Percy chapter 2

I thought I saw anxiety in her eyes, the same fear I'd seen in Grover during the bus ride as if my mom also felt a strange chill in the air. However, her smile returned, and I assumed I must have been mistaken. She ruffled my hair and went to make Gabe his three-layer dip.

"Thank you, Percy," my mom said. "Once we get to Montauk, we'll talk more about…whatever you've forgotten to tell me, okay?" We were prepared to depart an hour later.

Gabe paused his poker game long enough to observe me carrying my mother's luggage to the vehicle. He kept griping and complaining about losing her cooking—and more important, his '78 Camaro—for the whole weekend.

As I loaded the final bag, he cautioned me, "This car is in perfect condition, brain boy." "Not even a tiny scrape." As if I were the one behind the wheel. I was twelve. But Gabe didn't care about that.

He would find a way to blame me if a seagull even soiled his paint work.

I became so enraged as I watched him stumbling back toward the apartment complex that I did something I cannot explain. I made the hand motion I had seen Grover make on the bus as Gabe got to the doorway. It was a warding-off-evil gesture, where I clawed my hand over my heart before pushing Gabe in my direction. He was sent flying up the stairs as though he had been blasted from a cannon when the screen door slammed shut with such force that it struck him in the butt. I didn't remain long enough to find out, although it might have been the wind or some strange hinge accident.

I instructed my mother to step on it after getting into the Camaro. While we were in the car I should explain the place it had sand on the bed way out of tip of Long Island. The cabin was a little pastel box it was a bit rundown, it had sand in the bed sheets and spiders in the cabin and the sea was always to cold to swim but I never had a problem with it. The cabin was perfect I loved it. Since I was a baby, we had been visiting the place. My mother had continued to live longer. I realized why the beach held special meaning for her, even if she never explicitly stated it.

It was where she had first met my father.

She appeared younger as we approached Montauk, with years of stress and labor fading from her face. Her eyes took on the hue of the ocean. After arriving at sunset, we cleaned the cabin as usual and opened all the windows. We snacked on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples my mom had brought from work while taking a stroll on the beach and feeding blue corn chips to the seagulls.

I guess I should explain the blue Food

You see, my mom had been assured by Gabe that there was no such thing. At the time, their altercation appeared like a very minor one. However, my mother has made it a point to eat blue ever since. Her birthday cakes were blue. She blended smoothies with blueberries. She brought blue sweets home from the store and also blue-corn tortilla chips. This demonstrated that she wasn't completely duped by Gabe, as did the fact that she continued to go by her maiden name, Jackson, instead of Mrs. Ugliano. Like me, she did have a rebellious streak. We built a fire as it grew dark. We roasted marshmallows and hot dogs. Before her parents perished in the plane tragedy, Mom used to tell me stories about her early years. When she had enough money to stop working at the candy store, she informed me about the books she hoped to write. Finally, I worked up the courage to inquire about my father, who was always in my thoughts whenever we traveled to Montauk. Mom's eyes became hazy. Although I anticipated hearing the same things she always did, I never grew weary of them.

She remarked, "He was nice, Percy." tall, good-looking, and strong. However, gentle as well. You are aware that you have his green eyes and black hair.

Mom reached into her candy bag and pulled out a blue jelly bean. "Percy, I wish he could see you. He would be quite proud. I questioned how she was able to say that. What made me so wonderful? A hyperactive, dyslexic child who received a D on his report card was expelled from school for the sixth time in six years.

I inquired, "What was my age?" "When he left, that is."

She observed the fire. "Percy, he was with me for just one summer.

This beach is right here. This cabin.

"However, he knew me from birth."

"No, honey. He never saw you, but he was aware that I was having a child. He had to depart prior to your birth.

I made an effort to reconcile that with the fact that I appeared to recall—something—about my dad. a cozy glow. A grin.

As a baby, I had always thought he knew me. Even though my mother had never stated it directly, I had a gut feeling that it must be real. To be informed that he had never ever laid eyes on me.

I was upset with my dad. Perhaps it was foolish, but I was angry with dad for not having the courage to wed my mother and for embarking on that sea adventure. We were left with Smelly Gabe when he went.

"Will you send me away once more?" I questioned her. "To another residential school?"

