Chapter 1: A Wintery Wonderland War
I pull back my sleeve to check my watch. I see the hands on the silver watch face are pointed to seven on the dot. Thank God, waiting around was getting way too boring. I smooth down my jacket, check my shirt cuffs, and adjust my tie before I finally feel prepared. Let's do it.
Pushing through the wooden door, I enter the gymnasium that is filled to the brim with high schoolers. I'll never get over how socially adverse high schoolers can be. I hardly get any looks despite my less than normal outfit since they are focused on either their friend group or disappearing into the sea of people. I mean, a bright red suit, polished black boots, a green tie and a Santa hat on top of his white hair would be pretty unusual, even at a winter formal dance. Oh well, can't win them all.
I casually walk across the gym, winding my way through the teenagers until I get over to a little stage set in the corner. Currently, the only thing that is present there was a DJ playing Christmas songs with his laptop disinterestedly. Climbing up the small staircase next to the stage, I turn to the DJ. "Do you have a karaoke mode on that thing?"
He seems like he wants to say something, but his disinterest wins out in the end. "Sure, whatever," he mutters. "Just pick something."
I go around the table he is set up on and scroll through the song catalog before making my pick. I grab the microphone synced to the speakers and walk back around to the front of the stage.
"Hello, Westover Academy!" I call out, my voice magnified through the microphone. "How are you doing tonight?"
I see one kid with black hair cheer from off to the side before an older girl smacked him on the head for causing a commotion. I like that kid. He is definitely has the energy I was aiming for.
"All right, this might just be a school dance, but I thought there would be a bit more energy," I say. "How about a chance to get close to a special someone for a dance? I know the guys know what I am talking about."
That definitely got more of a reaction. The guys in the gym have started to nervously glance at their crushes while simultaneously trying to pretend like they are looking in the opposite direction. I can practically see the cold drops of sweat trickling down their necks.
"Come on, guys," I say. "Girls like guys who can make the first move. These winter months are the perfect time for holiday romance. Everyone wants someone to hold tight to get through these chilly times. Go on and take your shot at a slow dance." I am laying it on pretty thick. It is definitely working since I see some of the girls begin to look towards the guys expectantly to see whose balls will drop first.
At this point, I am pretty much just trolling the dudes. Well, more like one part help and two parts trolling. While this could actually inspire some of them to make a move, I am content with just watching this train wreck of conflicted cowardice. Eventually, some of them do grow a spine and talk to girls. This assuaged the tiny solitary ember of guilt that I had by making me feel immensely better about my decisions. Who needs to feel bad when you are right all of the time? I am awesome.
"Now that we have some love in the air tonight, let's get some music to match." I signal the DJ and he starts up the song that I picked out.
(All I Want For Christmas; covered by Big Time Rush)
I don't want a lot for Christmas,
There is jut one thing I need.
I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree.
I just want you for my own,
More than you could ever know.
Make my wish come true,
All I want for Christmas is you.
I was worried at first that my impromptu musical number would not be too well received, especially since I was taunting half the student body moments ago. However, it seems to have galvanized the rest of the dipshits to actually try partnering up with the girls. Hahaha, mindfuckery is fun to see in action. Well, time to kick it up a notch as the music picks up in speed.
I don't want a lot for Christmas,
There is just one thing I need.
I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree.
I don't need to hang my stocking there upon the fireplace.
Santa Claus won't make me happy
With a toy on Christmas Day.
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know.
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is you.
You, baby.
The crowd is definitely getting more into the dance at this point. I see some of them start to move around in a manner close enough to dancing to make me confident that it is working while simultaneously dismayed that what I am seeing counts as dancing. Teenagers kind of suck like that. I just try to ignore the fact that I am also a teenager. After all, I don't suck.
I won't ask for much this Christmas.
I won't even wish for snow.
And I'm just gonna keep on waiting underneath the mistletoe.
I won't make a list and send it
To the North Pole for Saint Nick.
I won't even stay awake
To hear those magic reindeer click.
Cause I just want you here tonight
Holding on to me so tight.
What more can I do
All I want for Christmas is you.
You, baby, oh.
