alone at the edge of a universe

by Zaniey013

This is not my story. I'm only publishing this here for my own convenience. The sea is not unlike the abyss; it is deadly, destructive. It hides secrets in its depths and threatens even those that know it well. The sea easily swallows life with no trace left behind. See the rest of the summary inside! Check out the original story on AO3 by SarcasticMetaphor

5. know what can't be shown

Boy, looking back on this fic, this chapter was really the one where I decided to choose ViolenceTM

Percy had blindly assumed his (technically Clarisse's) quest would be the highlight of the summer. That all changed on the last day of camp.

The Golden Fleece returned the daughter of Zeus to the world of the living.

The first few days she was alive were utter chaos. According to Thalia herself, the last thing she remembered was dying on Half-Blood Hill, hoping that Luke and Annabeth had gotten to safety. She didn't even recognize Annabeth at first, since more than five years had gone by since her death.

Chiron hadn't wanted to tell her what happened to Luke, thinking it would be too much for her to process. Percy disagreed. Annabeth was torn. Thalia wanted to know why Luke wasn't in the camp, and he was of the opinion that she deserved to know.

So Percy knocked on the front door of Cabin 1 alone after curfew, relieved when Thalia let him in.And she was devastated. After everything they went through, only for Luke to abandon Annabeth and the camp, to poisonher,the child of Zeus sent arcs of lightning across her skin and arching through the air.

"You're lying!" She had shouted, tears in her electric blue eyes, "Luke would never do that. He- he wouldn't!"

But even as she spoke, Percy could see the gears in her head turning. She'd been gone for years, and a lot could change in that amount of time. Just look at how much Annabeth had grown.

Percy didn't fear the lightning that singed his clothes and made his hair stand on end. A part of him felt that he had nothing to be afraid of. A part of Percy still suspected he didn't survive Luke's scorpion the previous summer...

He put a hand on her shoulder, the muscles of his arm spasming. He told her what he wished someone could tell him, "Hey, listen. It's alright. You aren't alone."

Thalia narrowed her eyes at him and shrugged him off. "What's your deal? Why are you telling me all of this?"

"I'm Annabeth's friend," he gave her a lopsided smile, "Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon."

And Thalia had gaped at him as he removed his sunglasses. Seeing his eyes stunned her long enough that her lightning died down.

But she had to be one of the strongest, bravest demigods Percy had ever seen. She got over his eyes and his aura faster than almost anyone and, once she calmed down, showed him her shield embossed with Medusa's likeness. For the first time in his life, Percy got a taste of how others possibly felt when they looked at him.

He loved it.

With Thalia somewhat calmer than before, the two of them sat on the floor of her cabin and just talked. No one had told Thalia things like who the president was now or told her about new slang; Percy answered all her questions.

"So neither of us are meant to exist?" Thalia asked, a smile on her lips but a sort of tired sadness in her eyes.

"Yup," Percy replied, the same sort of quiet acceptance on his shoulders.

They ended up talking for hours, almost until dawn, about their quests and how it wasn't fair that they were punished for their parent's actions. He hoped he and Thalia would become fast friends.

For the first time in his life, Percy found someone like him. Someone who was an outsider even among demigods.

So it was disappointing(heartbreaking, bitter, painful)when Thalia decided she wanted to go to boarding school the next week with Annabeth. They'd be close to camp, but still too far for Percy's taste. Though he could understand it, in a way. Thalia had been thrown into a world where one of her best friends was nearly twice as old as she remembered and the other was a traitor. Percy could understand wanting to be where Annabeth was.

He still had his own problems, however. Things Percy wished he had help with. The Sea of Monsters also unleashed something else in him. Something that made Percy wish he had someone to talk to. Someone that wasn't his year-round teacher/mentor.

It was a churning in him similar to Charybdis' open maw. It was a hunger that hadn't left him since his venture into the Sea.

Maybe he could chalk it up to being a growing boy. He did outgrow the shirt size he usually wore, having shot up a few inches over the summer. But steak at dinner started tasting better and better the rarer it got. It felt good to gnaw on wing bones too. Any bones, even. He still shoved vegetables and fruit down his throat to keep Chiron off his back, but Percy didn't have much of an appetite for anything beyond very rare meat.