She took a marshmallow out of the flames.

"Honey, I have no idea." She spoke in a strong voice. "I believe that we will need to take some action."

"Because I'm not welcome here?" As soon as I said the words, I felt regret.

Tears filled my mother's eyes. She grabbed my hand and gave it a firm squeeze.

"Oh, no, Percy. I—I must, my dear. For your own benefit. I must send you on your way.

Her remarks brought to recall Mr. Brunner's statement that it would be best for me to leave Yancy.

I said, "Because I'm not normal."

"Percy, you say that like it's a terrible thing. However, you are unaware of your importance. I believed that Yancy Academy would be sufficiently distant. I assumed you would be safe at last.

"Safe from what"

I had been stalked on the playground in third grade by a man wearing a black trench coat. He left grumbling when the teachers threatened to call the police, but when I explained that the man only had one eye, in the center of his head, beneath his wide-brimmed hat, no one took me seriously.

A very early memory before that. A teacher put me to sleep in a crib that a snake had slithered into when I was in preschool.

When my mother arrived to take me up, she shrieked to see me playing with a limp, scaly rope that I had somehow strangled to death with my meaty baby hands.

My mother remarked, "I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could." They informed me that was an error. Percy, the location your father intended for you to go, is your only choice. And I simply cannot bear to do it.

"Did my dad want me to attend a special school?"

"Not a school," she muttered. "A camp for the summer."

My mind was racing. Why would my dad, who hadn't even lived long enough to see my birth, bring up summer camp with my mother?

And why hadn't she brought it up earlier if it was so important?

She saw the expression in my eyes and murmured, "I'm sorry, Percy." However, I am unable to discuss it. I—I was unable to send you there. It might entail bidding you farewell forever.

"For good? However, if it's just a summer camp...

She turned to face the fire, and I could see by her expression that she would start crying if I continued to interrogate her.

I had an intense dream that night. Two lovely creatures—a golden eagle and a white horse—were attempting to murder one another at the surf's edge as it was storming on the beach. With its enormous talons, the eagle swooped down and cut the horse's muzzle. The eagle's wings were kicked by the horse as it sprang up. The ground rumbled as they battled, and somewhere beneath the surface, a hideous voice laughed, encouraging the creatures to fight even more.

Knowing that I had to prevent them from killing one another, I sprinted in slow time in their direction. I was aware that it would be too late. I screamed when I watched the eagle plunge down with its beak pointed at the horse's big eyes. As I screamed no I woke up.

When me and I my looked outside the window we could see that there was a hurricane, which was unusual for Long Island.

Then a sound, like mallets in the sand, much closer. Someone was shouting and beating on the door of our cabin with a desperate voice.

In her nightgown, my mother leaped from her bed and flung open the latch.

Grover was framed by the pouring rain as he stood in the doorway.

He wasn't exactly Grover, though.

"All night searching," he exclaimed. "What were you contemplating?"

Not afraid of Grover, but rather of the reason he had arrived, my mother gazed at me in horror.

She called out, "Percy," loud enough to be heard over the rain. "What took place at school? What did you fail to tell me?

I stared at Grover, frozen. I was unable to comprehend what I was witnessing.

"O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" he raised his voice. It is directly behind me! Did you not inform her?

He had just cursed in Ancient Greek, and I had understood him well, but I was too horrified to notice. How Grover got here alone in the middle of the night was beyond my comprehension because I was so astonished. Grover's legs should have been where they were because he was not wearing his pants.

My mother gave me a severe look and spoke in a voice she had never used before: "Percy. Now tell me!

My mother looked at me, her face deathly pale from the lightning strikes, while I muttered something about Mrs. Dodds and the elderly women at the fruit stand.

"Go to the car," she urged, grabbing her purse and throwing my rain jacket to me. You two. Go!

Grover was not really sprinting when he ran for the Camaro. His tale about a muscle condition in his legs suddenly made sense to me as he was walking at a clip and shaking his shaggy hindquarters. I could see how he was able to run so quickly without losing his gait.

Because there were no feet where he should have had them. The feet were cloven.

His hairy hindquarters trembled as he trotted, and then his tale of a muscular problem in his legs. I could see how he was able to run so quickly without losing his gait.

