I touched the scar on my right cheek, and felt my heartbeat quicken. It may have been two years ago, now nearly three, but I remembered every detail of that night.

Pushing the memories to the back of my mind, where they would stay for a while. I sat up quickly, brushing the dirt off my faded, soft but well-worn jeans.

Picking up my dagger, I tilted it slightly, admiring how the moonlight reflected off it's tip.

**Flashback**

A young girl crashed through the woods, stumbling over tree roots and rock. She was quite fast for a girl her age, looking no older than eight. She appeared to be running from someone- or something. Stubbing her toe on a rock, she flew through the air, before slamming into the hard earth, the impact making cry out in pain.

Scrambling to her feet, she leaned back against the rough bark of a hard oak, catching her ragged breath, looking around frantically.

After a minute or so, when no one appeared, a look of relief spread across her face.

It didn't last for long.

"Hello, little girl..." a faint, poisonously sweet voice came from behind her.

Letting out a yelp, the hair standing up on the back of her neck, the young girl spun around, to face a pretty girl, around sixteen. She had striking blonde hair, that seemed eerily unnatural, but breathtaking at the same time, glowing in the moonlight. A kind smile was set on her face, a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her shining blue eyes where shining with a almost frightening look of delight, with just a glint that suggested she wasn't what she seemed.

The young girl seemed to sense that, her small frame poised to run.

"Who are you?" she demanded, not bothering to hide her suspicion.

"Now, now, now," the girl said, as if amused. "Manners, Angelica Allegra Packington."

The young girl tensed, hearing her full name being announced from the complete stranger. Her look of surprise was quickly tranformed into a scowl.

"It's Angela Pax A. Punch," Angela snapped.

"Yes, yes, Angelica," the girl replied. By now, Angela's glare was so intense, her eyes were merely slits. If looks could kill, she'd be dropping dead right now.

"I don't like you," Angela said bluntly. The girls eyes narrowed with hatred, for just a fraction of a second. A second later, she was all smiles.

"Well, well, well-"

"You're weird. Why do you keep smiling like that?" Angela interuppted.

"I-"

"And why does your hair keep glowing? Why are you acting so nice to me? It's annoying. And do I know you? I don't think so. Are you a stalker or something? Are you-"

She never finished her sentence. With a hideous snarl, the once-pretty young girl tranfomed...into a vampire. But she wasn't.

Her golden-blonde hair turned into a mass of flaming curls. And vampire did not have a bronze and donkey leg.

Angela looked down, and burst out laughing, despite her situation. Her laughter froze, when suddenly the "girl" leaped out at her, a bronze knife in one hand.

Tackling Angela from the side, and pinning her to the ground, she positioned her knife at her throat, baring her fangs.

Raising her hand, ready to stab-

A bloodcurdling scream peirced through the air, coming from the throat of the young girl. Suddenly, the "vampire" froze in mid-action. Slowly she exploded in a shower of gold, her knife clanking harmlessly to the side.

There was an awed silence, before the young girl, Angela, slowly sat up, before reaching for the knife.

R&R! No time for long author's note because my mom is now forcing me off the computer...