By this point, the crowd is unrecognizable from the moping swamp of anxiety and hormones that it was before I showed up. People are cheering and dancing around. Happiness fills the air. Guys are standing close than a meter from girls now. I am most proud about the last one than anything. I mean, look at them! Some of them are almost touching. I feel so proud.
All the lights are shining
So brightly everywhere.
And the sound of children's
Laughter fills the air.
And everyone is singing,
I hear those sleigh balls ringing.
Santa won't you bring me the one I really need.
Won't you please bring my baby to me.
It is at this point that I notice four people had entered the gym that were not here before. From the way that they carried themselves and the aura that surrounded them, they were demigods. At least, three of them were. Everything about the scrawny guy with them just screamed satyr.
I definitely need to keep an eye on them though. While one of them just gives the vibe of owls and paper, the other two have a much heavier presence. It felt the same way as if you caught a hint of ozone during a tropical storm. The last thing I need here is to fight children of Poseidon and Zeus. Anyway, I still have a performance to give so they can wait a moment.
Oh, I don't want a lot for Christmas.
This is all I'm asking for.
I just want to see my baby
Standing right outside my door.
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know.
Make my wish come true.
Baby, all I want for Christmas is you.
Okay, screw what I said about them being able to wait. I see them go up to the guy who cheered at the beginning and the girl who hit him, who I guess is his sister, and talk to them for a second before leading them out of the gymnasium.
The gall. The insolence. The audacity!
How dare they take my number one fan before I even finish the song. To think I was going to ignore them as much as I could. That idea is now long and gone. I have no idea what I am going to do instead, but the song is almost over. I can't compromise my artistic integrity by getting distracted and giving a lackluster finale.
You baby, baby all I want for Christmas is you baby.
All I want, all I need, for Christmas Day baby you with me
(All I want for Christmas is you baby)
All I want, all I need, for Christmas Day baby you with me.
(All I want for Christmas is you baby)
I get a cheer from around the gym as I finish the song with a flourish. I use every bit of self control I have to leave the stage as normally as I can. A bunch of the students mob around me, basking me in adoration and praise. I take all of their compliments with an air of humble dignity. What more could they expect? I am a man of the people.
As soon as I wade through the crowd, I quickly walk towards the doors that the demigods left through. I give a final glance over my shoulder at the party. People are happily chatting with each other. Others are dancing. The DJ has actually begun to give effort in performing, much to the cheer of the crowd. The entire room is filled with life as opposed to the stuffy and stifled atmosphere it had been when I arrived. They seem to have regained the holiday spirit that they had lost before. It almost made me sad to leave.
However, I quickly remembered the slight that those demigods committed against me. Who steals one of my fans during the performance of one of my best Christmas songs? Blood feuds had been called over smaller challenges to one's very honor.
I was stepping out of the building when I felt the rolling wave of power that was coming from the woods to left of me. I knew the source very intimately. They would fuck up all of my shit if I allowed them to get any closer. This grated on me because the demigods went to the right, closer to the ocean.
This is fine. It might be annoying, but it is fine. I just solve the problem left and I can go to the right without any worries. To that end, I turn to the left and start slogging through the snow as I make my way to the woods.
--
I stand in the middle of the forest, my eyes casually scanning the trees as I make my final preparations for the shit show that is imminently about to occur. I take off my Santa hat and reach inside of it, pulling out a white balaclava. I pull it over my head and around my neck before lifting the front over my nose to obscure the bottom half of my face. I also pull out a pair of long white batons from the hat before I toss the hat into my pant's pocket.
I twirl the batons a couple times to warm up my wrists and get a feel for their weight again. I twist at the waist a couple of times before kicking my legs a few times. My ears pick up a twig snapping as I was in the middle of hopping on the balls of my feet. I guess I will have to skip the rest of my warm up since the main event has finally showed up.
The only warning I get before the attack comes is the glint of light off of the silver arrowhead and the barely audible whisper as it cuts through the air. They are definitely shooting to kill right now. Not that it will help them too much. I just smack the arrow out of the air with a crack, snapping the shaft and causing the broken fragments to scatter in the snow.
