OK, sorry 'bout that long time no update... this just isn't my main story, that's all. I have to finish my HoH before it actually comes out, and I have a LOT of people waiting on my PJO/KC crossover.

...

OK, this is awkward. (I'm a socially awkward person.)

... I am not Rick, and I certainly am not James either. I'm not half as cruel as him.

PLEASE R&R!

CHAPTER 1

PERCY POV

For a minute I thought my eyes were still closed. Of course, that wasn't the case at all.

The room I was in was dark, void of the tiny smoke detector light above, emitting little light. Not enough to see yet, though. My eyes had to adjust.

Suddenly, I realized I was laying in an odd position, like I was in a cage. Weird...

I was in a cage.

What?

It seemed all quiet, but I heard an odd rattling hooooosh! sound, but the blanket of darkness muffled it.

Were am I? I wondered as I traced the frame of the cage. A dog cage, I realized.

Who puts a six-foot teenager into a dog cage?

The last thing I could remember... my mind was fuzzy. Sedatives... I thought.

I tried to recall what had happened. Annabeth... Smithsonian... date... shop... donuts... supermodels...

My groaning head was proof of sedatives.

Now who puts a sedated six-foot teen into a Kanine Kamper? Even Dionysus wouldn't do that. Or would he? I thought, as I remembered back to his suggestion of spontaneous combustion when I first arrived at camp.

Panic flooded into my mind. Did the government know about the gods? Did they find out I was a demigod? Were the gonna use me as a lab rat?

In a split second my fears were confirmed.

The door creaked open and a large figure entered the room. One of those... kidnappers. Another shorter 'supermodel' followed behind.

Lights flickered on and I got a clear look at the room. The room itself was white. White and silver. Colorless.

The ceiling was high. The floor had plain white tiles, the shelves were silver. It reminded me of the doctor's office.

There were discarded white surgery tables here and there, and a normal white table and chair in the corner. In seemingly random places there were Kanine Kampers. Mine was a Large, I realized.

It was small for a 'Large'. But then, it was for dogs.

My eyes narrowed in on the worst part of the room yet: the dead girl in the corner.

I recoiled immediately, then I looked back at her and realized she was still alive. She was almost dead, though; her breaths shook her whole body.

Looking even closer, she wasn't even a demigod, or completely human. Reptilian scales covered her arms and her forehead. her eyes were vertical slits. With horror, I looked away.

The smaller captor spoke to the taller one. "They are asking for him?"

'Shorty' was about 5'9". He was handsome in an almost cruel way. He had sharp features, defined cheekbones. Skater-cut brown hair. His brown eyes were sadistic and torturous though, and oddly enough, his canines were sharper than a normal persons.

The other one snorted, "Yeah." Under his rancid breath, he muttered insanely.

He was tall with perfectly, messy, curly hair, flipped like some sort of freaky male model. He was about an inch taller than me, 6'3". He had similar, cruel features like his friend Shorty. His eyes were dark amber, wolfish in intent.

And both were really stupid.

Smelly smiled eerily. He looked at Shorty.

"Get him."