The Sea made him more powerful, no doubt about it. According to the other campers and the naiads, both aspects of Percy's aura got stronger. Naiads informed him he began to reallyfeellike a son of Poseidon, always carrying the scent of a sea breeze and the unpredictable aura of a powerful ocean.

Percy didn't think that explained the sudden way people began treating him. Campers not only avoided meeting his eye but always spoke to him at a distance, never coming closer than a few yards away. The whole avoiding-Percy-thing was never this bad before. Now everyone avoided Percy when they could and spoke to him briskly, in short bursts of words before fleeing. Even Clarisse stopped picking as many fights with Percy as before. But then again, maybe they buried the hatchet by recovering the Golden Fleece together. He hoped that was the case.

Even Chiron tried to keep space between them, shifting a few paces if Percy tried to stand next to him. Even if his teacher didn't realize he was doing it, it didn't mean it hurt any less.

The naiads only spoke to him when he sought them out, and even they treated him with unease. It was like they only talked to him because he was the son of the sea god.

Percy had a sneaking suspicion about what was happening. A few weeks after the summer officially ended, he stopped wearing his glasses. And everyone treated him exactly the same as before. They were maybe startled to see his bare eyes, but that was it.

At least he wouldn't look stupid wearing his dumb glasses as the weather cooled.

Chiron at least still tutored Percy, made him take his online classes, and encouraged him to eat a more balanced diet. Annabeth also treated him as if he weren't some freak of nature and Thalia was good at stomaching Percy's presence.

Shielding his eyes wasn't working anymore. At all.

And Percy was almost always hungry.

Almost every night, he went to sleep with one question on his mind,What the hell is happening to me?

Of course Percy couldn't just worry about himself. That'd be too easy.

Starting around early October, not quite autumn but not quite summer anymore, the howling of hellhounds kept everyone in camp awake nearly every night. It sounded like they were circling the border, growing louder and softer throughout the night but never going away until dawn.

First it was just a lone hound, calling from somewhere beyond the border of camp. Almost like a lone wolf. The next night, it was two howling in tandem. Then three. Then it was a full pack. Twice, they attacked Pelus, the dragon assigned to guard the Golden Fleece. Another time, they attacked Argus when he attempted to drive them away. Chiron assessed Thalia's tree and found both it and the magic barrier to be in perfect working order, much to the relief of the year-rounders. However, that meant something new was drawing them to Camp Half-Blood.

In the precious few hours of the night when Percy eventually fell asleep, he dreamed of a forest rushing by him and wind hitting his face. He didn't understand why, but it was always dark out. He never tried to look up in his dreams, but he suspected there'd be no moon in the starry sky.

One day, on the way back to his cabin from the arena, Percy overheard some of the other year-rounders chatting by the dining pavilion. It was a Saturday and the campers who attended boarding school in the city would be visiting for the weekend. Annabeth and Thalia were due at camp later in the afternoon.

"They could be part of Luke's army," Clarisse said. "He had a whole cruise full of monsters."

"But what would they be trying to do?" Beckendorf asked.

Percy stopped and asked, "What if they're after the Fleece?"

As soon as he made himself known, the cluster of campers instantly seemed on edge. (Excluding Clarisse, who never looked at ease.)

"Why not send someone with, you know, opposable thumbs to get it then?" one of Clarisse's brothers asked.

Percy listened in for a while longer, but eventually gave up and returned to his cabin. He was unwanted and besides, none of them knew what to make of the hellhounds prowling their border.

At dinner, Chiron announced that all available campers would have to form a task force to deal with the hellhounds. With luck, they'd be able to dispose of the monsters by Monday.

Clarisse and her siblings cheered, but Percy just felt annoyed. He was still starving, having eaten only one rare steak for dinner. Nevertheless, he armored up after eating and agreed to survey the shoreline. They had an odd number of campers, so Percy chose to go solo with Blackjack for backup. Annabeth wanted to go with him, but Thalia wanted her as backup while they patrolled Half-Blood Hill.

"I'll be fine, wise girl. I'll be in my element." Percy said.

Annabeth still looked worried for him, which was more touching than Percy wanted to admit. She said, "Just remember to call for backup if you run into trouble."