"Is that the best the Hunters of Artemis can manage?" I ask to the forest around me, my voice muffled and distorted by my balaclava. "I am just shaking in my boots. No wonder monsters are afraid of you. You just shoot a couple of shiny splinters at them and they go running. Who wouldn't be scared of the estrogen fest comprised of a bunch of militant feminist lesbians?"
I have encountered these ladies before, so I have been able to feel out what kind of things trigger their instinctual desire for extreme violence on men. One thing is being looked down on. Another is having their archery insulted. The final is making insinuations about bedroom activities happening between hunters. All in all, I have been mashing on every button they have as much an amateur playing Mortal Kombat.
They promptly signaled their appreciation very quickly. Have you ever seen the scene in the movie 300 where the Persians shoot so many arrows at the Spartans that they literally block out the sun? It was surprisingly similar to that. A wall of silver designed to perforate me from every possible angle comes flying out from the trees like a sandstorm billowing through the deserts of Egypt.
It is at times like these that I wonder if it is perhaps a bad thing that I am able to piss people off so quickly and completely with but a few words. Then, I remember that if a few words can make someone lose their shit, they deserve to be talked down to.
I slam the ends of my batons together, the metal fusing together and lengthening until it forms a staff. With an ease that has come from countless hours of practice, I spin the staff in my hands and swat the tidal wave of projectiles away. The length of the staff collides with each arrow and splinters them from the force of my swing. I keep the rotation going as the ends take turns turning the hunters' deadly implements into kindling around me. I idly wonder how long it will take them to realize this won't work as I fluidly alternate my grip on the staff to maintain my whirling defense. I mean, besides having to focus on the individual arrows to make sure none of them get through, this isn't too difficult. If anything, I expected more out of a group that is practically the black ops of the ancient world.
My wish is granted in short order when a hunter appears just inside of my guard, her silver knife out and thrusting towards the gaps between my ribs. I forgot that these nut jobs are also the Greek equivalent of ninjas. I mean, come on. That is a surprise attack straight out of Naruto!
I instantly react, disconnecting the staff into its baton components. I parry the strike aimed at my side with one baton while I strike another shot coming through the air with the other. Thankfully, the hunters decided to tone down the number of arrows that they are firing at me so that they don't accidentally hit their buddy while we are fighting.
The huntress pulls out a second knife and we proceed to fight knife to stick. I dodge and defend against her slashes and stabs while shifting my body around the occasional well-placed arrow. I can observe my opponent as one of her attempts at cutting me skids along the edge of my baton, creating a flash of sparks but leaving me uninjured. She snarls in rage as we fight, her anger at me putting up a fight clear on her face. For every second that the duel continues, she becomes more aggressive and impulsive with her attacks until she overcommits to a strike that leaves her open for a hit on her left wrist. This causes her to lose one of her knives and it seems to throw her off her rhythm even more.
She flips her remaining knife into a reverse grip and tries her damnedest to hurt me as severely as she could in her impaired state. However, losing one of her knives definitely didn't magically give her an attack boost. When she dashed forward in a move to stab me, I tossed one of my batons into the air while side stepping her strike. I use the opportunity to slam an elbow directly into her nose. I probably broke it but I am not quite sure how I know. It might have something to do with the crunch of cartilage, the flow of blood out of her nose, or the now crooked shape of it. Who knows?
With no other thought given to the matter, I catch my baton out of the air and hit her in the temple with it while she is still stunned. Hunter or not, she crumples in unconsciousness all the same from the strike.
This opens the flood gates for all of the other hunters to immediately start swarming me with knives of their own. Well, that escalated quickly.
Once I the dance floor got a little crowded, my memories of the fight began to bleed together as everything dissolved into a hurricane of violence and pain. Hunters' knives glance off of my skin, slicing through the fabric of my suit and leaving bloody lines as they cut into my flesh. My batons deal more than their fair share of damage as they break bone, bruise flesh, and demolish any huntress that dares to stand against me. An arrow gets an inch from my eye before I drop one of my batons, catch the arrow, stab it into the leg of a hunter, and catch the baton without missing a beat in the flow of combat.