Because there were no feet where he should have had them. The feet were Hooves .

XX=Sceen change=XX

We had started driving Far away and in heavy rain to God knows where I don't think my knows where we were going. I looked over at Grover and at his legs seeing them made of fur and their smell was also like that of zoo animals and all I could think of saying was "So, you and my mother are acquainted?"

Despite the absence of any cars behind us, Grover's gaze darted to the rearview mirror. "Not precisely," he remarked. We've never actually met, after all. However, she was aware that I was observing you.

"Observing me?"

I'm watching you. ensuring your well-being. However, I wasn't pretending to be your friend," he hurriedly added. "Your friend is me."

"Well, what exactly are you?"

"That isn't relevant at the moment."

Does it not matter? My dearest friend is a donkey from the waist down—

Grover gave a harsh, raspy "Blaa-ha-ha!"

Even though I had heard him make that sound previously, I had always thought it was an anxious chuckle. I now understood it to be more of a bleat of irritation.

"Goat!" he exclaimed.

"What?"

"From the waist down, I'm a goat."

"You stated that it was irrelevant."

"Blaa-ha-ha! For such an insult, some satyrs would trample you underfoot!

"Whoa. Hold on. Satyrs. What do you mean by Mr. Brunner's myths?

"Percy, were the elderly women at the fruit stand real or imagined? Was there a myth about Mrs. Dodds?

"You acknowledge that Mrs. Dodds existed!"

"Obviously."

"So why—"

Grover stated, "The less you knew, the fewer monsters you'd attract," as if that were crystal clear. We covered the human eyes with mist. We hoped the Kindly One would appear to be a delusion. However, it was not good.

You began to recognize yourself.

"Who I—what do you mean, hold on a second?"

Somewhere behind us, closer than before, the strange roaring sound arose once more. We were still pursuing whatever was pursuing us.

My mother said, "There's not enough time and too much to explain, Percy."

We must bring you to a safe place.

"What is safety from? Who is pursuing me?

Grover remarked, "Oh, nobody much," clearly still irritated by the donkey remark. "Just a few of his bloodthirsty minions and the Lord of the Dead."

"Grover!"

I apologize, Mrs. Jackson. Would you please drive more quickly?

I made an effort to comprehend what was going on, but I was unsuccessful.

This wasn't a dream, I knew that. I didn't have any creativity. I could never have imagined something so bizarre.

My mother abruptly left. We veered onto a smaller road and sped passed wooded hills, gloomy farmhouses, and white picket fences with PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES signs.

"Where are we heading?" I inquired.

"The summer camp I mentioned to you." My mother was attempting to keep me from being afraid, therefore her voice sounded tense. "The location your father intended for you to go."

"The location you wanted me to avoid."

"Please," my mother pleaded. "This is challenging enough. Make an effort to comprehend. You are in danger.

"Because of some elderly women who cut yarn."

Grover remarked, "Those weren't old ladies." The Fates were those. Do you understand what it means that they showed up in front of you? Only when you're about to—or when someone is about to die—do they do it.

"Whoa. "You" is what you said.

"No, I didn't. "Someone," I said.

"You intended "you," as in "me."

"I didn't mean you, you, but'someone.'"

"Guys!" my mother exclaimed.

I caught a glimpse of a figure as she jerked the wheel sharply to the right.

A black, fluttering figure that she had swerved to avoid is now vanished in the storm behind us.

"What was that?" I inquired.

Ignoring my question, my mother remarked, "We're almost there." One more mile. Please. Please. Please.

All that was visible outside was rain and darkness, resembling the desolate landscape found far out on Long Island. I recalled Mrs. Dodds and the time she had turned into the leather-winged creature with pointy teeth. My delayed shock caused my limbs to go numb. She hadn't been human at all. She intended to murder me.

I then remembered Mr. Brunner and the sword he had flung at me.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up before I could question Grover about it.

Our automobile burst with a jaw-dropping roar and a dazzling brightness.

I recall feeling weightless as if I were simultaneously being hosed down, fried, and crushed.

"PERCY" Sally shouted

"I am okay"

I made an effort to wake up. I was still alive. Actually, the car hadn't exploded. Our vehicle had veered into a ditch. We had our driver's side doors stuck in the mud. Rain was pouring in and the roof was broken open like an eggshell.

