Voila, next chapter. :P Please tell me what you think!

How to Trash a House

Now I would love to continue the story by saying 'Oh My Gods' when we really arrived at his house it turned out it was a foster home! And that this Jacob dude lived there! And that was why the monsters were attacking his house!

Nah that only happens in movies.

Trey's house was just your average home-currently-being-attacking-by-a-freaking-Cyclops. Funny thing was, despite the many times I'd journeyed back from school with him, my house was closer to the subway station so I never saw his. When he led me there, I had to raise my eyebrow and admit that Trey's family was dysfunctional but still pretty damn rich. In fact, the family might as well be Dare family number two.

When we were just a block away, he finally confessed that he'd been seeing monsters all his life.

"Do they chase you and scream hungry remarks?" I questioned.

"No, they're usually chasing someone else and hollering remarks."

That's when I decided that Trey wasn't a demigod or a demititan, but a misfortunate soul whose bedtime stories popped out into the real world. He looked truly miserable then, like seeing through Mist was some great burden to carry on your shoulders. I would've put an arm my shoulder but I was currently also concerned with making sure we weren't freezing to death.

"But why now?" I asked. "You didn't do anything stupid, did you? Monsters don't usually target people with the ability to see through Mist."

He didn't answer.

"Seriously? Are you that stupid? Trey, trying to rid the monsters and almost getting killed is our job, not yours! What did you do?"

He mumbled something about poking the Cyclops in the eye to see if it was real.

Wow this kid was stupid. I stared at him. "You just walked up to it… and poked it."

He grew defensive on me. "Well I'm sorry! I've been having hallucinations for years. Growing up didn't you want to know if they were real too?"

"No, I ran like hell in the opposite direction."

He acted like he didn't hear me. "For years I've been wondering. And then my parents sent me to a school for nutcases – no offence intended – and then you and your smoke cab popped up…"

I groaned and walked faster in the snow, pulling out my boots from the deep snow with difficulty. "So you decided to poke one in the eye not even thinking about the consequences."

"Yeah."

"And came to get me because you remembered the cab?"

"Yeah."

"You're an idiot."

"I know. House is this way," he said in a matter of fact way.

If that Cyclops and his little gang were ripping down my house, I'd be a lot less calm than him.

Getting closer, I told him to stay there.

"My parents?" he added unhelpfully.

"Don't go all heroey on me." I decided to jump fences from the neighbour's house because a little baby Cyclops was tearing up the lawn. I wondered how everyone could sleep through all the racket.

"There are three of them," he called out.

I assessed the damage, poking my head above the wooden fence with only an upside down flower pot holding my weight. The windows were bashed out on the first floor. At least there was no screaming.

Yet.

Or were we too late?

The lawn was wrecked and the front door was ripped down. The porch sagged as if something extremely heavy had set foot on it. Floorboards were bent, creating splinters.

"I need a lift," I said and dug my right foot on the wooden plank. My hands pushed up from the top of the fence. "Wait – nevermind –" Shrieking rather loudly, I tumbled from the top of the fence, sure I'd broken my neck.

I didn't land with a super ninja roll. Rather I got a mouthful of an unpleasant mixture of dirt, snow, and grass. I hoped Trey's dog didn't happen to like to tinkle next to the fence.

After the stars stopped floating around, I blinked several times and saw the fist of the baby Cyclops.

It was staring at me in a curious way. For a moment, I thought I was dead and my face was about to be rearranged by that very gigantic fist. Then the Cyclops picked me up by my leg and shook me around. The jacket hood fell and I screamed while being shaken senseless. The backpack fell from my shoulders.

Stupid me. Why hadn't I armed myself as soon as I left my house?

"Lena?" Trey shouted. "Are you okay?"

The Cyclops peered at me with its one big eye. I didn't have a hot poker or anything, but my fist was the next best thing I had. I punched at it. It howled and dropped me.

"I'm coming over."

"I got this," I muttered and crawled, half whoozy, to where I thought my backpack was. Being dropped on your back wasn't a good thing. Oh well, at least it wasn't on my head. I didn't need to lose brain cells. My fingers found the fabric of the backpack strap and I blinked up the stars half wheezing and half aware that my collection of bruises had tripled. I found the zipper and tugged it open, flipped it upside down until I saw my dagger and my sword.

Favouring the sword as always, I pushed myself up and swung at the Cyclops.

It didn't like that very much.

Trey dropped right on top of me just then and I got my second mouthful of dirt.

"Soft landing," he noted.

"Damn you're heavy," I wheezed.

He got off and brushed the snow off, backing away as soon as he saw the Cyclops. His eyes were wide. Then he bent down and picked up the dagger, which was extremely brave and heroic and at the same time, bad for me.

The second lights flickered on. All three of us stopped panicking/gawping/trying to eat a demigod to watch a large shadow that could only be a Cyclops pass in front of the window closest to us.

"Mom!" he shouted and ran to the front door, still clutching my dagger. He stumbled on the porch steps but that didn't slow him down.

From the side of my eye, I saw the Cyclops lunge. Without thinking, I swung the sword and caught the Cyclops at its waist. It exploded into yellow sand.

Holding in my stomach and hoping Tyson would never hear of this, I retraced Trey's steps (even tripping over the same plank) and stepped through the torn down door.

No screams yet. So that was good.

If Trey's house didn't look like it was just struck by a tornado (yeah clichéd expression), I might've taken time to admire the upholstery and the fine furniture except once again: 1. It was a disaster area and 2. I didn't care much for furniture.