"Same goes for you two, good luck."

In their teams of two, the other campers spread out across camp while Percy went to the stables to get his pegasus friend.

"Hey, boss,"Blackjack said.

Blackjack was the poor pegasus captured by Luke's forces. He escaped at the same time Percy and his friends managed to flee from thePrincess Andromeda.Somehow, the pegasus found his way to camp. Blackjack was actually good company when he wasn't asking for apples or sugar cubes.

Percy patted the side of the pegasus' neck. He said, "Hey. I'm going to need your help with something."

At least the horses still liked him. Or at least tolerated him. Blackjack let Percy saddle him up and they headed for the long strip of shoreline that sat at the edge of camp.

"So we're looking for hellhounds?"Blackjack asked.

"Yeah, but I don't think they'll be near the water."

Just as Percy suspected, the beach was empty. Still, he urged Blackjack to land.

"You alright, boss?"

"Yeah, I just want to be thorough."

His stomach growled and Percy pressed a hand to his abdomen. In truth, he was the smallest bit relieved to not have a partner to slow him down. Percy had good backup and complete access to the ocean. If those hellhounds tried to fight him here, they'd be at a pretty severe disadvantage.

As his pegasus began trotting down the beach, Percy asked, "Hey, Blackjack?"

"Yeah?"

Percy hesitated. He couldn't believe he was about to confide in a horse. "I'm not, you know… do I seem weird to you?"

"How so?"

"I mean, I don't fit in among other demigods."

"'Cause you're special. You've got some equine spirit in you."

Percy continued without thinking. "People have trouble even looking at me. Monsters don't."

"You calling me a monster?"

"Aren't you? Technically?"

Blackjack paused."Guess so."

Percy wanted to ask Blackjack if the pegasus ever had any trouble treating Percy normally. Instead, his eyes landed on something in the distance. A black blotch standing against the green of the forest, about a hundred feet away.

Its red eyes stared at Percy before it tossed its head back and let out a long howl.

Blackjack reared back, wings flaring."Uh, boss-"

"I know," Percy drew his sword, "Hopefully, we'll get some reinforcements soon."

Blackjack took to the air as the hellhound charged, followed by more of its brethren as they bled from the shadows.

Fucking Hades,Percy thought,that's a lot of dogs.

A pack of over a dozen hellhounds manifested on the beach. The smallest was the size of a golden retriever, the biggest looked even larger than an SUV. Percy thought they'd be clamoring over themselves to snap at Blackjack's hooves. Instead, they stayed below Percy, trotting and panting with tails wagging.

"Huh," he said.

Percy remembered the black stray dogs he saw as kids. The big ones that let Percy pet them. And the hellhounds from the alley he found Tyson in. Those hadn't attacked him either.

"Hey, Blackjack."

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Take me down."

"You fucking shitting me?"

Ordinarily, his pegasus' foul mouth would make Percy laugh. Now, he was dead serious.

"I'm not joking, get down low and I'll drop to the ground."

Blackjack hesitated."If you're sure, Boss."

"I am."

When Blackjack lowered himself until he hovered about five feet in the air, a good few yards from the hellhound pack, Percy dropped to the ground. He figured if anything went wrong, he had the ocean to call on.

Instead of immediately being mauled to death and testing out theothertheory Percy had about himself, he lowered his sword and whistled. The biggest of the hellhounds approached. Up close, the monster looked a little more friendly. When they weren't baring their teeth, hellhounds kind of looked like ordinary dogs. Albeit huge and with glowing red eyes.

"Hey, there," Percy said. He held out his hand, despite his gut instinct telling him not to. The hellhound sniffed him, then nudged his palm.

"Boss?"Blackjack called from behind him.

Percy laughed humorlessly. "Told you I wasn't normal."

The smallest of the hellhounds ran up to him and circled Percy, sniffing his shoes and poking its wet nose against his skin.

"Didn't know it was possible for hellhounds to be nice," Percy said.

For a single second, Percy forgot about his hunger. He forgot about his eyes and how isolated he felt. He forgot about all his worries in exchange for a single moment of solidarity with these hellhounds.

The peace was shattered when he heard the rumble of oncoming horse hooves.