I don't know how long the fight continues for as I battle against the ranks of the hunt. Seconds drag on like hours as I clash against hunter after hunter, the snow around us stained with our collective blood. I can hardly see out of one of my eyes from all of the blood that is flowing down over it. My suit is darkened from all the life juice I keep leaking on it. My batons have started to feel heavy as my body is starting to go a little numb.
The hunters aren't doing much better. Many of them have been taken out of commission by my blows crippling one of their arms or legs as well as those that I knocked out having concussions. Their bodies lay sprawled in the snow writhing in pain or lying still. Those that can still stand are either those that stayed out of the fight for the most part or avoided any major injuries. That being said, most still sported nasty bruises or bloodied faces.
As the fight reached a standoff, both sides used the brief reprieve to catch their breath. Some of the hunters dragged their disabled comrades out of the battle, taking them to the sidelines where they could remain out of the way. The rest kept their eyes on me, their bodies tensed to react to any move that I make.
One of the hunters seemed to be a little cocky even after the brutal conflict that we were just in. "Is that really all you've got, pig?" she asks. "Are you done playing with your little sticks and ready to be culled like the disgusting waste of space you are?"
That definitely added more fuel to my fire. I was getting close to calling it quits, but I am not going to take the fighting words of this psychotic forest girl laying down. They need to know to when to not poke a sleeping bear. I just happen to be the one in the perfect place to teach them.
"You bunch of insane violent women really need to learn how to see," I say with a grin behind my balaclava. "All of you couldn't even take me down when you were doing your damndest to put me in the ground. Let's see if you can do better when I kick this up a notch."
I let my batons slip through my fingers and drop into the snow. I unbutton my torn red suit jacket and pull it off, exposing my red suit vest and bloody white dress shirt. I toss the ruined jacket away and unknot my tie as I let my gaze roam over the hunters that surround me. They meet my look of condescension with rage as I take my discolored tie off and discard it as well.
"You all like playing with your little toys a lot," I say as I slowly roll my shirt sleeves up. "With your bows and your knives, you always seem to use weapons to try and fight someone stronger than you. Since we have already seen you can't beat me with all your tricks, how about we check how good you are without anything to help?"
I pull out a pair of white gloves out of my pocket and slip them onto my hands. "Why don't we try to get down to basics? After all, when you get down to it, the first weapon that everyone is born with is their body. If you are so deadly, how about we rely on the only God-given weapon that really matters?"
This really pissed them off. I basically just insulted their goddess by talking shit about the weapons infused with her power. Even worse, they definitely head the capital when I said God. There is nothing that triggers the violent impulses of pagan priestesses than a Christian picking a fight with them. I might not have a problem with pagan gods since I see them as basically just nature spirits with a little too much power and way too much ego. However, I don't think that they will care. They will just do everything they can to brutally murder my Catholic ass. I can tell because they are practically chomping at the bit to start the fight back up. However, they are following the time honored tradition of allowing one's opponent to finish their monologue before fighting. Say what you will, but they have manners every now and then.
"It should be easy for you girls to beat me in a simple contest of fisticuffs," I say as I pull a pair of red-tinted sunglasses out of my pocket, pop them open, and slide them over my eyes. "Or, are you all a bunch of scared little girls without your goddess or lieutenant here to protect you? Are you worried that the big bad man is going to spank your asses like the bad girls you are? You should be. This isn't even my final form!" I am grinning like a loon from the massive adrenaline high I am experiencing.
With that re-upping of the taunting, they were definitely ready to go. One of them surged forward with a kick aimed at my head. I grabbed the leg before it could make contact and used her momentum to throw her into a group of hunters. Another used my throw as an opening to try and land a punch into my kidneys. She was mistaken about my vulnerability since I prevented her attack with a back fist to her face. My hit sent her reeling back with a spray of spit and a tooth flying from her mouth.
The fight keeps going with more of the same. One of them attacks me, I defend, and another one takes their place before I can even finish moving. I keep up with the onslaught for the most part, but some of their attacks sneak through my guard. One of their kicks gets me in the side and cracks one of my ribs. A punch gets me in the side of my head and makes me see stars. Another kick slams into my leg and makes it hard for me to put much weight on it. Every blow I take makes it harder to fight while every one that I land on the hunters doesn't matter since there is always another to keep me off balance.