Lightning. That was the only reason. We had just been blasted off the road. There was a large, still lump in the backseat next to me. "Grover!"

Blood was dripping from the side of his mouth as he sagged over. I thought, "No," and shook his fuzzy hip. You are my dearest friend and I don't want you to die, despite the fact that you are half barnyard animal!

When he moaned, "Food," I realized there was yet hope.

My mother said, "Percy, we must." Her voice trailed off.

I turned around. Suddenly, I noticed a guy stumbling toward us on the road's shoulder through the mud-spattered back glass.

I shuddered at the sight of it. It was the dark outline of a big man who looked like a football player. He appeared to be covering his head with a blanket. He had a big, fluffy top half. He appeared to have horns due to his outstretched hands.

I took a deep breath. "Who is—"

With deadly seriousness, my mother continued, "Percy." "Exit the vehicle."

My mother flung herself at the door on the driver's side. In the muck, it was stuck shut. I gave mine a try. Also stuck. Desperately, I glanced up at the roof hole. The edges were flaming and sizzling, but it might have been an exit.

My mom urged me to get out of the passenger's side. "You have to run, Percy. Is that large tree visible to you?

"What?"

I saw the tree she was referring to—a massive pine at the top of the closest hill that was the size of a White House Christmas tree—through the burning hole in the roof after another lightning strike.

My mother remarked, "That's the property line." "A large farmhouse may be seen in the valley once you cross that hill. Don't look back while you run. Call for assistance. Continue until you get to the door.

"You're coming too, Mom."

Her eyes were as dejected as when she gazed at the sea, and her face was pallid.

The man with the blanket on his head continued to snort and groan as he approached us. As he approached, I saw that his hands—large, meaty hands—were swinging at his sides, which made it impossible for him to be carrying a blanket over his head. No blanket was present. In other words, the large, hazy mass that was too large to be his head was indeed his head. Additionally, the tips that resembled horns

My mother informed me, "He doesn't want us." "He desires you. In addition, I am unable to cross the property border.

I became enraged, therefore, at Grover the goat, my mother, and the horned creature that was slowly and methodically approaching us like a bull.

I pushed the door open into the downpour after climbing across Grover. "We are traveling together. Mom, hurry up.

"I informed you—"

"Mom, I won't abandon you. I need your help with Grover.

I didn't hold off till she responded. After getting Grover out of the car, I clambered outside. Even though he was surprisingly light, without my mother's help, I couldn't have carried him very far.

I saw the creature for the first time when I looked back. His arms and legs resembled something from the cover of Muscle Man magazine, with bulging triceps, biceps, and a variety of other "ceps" crammed like baseballs beneath vein-webbed skin. He was seven feet tall and easy.

He was just dressed in his brilliant white Fruit of the Looms underwear, which would have been amusing if not for the fact that his upper body was so frightening. Beginning around his belly button, his coarse brown hair grew thicker till it reached his shoulders.

Okay, I knew what the creature was. One of the first stories Mr. Brunner told us featured him. He couldn't be real, though.

I wiped the tears from my eyes. "That's—"

My mother said, "Pasiphae's son." "I wish I had realized how much they want to murder you."

"But he's the Min—"

"Don't mention his name," she cautioned. "Names have power."

At least a hundred yards uphill, the pine tree was still far too far away.

I looked over my shoulder once again.

The bully crouched over our vehicle, peering—or not staring, precisely—in the windows. More akin to nuzzling or snuffling. We were about fifty feet away, so I wasn't sure why he bothered.

"Food?" Grover groaned.

I said to him, "Shhh." "What is he doing, Mom? Is he not observing us?

She remarked, "His hearing and vision are awful." "He detects scents." But in due time, he will discover our whereabouts.

The bull-man roared in anger as if he had been waiting for it. The chassis of Gabe's Camaro was cracking and moaning as he hauled it up by the ripped roof. He flung the automobile down the road after lifting it over his head. Before coming to a stop, it skidded in a shower of sparks for over half a mile after slamming onto the wet road. The gas tank burst.

"Ohhhh Nooo" Percy said silently and condescendingly.