"Percy!" Chiron appeared at the top of the hill overlooking the beach, bow drawn.

"Wait!" he shouted.

Half of him wanted Chiron to not shoot. The other half of him willed the hellhounds to scatter. And to his surprise, they did. The whole pack fled, melting into the shadows before Chiron could shoot a single one. He thundered down to the beach.

"Percy! What were you doing?"

Percy had seen a lot of his teacher over the past few years of knowing him, but he'd never seen Chiron so close to looking panicked before.

"They- I was about to attack them," Percy said, "but they scattered."

Chiron didn't look any less troubled than before.

"Percy!" A new voice called out. It was Annabeth, followed by Thalia. Annabeth's sharp gray eyes searched the beach for hellhounds. When she found none, her brows furrowed.

"What happened?"

Percy shook his head. "It'd be too weird to explain."

Chiron was scanning the beach now, squinting in the dying light of the late afternoon. He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse.

"The three of you, head back to your cabins. I'm calling an early curfew tonight."

"What? But it's not like they can get inside the camp," Percy said.

"Just go," Chiron said, "There's something in these beasts' behavior that troubles me."

Percy shared a look with Annabeth while Thalia watched them in silence. The three of them quietly agreed not to push Chiron on this. They all headed back to the cabins together, with Blackjack walking alongside Percy. Annabeth and Thalia were actually willing to walk within ten feet of him, and Percy didn't know how to feel about that. It was nice to be treated so normally, but sad that getting this kind of companionship was now a rarity for him.

"So, Percy," Annabeth said, "...did you get a good look at the hellhounds? How many were there?"

They were even willing to initiate conversation with him. "Around a dozen. Maybe more."

Thalia whistled. "That's a lot of dogs."

"Yeah, I don't think we'll be sleeping well tonight," Percy replied. He broke off with the others and headed for the stables to get the saddle off of Blackjack before sealing himself inside his cabin. As a kid who regularly hid snack stashes in even the strictest boarding schools, Percy chose to keep some soda and bags of junk food under his bunk. He was suddenlystarvingas he tore into a family sized bag of chips, not stopping until it was almost empty.

Percy chugged a can of lukewarm cherry coke, but it just wasn't enough. He fucking ate dinner, didn't he?

But here he was, still hungry. He finished the bag of chips and flopped back onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling. Percy's eyes traced the patterns of fossils and coral above him, one hand on his abdomen.

"What is wrong with me?" he asked no one.

Percy rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, resting his head against the cool tile of the floor. He must have fallen asleep because the next time he opened them, his cabin was considerably darker than it was before. He forced himself up, noticing how he was still hungry. And how his back hurt from sleeping on the floor.

He went to the door and pulled the curtains aside from the window next to it. It looked like the sun had just set, the torches lining the paths still lit. Percy bit his lip as he heard the first of the hellhounds. It was past curfew, but Percy knew he wouldn't sleep. Either the hounds or his grumbling stomach would keep him up.

Percy closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the glass. The only hellhounds that had ever been hostile to Percy were the ones under Luke's control. But these ones didn't sound like they were after prey. They sounded like they were calling to gather. And a part of Percy wanted to go with them.Anythingwas better than being cooped up in his cabin all night.

Fuck it.He thought. Why not investigate their pest problem himself? He already had better luck dealing with the hellhounds than anyone else. So Percy pulled on his sandals, grabbed a spare breastplate hanging from the wall, and unsheathed Riptide before strapping his sword to his side. Percy snuck out of his cabin, noticing that the lights were off in all the others. Good.

He sprinted toward the source of the howling, keeping his eyes peeled for harpies patrolling the skies. Percy met the hellhounds at the beach, right where the magical border bled into the real world. As soon as he appeared over the crest of the hill above them, the hellhounds stopped howling.

Percy hesitated. A part of him wondered if the hellhounds would have a change of heart at night. Maybe this was all an elaborate trap to eat him specifically. Percy looked back, eyes darting across the whole of the darkened camp.

No Annabeth, no Grover, no Tyson, no Thalia. He pursed his lips.

Alone, like he'd always been.What the fuck did he have to lose?

Percy jumped and slid down the sandy hill. He hit the bottom with a grunt, now on the other side of the border. He gripped his sword and waited.