Before long, it is down to me and only a few remaining hunters. The rest have been knocked out and carried away or they crawled away with the last bits of strength in their bodies. Everyone still standing, me included, is bloody and panting heavily. Our breaths make plumes of frosty air as we try to stay conscious, let alone standing.
I am on my last legs. At this point, a stiff breeze would be the end of me. I am definitely feeling the effects of all of my blood loss. My vision is black specks swimming around to the point where I can barely tell where I am. Every breath is agony from my broken ribs. One of my teeth is definitely loose after a haymaker to the jaw. The blood that stained my clothing is now freezing cold and stuck to my skin. I would be hard pressed to take a single step. Forget even trying to throw a kick. My white gloves are stained with the blood from the broken skin on my knuckles and the hunters that I struck. Even my sunglasses are messed up with the right lens being almost completely busted out.
I am contemplating the idea of submitting to the sweet embrace of sleep when there is a shift in the air. It is as though woods themselves have come alive, a feeling of power and vitality that doesn't occur in an instant without a source. I have felt this presence twice in my life and both times it has led to a change that screwed up my world. Something tells me that this time won't be any different.
My hunch is proven correct when an arrow suddenly finds itself buried deep in my right shoulder. I am so beat up and tired that my cry of pain comes out as a sharp wheeze. The only upside to having been hurt so badly is that this is only a drop in the sea of pain I am suffering from. Well, maybe more like a puddle. Or perhaps a wave. Yeah, that fits. This is like a tsunami of pain in my ocean of agony.
I drop to one knee as my left hand grabs at the shaft of the arrow embedded in my body. With as much strength as I can muster, I rip the arrow out with a gasp. The sound of tearing muscle almost makes me want to throw up when compounded by the further deluge of blistering torment. As I look down at the arrow in my hand, I see that it has a barbed head. No wonder it hurt so much pulling out. Barbed tips are designed to tear up the surrounding tissue when pulled out. Probably should have left in and broken the shaft. I wont be able to use my right arm at all for a while.
"How amusing," a voice smugly says, the sound filtering through the trees and chilling my blood. "He was foolish enough to pull it out. I can't say I'm surprised. Who wouldn't expect someone as stupid as a man to pull it out without a second thought."
"I guess I will just have to increase the training regimen for them all," a younger voice says. "I have to say girls, I can't understand how you all lost to someone with the brain power of a rabid dog." The chill reaches past my blood and all the way to my bones when I hear the second voice speak.
However bad it would be with the first person to speak, everything is infinitely worse with the latter here as well. The lieutenant of the Hunt is one thing, but the goddess herself is an entirely different ball game. It is like comparing mustard to mustard gas. One ruins your meal while the other ruins your entire existence.
My gaze snaps to the two as they walk out of the shadows between the trees, a pack of wolves following in their footsteps. They are dressed in the same white and silver clothing as the rest of the hunters which, despite its flashiness, does nothing to impede their stealth. However, there are a few differences.
One of the two was older at around seventeen. She carried her silver bow with another barbed arrow already notched on the bowstring. Her features easily put her well above the other hunters, even those that were daughters of Aphrodite. Her dark hair was tied in a braid that fell over her shoulder. Her eyes held a sharp beauty that promised to cut down all those who became enraptured by their gaze. A smirk played at her lips as those she was hearing a joke that amused her for the moment. Even more than these, the thing that stood out the most is the silver tiara she wore. This signified her place as the second in command of the Hunt. She was Zoe Nightshade, lieutenant of the Hunters of Artemis.