I read the numbers of the smashed clock hanging on the wall. Had Mom discovered I was gone yet? Was she panicking? I blinked away sleepiness – yes, how could I be sleepy when I have a huge risk in dying? Didn't know myself.

Wincing at the smashed vase (maybe I cared about vases more than furniture) I stepped over the pieces and took a guess to where the stairs were, walking down the long hallway to my left. Then skipping two stairs at a time, I tracked mud onto the vacuumed carpet and made my way to the general area where we saw the Cyclops.

Currently Cyclops number two was gleefully beating up Trey.

At least it hadn't gotten much hits because Trey was lashing out too. Pinned on the floor, he thrashed back and forth so quickly I wondered if he was just trying to escape or if he was really good at fighting.

"Sir!" I called.

The Cyclops looked up at me and bellowed. I got a gust of its disgusting breath. Unfortunately, he didn't stop beating at Trey.

"Seriously?" I swung the blade to meet its neck. It ducked and my sword lodged itself into the walls.

"Mom's gonna kill you for that!"

I put a foot on the wall, leaving another muddy boot print, and tried to pull the sword out. "I wouldn't be worrying about Mom!"

Trey's face was looking pretty bad. His lips were swollen when he said the next thing but I couldn't make out the words.

So I just crouched down and picked up the dagger. The Cyclops turned its attention at me, its one big ugly eye glaring menacingly as if I shouldn't have dared to pull a knife on it.

I stood, frozen with shock, and then stabbed forward when it leaned towards me. The knife didn't pierce its skin because it twisted away at the last moment. It picked me up and bashed my head against the wall. My fingers loosened and I dropped the dagger. For a moment, my mind was completely blank.

"Yargh!" the Cyclops yelled.

"Help!" I screamed like the damsel in distress I was. In reply, the Cyclops swung me like a baseball bat at the other wall.

Then the hands holding me disintegrated. I fell to the ground with a moan, having done that way too many times that night for my taste.

Trey stared at the dagger in his hand. "Are they supposed to vaporize when you kill them?"

"Yeah, don't worry. You're doing just fine. Congratulations on your first monster."

He looked at me like I was insane.

"Let's move on," I said tiredly. "We've got another monster to kill." I tried pulling out the sword again but it stayed in the wall, refusing to move. I tried again but I fell against the other wall and kept staring blankly at the wallpaper of roses, which was peeling off.

"I'll help," Trey offered.

"Give me a second… My skull's a little dented." I reached out and felt the two places I was sure my skull had been bashed in. Then I got up after I felt a little better, and together, we pulled at the hilt. It came out. "Some hero I am," I grumbled.

He patted my back and then peeked around the corner. I could see the back of the last Cyclops retreating. So it had been there all along, not bothering to help its comrade. "That's the way to my parents…" he said.

"That's not good. Listen, I'm kind of sick of fighting another monster so here's the plan." I dropped my voice to a whisper. "Be quick, quiet, and then stab him in the back."

He nodded.

Things never go my way though.

It was my fault really. Or Trey's fault. Let's just say it was Trey's fault. He didn't warn me in time about that squeaky spot on the floor. The Cyclops turned around and roared.

"Crap," Trey said in a really small voice. I couldn't blame him. He was supposed to be an observer, not a participant in this world. But at least he didn't run out on me.

"Die!" it screamed.

"Don't have anything better to say?" I shot back. I couldn't help myself. Geez, it seemed the only words monsters had in their vocabulary was "Die" and "I'm hungry."

The Cyclops picked him up and used him as a club, swinging at me, determined to make me senseless. I ducked and decided that trying to kill a Cyclops when its using Trey as a human shield isn't the best of ideas so I just tried to make it drop him.

"Hang in there!" I yelled.

"Not as easy as it –" Then he went scary quiet after the Cyclops raised its arm and knocked his head against the ceiling.

Good news, the Cyclops lost his grip on him. Bad news, it put Trey through the roof. Bad news number two, Mrs. Sanders was going to have a hefty bill for repairs.

Everything was looking quite shitty for me.

The Cyclops looked up at the boy, shrugged and lumbered to the bedroom. I ran to Trey and pulled on his legs. He dropped on top of me and we landed on the ground.

"Are you okay?"

"Kinda dazed," he mumbled. Bruises and cuts decorated his face. I pulled out a thermos of nectar to drink really quickly and was about to offer it to him when I remembered he was just a mortal.

"Let's go," I said.

Running down the hallway, we banged open the door. I could see only one lump under the blankets. The Cyclops was tugging the blanket off.

Trey looked completely horrified. "You ate my mom!" he gasped.

The Cyclops laughed like the whole thing was funny.

His face was red when he whipped the knife at the Cyclops. It ducked, pretty fast for a huge giant like him. "Can't catch me." He shot out his giant arm.

I ran out of reach and fell onto the mattress. Bouncy. I got up and launched myself from the mattress, landing on it shoulder. It seemed disoriented and tried to flick me off. Then I stabbed down.

Silence.

This time I landed on the mattress. Shaking, I closed my eyes and slid down to the floor.

"My mom…" Trey muttered. "He freaking ate my mom."

"That's monsters for you." I was supposed to comfort him, I know, but right then I was in a state of shock too.

Then I heard toilet flush. The bathroom door opened. A robed woman stepped out and took in the damage of the room. We stared at her.

"Isn't that…"

"Yeah."

Mrs. Sanders rubbed her head like she had a splitting headache. "Oh dear," she whispered. "What did he cook for dinner?"