The hellhounds didn't attack him. They panted, tails wagging, as if waiting. Percy heard the sound of shifting sand and tensed. He turned, fixing his gaze on the biggest of the hellhounds as it approached.

"What do you want with me?" Percy asked it. Some monsters had human-level intelligence. Though hellhounds always just seemed like big dogs, maybe they could be reasoned with?

The massive hellhound stopped just short of striking range, sniffed the air, then lowered itself until its belly was on the sand. Percy raised a brow and lowered his sword.

He looked around. The rest of the pack was waiting.

Waiting forhim?

Percy turned his attention back to the big hellhound and chose to slip Riptide back into his pocket. Without his celestial bronze sword, he felt more vulnerable than ever. And he felt even stranger as he approached the massive hound and ran his hand over its side. Its fur was surprisingly soft.

Something in Percy shifted. It wasn't the violent, painful awakening that happened when he fought Ares. This one made his heart speed up with curiosity, hope, and even excitement.

Go.A part of him whispered. It wasn't the part of him that constantly warned him he needed to hide himself. It was something new.

Percy buried his hands in the fluff on the big hellhound's side. The monster leaned toward him. Not to crush or snap at Percy, but as if still inviting him.

"No way," Percy said. But he climbed on the hellhound's back with no trouble.

Immediately, the beast stood and tossed its head back. The whole pack let out a round of howls before the big one took off. Percy yelped and buried his fists in its long fur, holding on tight as the hellhound bounded across the beach.

The first few seconds were terrifying. Percy instantly regretted his choice and considered rolling off the monster's back and making a mad dash for the water.

Then Percy felt the salty night air hitting his face, cool and refreshing. He began to get a feel for the rhythm of the hellhound's movement beneath him, evolving from an array of heart-stopping jumpy lurches into a series of long powerful strides.

With a start, Percy realized his heart was hammering in his chest as the whole of him wanted to gofaster.

Percy tossed his head back and laughed, the sound lost to the wind.

They broke through the edge of the forest, now completely doused in shadows. Percy had always assumed the magical border wrapped around the entire forest, but apparently there was plenty of land that was unprotected. The hellhounds sprinted through the brush, leaping over fallen logs and across vein-like streams. Percy lowered himself, keeping flush with the hellhound's back to avoid being hit in the face by branches.

His hellhound suddenly changed course, nearly throwing Percy off its back. The rest followed, apparently having found a scent to follow. They sprinted through the woods with a renewed fervor, picking up pace as they seemed to blend with the shadows around them.

Percy was expecting a deer at the end of the hunt, not a drakon. He only got a good look at it for a second, but he saw a serpent-like lizard thing with golden eyes rear its head from the underbrush. It hissed at them, but it didn't scare Percy and it didn't scare the hounds either.

The big one leapt through the air. Without thinking, Percy let go and used the hellhound's back as a springboard to launch himself even higher into the air. As the pack surrounded the drakon, Percy drew Riptide. He fell, almost in slow motion, slashing his sword down the side of the drakon's neck. Hot blood exploded from the wound, drenching Percy.

It shrieked, twisting and snapping at Percy with its maw of jagged teeth. Before it could snap him in half, the biggest of the hellhounds leaped forward and took the drakon's throat in their jaws. The beasts thrashed on the forest floor, fighting for control. Drakons were strong on their own, sure, but the beauty of hellhounds was that they could work together.

Percy stumbled back, watching with wide eyes as the pack all attacked the drakon at once. The smaller ones tore at its vulnerable underside while the larger ones pinned it to the ground.

Seeing an opening, Percy lunged. He took Riptide and plunged it in the gash he made before. For several amazing, heart stopping, stomach clenching seconds, the drakon tried to lash out one last time. Percy almost thought it'd throw him off it. Then the beast went still.

The window between dying and death lasted for only a few seconds, and for a moment, all the hellhounds turned their attention to Percy. Something in him compelled him to nod, so he did. For the last moments of the drakon's life, the hellhounds had their fill. They tore flesh from the drakon's underbelly while it was still alive, gnawing on organs and bones as the thing wailed.