The other girl was substantially younger at the age of twelve. Her silver eyes shone with an inner light that seemed to resonate with the moonlight suffusing the environment. Even more than that, they seemed to contain a feeling of loathing as they laid on me. Her auburn hair cascaded over a face that was cute in a way that would soon mature into beautiful but seemed almost ethereal and otherworldly. It was almost as though she wasn't truly human even if it was the guise she was hiding behind. With every step that she took closer, I could feel the primal intensity of the forest increase even further. Without a doubt she was the source. She exuded an aura of unrestrained nature that seemed to amplify whatever environment she happened to be in. It was the same feeling that humans had when they first delved into the woods beyond the point where they could see the clearing they entered from. A feeling of being in a place you don't truly belong and where you might not live to escape from. It was the feeling of predators just out of sight and death a single misstep away. She was Artemis, Olympian goddess of the moon and hunters.
Have you ever been in a situation that has been become to irrevocably fucked that there is literally nothing you can do to get out of it without paying a price? That is where I am right now. The lieutenant alone could fight me on even ground without even considering the magical nuke standing next to her. Well, I haven't gotten this far in life by being afraid of things that any sane person would be terrified of. No, I got this far by insulting and challenging every threat that has come my way. Why should now be any different?
"Oh, hey," I say, my voice cheerful despite the pain. "I was wondering when you two would show up. I have to say you really set a low bar for training your hunters. I took them all on like it was nothing. I heard all the hype about you girls and I have to say, I am really bummed. I am not angry, just disappointed."
"It has been a long time since I have heard a man speak so brazenly to my lady," Zoe says, her smirk remaining on her face, but becoming more vicious. "I might have to carve some manners into you before I end your life."
"Don't sully your blade with his corrupt flesh," Artemis says. "We can just fill him with our arrows and then render what is left to ash. No need to let any trace of him remain."
"You act like I should be afraid of your little temper tantrum," I say with a grin as I hold my left hand against the wound in my shoulder to staunch the bleeding. "Why would I be scared of Twiddlebint and Tweedlebitch? It's funny. The both of you only showed up after the fight was over. I guess you were frightened by little old me. No wonder your hunters were so easy to beat. Their leaders are pushovers too."
I can see Artemis' eyes get colder and I can see the promise of a painful death in them. I should probably stop. I mean, I am poking the mother of all bears right now. If I was smart I wouldn't say another word.
But then again, I have been accused of being many things in my life. Smart was not one of them.
"What punishment do you have for me?" I ask. "Are you going to turn me into a deer and have your wolves hunt me down? Or better yet, are you going to turn me into a girl and have me serve in your hunt? I know you like to do some fucked up shit to people who mildly inconvenience you, so I wonder what you have in store for me. I mean, you forced an innocent kid to choose between the gender swap and death. What will you do to someone you actually hate?"
"You give yourself to much credit," Artemis says. "I do not truly hate you. I could only hate a person. You are just a wild animal that must be put down. If anything, I have only pity for you. The only kindness you will find from me is a quick death."
"I am surprised you are giving me that," I reply. "I have heard about how you enjoy torturing the men who earn your ire. So, do your worst. I know that I can handle whatever shit you come up with."
"A fool to the end it appears," Artemis says before a flash of moonlight erupts from her hand, producing a silver bow. Even from the distance between us, I can feel the power rolling off of the weapon. That is definitely her true bow. She pulls back the drawstring and an arrow appears already nocked. As she holds the shot, moonlight seems to build up and condense on the arrowhead before it is glowing so brightly that it illuminates Artemis' features. There is something to be sad about how scary it is to see your murderer with no emotion on their face as they are about to end your life. "May you suffer in the Underworld for your impertinence."
With those final words, she releases the arrow. It cuts through the air like a knife, soaring across the distance between us to destroy me in a blast of divine power.
As I stared at my complete annihilation flying towards me, I see my life flash before my eyes. All my successes. All my failures. All my friends. All the people that I should have held onto tighter. All of my regrets. However, as my mind was racing through my memories, it slows down on the one where one of my friends gave me my watch for Christmas. It is then that I also remember that they didn't intend for it to only tell the time. Wow, I am an idiot. I completely forgot about that.
With a flex of my wrist, the watch's secondary function activates. With a shifting of gears and the hiss of metal sliding against metal, my watch unfurls and expands until it locks into the position of a silver shield. Luckily, the change was quick because the arrow collides with the shield the very moment after the transition finished.