"Percy" when he sees us he will we should jump out of the way he cannot turn very well. How do you know this asked percy. I have been preparing for attacks percy I was wrong to keep this from you. The bull-man began to stomp uphill after letting out another roar of anger.

He had detected our scent.

Grover wasn't getting any lighter, and the hill was becoming slicker and steeper even though the pine tree was just a few yards away.

The bully got closer. He would be on top of us in a few more seconds.

Despite her obvious exhaustion, my mother took Grover's place. "Go, Percy! Keep apart! Do not forget what I said.

Although I didn't want to break up, I felt she was right and that it was our only option. When I turned after running to the left, I saw the thing looming over me. He had hate in his black eyes. He had a terrible meat odor.

With those razor-sharp horns pointed directly at my chest, he lowered his head and charged.

I wanted to run because of the nausea in my stomach, but I couldn't. This is something I could never outrun. As a result, I stood my ground and abruptly leaped aside.

The bull-man pawed the dirt and groaned. In an attempt to guide the monster away from Grover, he continued to eye my mother, who was now slowly backing away downhill, back toward the road.

"Percy, run!" she yelled at me. "There is nothing more I can do. Run!

But as the beast charged her, I just stood there, paralyzed with horror. As she had instructed me, she attempted to avoid it, but the beast had learned his lesson.

As she attempted to pull away, his hand sprang out and caught her by the neck. As she fought, kicking and beating the air, he hoisted her.

"Mom!"

She managed to gasp out one final word, "Go!" after catching my attention.

My mother vanished before my eyes, turning into a shimmering golden form that resembled a holographic projection as the monster roared in rage and locked his fists around her neck. After a dazzling flash, she was just...gone.

"No!"

My anxiety gave way to anger. My limbs burned with my newfound strength—the same energy rush I had experienced when Mrs. Dodds developed talons.

Grover lay defenseless in the grass as the bull-man pounded down on him. As though he were going to take Groover up and cause him to disappear as well, the monster crouched down and snuffled my best friend.

I couldn't let that happen.

"Hey!" I ran to one side of the beast and yelled while waving the jacket.

"Hey, fool! Ground beef!

"Raaaarrrrrr!" The beast shook his beefy fists and turned to face me.

I came up with an idea, a dumb one, but better than none at all. With my back to the large pine tree, I waved my red jacket at the bully, hoping to dodge him at the last second.

However, that is not how it happened.

The bully rushed too quickly, reaching out to seize me in every direction I attempted to avoid.

Time slowed.

My legs tensed. With no way to dodge, I jumped straight up, kicked off the creature's head, and landed on its neck.

How did I even do that? No time to think. Its head smashed into a tree, and the jolt nearly knocked me off.

It staggered, thrashing to shake me loose. I clung to its horns, rain blinding me, the stench of rot choking me, thunder roaring in my ears.

Like a rodeo bull, the monster bucked and shook himself around. I was beginning to understand that this vehicle only had one gear—forward—but he should have simply backed up into the tree and smashed me flat.

The bull-man turned to Grover, pawing the ground to charge. I remembered how he'd squeezed the life out of my mom, and fury ignited in me. Gripping one horn with both hands, I yanked with everything I had. He tensed, grunted—and snap!

The monster roared and flung me across the grass. I hit the ground hard, my head smacking a rock. Dizzy and dazed, I sat up, clutching a jagged horn the size of a knife.

The bull-man roared in pain, clawing at his chest before crumbling away like sand in the wind. Just like that, he was gone.

The rain had stopped, but I was shaking. My head felt like it was splitting open, and I smelled like livestock. I was weak, scared, and grieving. My mom was gone, but Grover needed me. Somehow, I managed to get him up and stumble toward the farmhouse lights.

I collapsed on the porch, tears streaming down my face as I called for my mom. Through the haze, I saw a ceiling fan spinning above me, moths circling a yellow light, and two faces—a bearded man and a blonde girl.

"He's the one," the girl said.

"Quiet, Annabeth," the man replied. "He's still conscious. Get him inside."

(Authors note)

doctz:- For Fallen angels to appear you have to wait a long while but if you keep reading they will.

Monster king:- Thanks I am going to uploading at least twice a month from february