Then it exploded in a burst of golden dust. Percy gasped in surprise as he collapsed to the ground, his sword suddenly lodged in nothing. He pressed a palm to his chest, heart still hammering with adrenaline.

He suddenly realized the gravity of the situation he was in. He was outside the camp, alone, splattered with drakon blood, and surrounded by hellhounds. Percy licked his lips, tasting the tang of copper, before he fell back on the forest floor andlaughed.

Skateboarding, sword fighting, and steering a ship through an obstacle course of jagged rocks all had nothing on hunting with hellhounds. One of the smaller monsters approached him and began licking the dust from his cheek. Really, what was a hellhound if nothing but a big dog?

Even though his stomach was still hollow, Percy stared at the clouded, starless sky and felt better than he had been in a long time.

Percy woke up the next morning with an empty stomach. As per the course these days. He rolled out of bed, got dressed, and headed to the dining pavilion.

"-hear them?"

"-all night!"

"-wonder if they're gone now."

The voices washed over Percy as he ate a breakfast twice as large as he was used to having.

"Percy."

He looked up. Chiron was standing at the end of his table, his eyes glancing over Percy's form.

"You look well today. Were you able to rest last night?"

Percy nodded as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Slept great, actually."

Chiron nodded. "I'm glad. It's odd that the hellhounds ceased their crying so early in the night. But I'd like to know if you'd be willing to help with a patrol of the camp before curfew."

Percy smiled and nodded. "Sure."

After breakfast, Percy went about his day as normal. Classes with Chiron, followed by sword training in the arena with Annabeth and Thalia, before some afternoon rock climbing.

No one had to know about the pile of bloodied clothes under his bunk. If Percy smelled more strongly of the sea than usual, no one pointed it out. And if his aura of decay, of raw unflinching entropy, felt stronger than usual, not a soul could muster the strength to comment on it.

Almost all at once, most of the year-rounders in boarding schools began spending the weekends at their respective institutes. Too much homework, they said. Annabeth and Thalia became scarce, leaving Percy entirely alone at camp on most weekdays. But the plus side to being the only kid around was that Percy got access to some pretty cool lessons.

Chiron decided he was ready to learn how to manipulate the Mist. When Annabeth and Thaliacouldcome visit, they also picked up on it fairly fast. Thalia had a natural knack for it, but with his new skill, Percy attempted to mask his eyes.

He got limited results. If he really concentrated, Percy could make his eyes look like how they did before, with whites circling green irises. He couldn't really get his weird aura to go away, but at least he looked normal enough. The occasional hellhound call continued. The weather slowly started getting colder until it was most definitely winter again. Snow dusted the ground and Percy began needing a jacket to keep warm.

Oddly enough, there was hardly a satyr in camp left, with all those available sent across the country to scout for half-bloods. Luke's army was growing, so Camp Half-Blood had to grow as well.

But something else was brewing in the camp.

Percy wouldn't say that he hadtrainedhis hellhounds. They didn't know how to sit or speak on command. But they heeded his calls and deferred to him as leader. Even the biggest of them looked to Percy with the utmost trust.

And he trusted them. They became his steeds and his allies. His friends,Hispack.

He taught them to quiet themselves at night and to stay away during the day. In turn, they learned that when Percy's hunger reached its tipping point, when it became unbearable, he would go to the border of the camp and call for them. Percy would let out a perfect cab-calling whistle. One long, high-pitched note that would be lost to the wind by the time it reached anyone in camp.

But his pack would always hear him without fail.Best of all, no one had to know. Percy could take care of himself without bothering anyone else. He just needed two or three nights out of the week to sate his stupid hunger. It wasn't like he was hurting anyone, but he just knew no one would understand. To most campers, he was the weird one. At best, they thought of him as the powerful son of Poseidon, the demigod that was never meant to exist. At worst, they treated him like he was a monster. Annabeth was still close to him, but she always seemed to be studying him. Or waiting, as if unsure of what would happen if she caught him off-guard.

To her, Percy had weird and vaguely prophetic-dreams fairly often. That was not normal even for a demigod. Nothing about him was normal for their kind and Annabeth of all people knew that fact best. She was so smart, way smarter than him. Annabeth would surely figure out if Percy had even more weird shit going on with him.