The shield prevented the blast from disintegrating me like Artemis probably wanted. Unfortunately, despite its ability to protect me from instant death, the sheer intensity of the detonation combined with my weakness at the moment led to me being rocketed out of the forest from the concussive force of the attack.
My body ricocheted off of trees as I flew, snapping branches and leaving dents as I hurtled through the woods. With each collision, I could feel my injuries get worse. When one tree hit me, I could feel a couple more ribs give way. My left leg broke from getting slammed with a glancing blow against another tree. The only thought going through my mind is that I hope this forest runs out of trees before I run out of bones to break.
It looks like luck is finally on my side as I clear the outer edge of the forest before slamming into a decently big snowbank. I carve through it, my body plowing a furlough deep into the piled up snow. By the time that I am done moving, I have managed to get so far from the forest that I am actually pretty close to the cliff area where those demigods went. Oh, neat. It is good that I had enough kinetic energy to grind through about one hundred yards of snow with my body. It helped me get where I was going. Shame I can't even move my body. Once I come to a stop, I cough up some blood, staining my balaclava dark red.
I give a weak glance over my body as I lay in the cold snow. I am so fucked up right now. I am covered with cuts, bruises, and a massive bleeding hole in my shoulder. My clothes are ruined completely, all of the fabric having soaked up the blood from the fight. My sunglasses flew off of my face sometime when I was playing pinball with those pine trees. My shield is at least still on my wrist because it was strapped on. With a twitch from me, it retracts back into its watch form as I just let this nice snow warm me up.
Wait, snow is supposed to be cold. Oh, yeah. I must be loopy from all the blood loss and brain trauma. That explains why everything I can see is so grainy. My eyesight has dropped below convenience store security level. Bummer.
Faintly, I hear the sounds of fighting and roaring from close by. Those demigods must be fighting with something. Wish I could see what, but that degree of movement is a little out of my wheelhouse right now. All I am good for right now is trying to stay awake as my eyelids are committing mutiny on my body and trying to close while my lungs are getting tired of pumping oxygen.
I manage to hold on for a couple of minutes as I can feel unconsciousness crawling closer. I can't hear the sounds of fighting anymore. Either it is over or my ability to hear is gone. Who knows at this point.
I wonder if this is how it really ends. Bleeding out in Maine, cold and alone as I take my final breath. It wouldn't be too off brand for me. Hell, I might even deserve it. It's not like I ever did anything to give me the right to a happy ending.
My eyelids have gotten dangerously close to touching for the last time and my shallow breaths have almost run out. I guess this is it after all. The end to my shit show of a story. At least it doesn't hurt at the end. I think I can feel my mouth twist into a smile as I let go of this life for the next.
My sense of peace is promptly ruined by someone yanking my balaclava down, wrenching my mouth open, shoving a cookie into it, and then following it up by pouring milk down my throat. They then hold my mouth closed to try and force me to swallow instead of just spitting it out. After all, I have to if I want to breath. I don't want to let whoever this psycho is choke and or drown me in my final moments on this Earth. If I am going out, I want it to be from an epic fight where I was completely outnumbered, not a food related murder attempt.
With the final ounce of strength that I literally possess, I swallow whatever is in my mouth. The moment I do, I feel a wave of energy surge through me. With the boost, I peek open my eyes to see a concerned pair of electric blue eyes looking into my ice blue ones. Once my vision clears a bit more, I see that it is a teenage girl with short black hair, a leather jacket, a silver charms bracelet on her left wrist, and a spear leaning against her shoulder.
Why, in all of the people in all of the world, did I have to be saved by a daughter of Zeus? Fuck my life.
--
AN:
Hello everybody! I don't know if you found this story through having read my other story on this site, Seraph Restart, or you just stumbled across this one while browsing other PJO fanfics. I really do hope you enjoyed reading my first chapter. I had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while and I wanted to try it out for the Christmas season. This is my first attempt at a longer chapter as well as fight scenes. Let me know how I did. I want to see if I did something good, something bad, or if I messed up anything. Just post a review and I will try to address it moving forward. It really helps me to fix any problems that I have so that I can polish up my writing and give you all a story worth reading. Thanks to anyone reading this and Merry Christmas!