So on a Friday night before Annabeth and Thalia would be coming over for the weekend, he snuck out of his cabin clad in a jacket and his chestplate. He had to keep his hunger at bay while she was visiting. Creeping through the shadows, light and surefooted, Percy reached the beach.

They were already waiting for him.

Percy approached Onyx, the largest of the hellhounds, and patted his snout.

"Hey boy, you ready?"

Onyx gave an affirmative bark. It was echoed by the others. All of them had names by then, which made Percy feel like these were his friends rather than pets.

Just like all the times they had done it before, Percy climbed on Onyx's back. And together, they went into the night.

Percy knelt in front of the writhing griffin, the monster still alive as the hellhounds pinned it to the ground. His stomach growled, deafening compared to the griffin's pitiful wails. He set his sword aside, moving in a haze, no longer afraid of what he had to do.

Percy braced one hand against the monster's side and tore into the gash a hellhound had made in the initial attack. The griffin squaked and whined, writhing in agony as Percy tore a small bit of its living flesh from its bones with his hands and ate.

Its pain didn't matter to Percy. Their pain had long stopped haunting his dreams. Instead, his eyes glazed over as he consumed the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. Miles better than ambrosia or nectar.

Though he knew the taste of life and fresh blood well by then, Percy could have cried from how it soothed him. The gaping, churning emptiness inside of him quelled in exchange for a delighted shiver crawling down his back. Percy licked the blood from his lips, the dark night deathly quiet for a moment. Everything, the hellhounds, the griffin, the air, the darkness, seemed to be waiting for him.

And Percy answered the silence with the sound of ripping flesh, using his hands and teeth to gorge himself further on the living tissue. The hellhounds not holding the griffin began howling, delighting in their leader fulfilling their hunt and deeming their offering worthy.

They were a symphony together, a blood-drunken party that made Percy feel whole in ways human company never could. There was no judgement here. No pity or revulsion as they looked in his eyes.

Percy tore thick strips of meat from the griffin's bones, peeling away the fur and feathers to get to the tender, warm flesh beneath. He ate like a starved man, hurried and desperate, as he reached inside the griffin's body until he found something round and firm. The creature wailed into the night, thrashing renewed, as Percy took hold of whatever it was andpulled.But not even the griffin's shrieks could fully bury the sound of ripping tendons and snapping bones.

Percy bit into it as if it were a ripe apple. He held his other hand below the organ to cup the draining blood. He drank as he ate.

Never before in his life would Percy consider himself sadistic or cruel, but the taste of life was utterly intoxicating. All things decayed eventually; but when it came to living beings, this griffin was temporarily taking in the world and turning it into fuel, heat, fury, and breath. It was beyond comprehension, taking the flesh of a thing that tried so desperately to make order out of the raw disorder of the universe. Of taking the fat and muscle and energy put into powering this living being and making it his own.

It was a drunkenness that could have made Dionysus jealous.

Percy swallowed another mouthful of red, warm life and found himself grinning. The griffin had gone quiet as he drank. Not dead, because then it would be nothing but dust and disappointment. Instead, it was somehow still clinging to life. It's eyes were glossy and unfocused, as if broken by its torment and waiting for it to end. It wouldn't last more than a minute.

Percy wiped his bloodied hands on his pants and picked up his sword. He took a step away from the beast. Immediately, the hellhounds pounced. They tore the griffin to shreds, eating it alive in a flurry of fur and feathers. Percy watched them eat as he bit into his still-warm organ (a second heart, maybe? Some monsters had more than one to power their bodies). He chewed it as if it were the most mundane act in the world. When his pack was done, nothing remained of the creature but a pile of feathers and golden dust.

Before they left, Percy knelt once more and touched the remnants of the griffin. He issued a silent prayer for the creature, now stirring in the depths of Tartarus before it could be reborn.

Thank you.

Because of it, Percy could stay well fed and sane for a few more nights.

As Percy mounted Onyx, the largest of the hounds, some of the smaller hounds looked to him. Ruby especially was giving him such sad puppy-eyes, since she was the smallest of the pack and the last to eat. Percy turned his head toward the deeper areas of the forest.

He wouldn't rest until his whole pack was as sated as he was.

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed Percy's abomination puberty!