《Chapter 2 - Camp half-blood》

"Oof!"

My death was actually quite comfy.

I thought it would be more of a painful ritual, with blood seeping out of my skull and eyes rolling backwards- not something I want to experience.

The smell of burnt filled my nose, and panic rolled over my consciousness in waves. I had no clue to where I was. No sounds except for the occasional chirping of crickets were heard, and however hard I managed to try, I couldn't catch Mrs. Eleanor raspy voice, or Peter's determined warcry.

I didn't dare open my eyes to see where I've landed, in case I see Death itself looming over me, waiting to drag me to the realms of Hades.

Yes, the Greek god of the Underworld.

After a moment of silence, I willed myself to crack an eye open to see if I'm really dead or not.

No sign of Mrs. Eleanor and Peter,  no sign of Death, and most importantly, absolutely no sign of human civilization. In every way, trees blocked my view of sight, making it harder to guess my exact location.

Not that I can.

I brought my hands to the muddy ground that was littered in golden dust, maybe remains of Mrs. Eleanor, to push myself up, but instead found my right hand to a hard smooth surface.

Lifting my hand up, I examined a beige colored horn, probably the size of a T-Rex tooth in a museum. Before I could look closer, a crunch to my left alerted me of a visitor.

Multiple crunches and whispering were heard, and I sat still, with no remaing effort left to stand up and run away.

The shrubs twitched, just like the scenes in horror movies when the scary ghost pops out, scaring the shit out of everyone. Well, there was a fatal difference. This is reality.

A hand shot out of the shrubs, and a small whimper escaped my mouth. Followed by the hand, was the body, and at last the ghost came out in the light.

For a ghost, he was quite solid, if you know what I mean. Black hair, green eyes, and a bright orange t-shirt that can illuminate any darkness.

The distance between us was no longer than a 100 meters. He was walking slowly in my direction (can ghosts walk?), raising his arms in a surrender. My fingers around the horn tightened, and my other hand reached for my pocket knife.

Miraculously, I could feel the hard edge of my knife despite it suppposed to be stuck in my English teacher's chest.

A tingle of shock went through my body, and I had a sensation that someone was watching me.  Without thinking, I turned around and threw the knife, my target being the upper branches of a tree opposite from the mysterious boy.

Painful howling were heard, the whole tree vibrating in a dangerous way. Many branches and leaves fell to the ground, and almost simultaneously, a large boy landed on the ground with a huge thump.

From his thigh, the hilt of my knife glinted in the sunlight.

Guilt conquered my mind, and I struggled to breathe. I- I threw a knife at a boy. A human.

What if I aimed the knife a little higher? Would he have died because of my lack of awareness? Now I'm throwing mini swords like a serial murderer. I'm finally going nuts.

I thought he was a- a-

"Monster."

"Frank!" The ghost screamed from behind, and that snapped me out of my self-pity.

I whipped my head around and instantly posed a defensive stance, the horn above my head with its point facing the ghost. My arms shook, and I gave him the most intense glare I could muster even though my confidence simmered.

"Take one more step, and there will be two males injured instead of one." The malice lacing my tone surprised me, but I was glad that it covered my current state of uneasiness.

The boy sprawled on the ground- or Frank I suppose, kept making noises, and because he fell not too far away from me, I could hear his teeth gritting in pain.

Those sounds are going to be in my nightmare.

I shook my head to concentrate on the ghost in front of me. The look of peace was long gone, and instead a mask of pure anger portrayed his face. Great, I made another enemy.

"Okay, look. We're the same species, and I know you're tired, confused, I get it, I get it. I'll explain what's going on, but I need you-" His eyes moved momentarily behind me and stayed there for awhile. At first, I thought he was checking on his unconcious friend, but then I knew he was looking at someone way back. And I didn't just knew it, I felt it.

"Will, no!"

A woosh was heard, and I turned only halfway when the arrow plunged into my right shoulder. I fell face down from the impact, and the ghost(I'm thinking it's a person by now) reached his hand out to catch me. He quickly pulled out the arrow, and I couldn't even feel the pain. It was as if my entire body numbed, and I was drowning in the water.

I was falling into a dark abyss, and I thought, this was how I'm going to die.

After all these years of fighting monsters, I was going to die from an arrow. A filthy, good to nothing arrow.

My eyes closed, my ears tuned out, and my body shut down.

●●●

"Why did you shoot her! Chiron specifically told everyone not to kill unknown demigods!" A fierce voice of a woman warrior echoed.

"How in the world was I supposed to know she was a demigod? From behind she looked like an empousai trying to kill Percy!" Oh, so the ghost's name was Percy. On my monsters-who-hate-me list.

"Guys stop. At least she's not dead." Well, that's awesome. Thanks for noticing, Percy.

"What if she's the one?" The guy who poorly defended himself, asked.

"She can't be. Her eyes aren't grey." Percy said I a tone of relief.

"Not all of Athena's children have grey eyes. Some have a different eye color if their father has a strong aura." The girl said in a softer voice.

"I don't have a clue to who's daughter she is. I guess the parent will have to claim her themselves."

"Well, it's a good thing that you asked the gods to claim them before thirteen, though she looks older than that. Her aura is strong, almost similar to yours, Percy. It's a miracle she hasn't been devoured by monsters." Thanks.

"What do you think that horn is anyways?"

A pregnant silence followed, and Percy was the one who answered.

"A Minotaur's horn." He whispered.

"How do you know?"

"Experience."

"Ah." And no one talked for a feverishly long time, as if the beige horn was something symbolic to an unpleasant memory.

I decided to open my eyes then, making it more dramatic than ever. Overcoming the weight on my eyelids, I fluttered them open and swiped the room- or tent, for any ogres,  devils, snakes etc.

After the quick survey, my eyes landed on a black mop of hair, and as soon as I could croak a hello, a dagger was up my throat.

"You're up."

"Thanks for noticing." I felt really good, suspiciously good for a person that just came out of a semi-coma.

I eyed the dagger nervously. It was short, about 15 inches at most, but deadly-looking. My eyes crawled up to its owner and saw a pair of grey eyes that could brew up a storm. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a high ponytail,  giving her a warrior image that perfectly matched her voice.

"Sorry for the dagger, but after you almost killed Frank... just precautions."

"That guy has no luck at all. He came to visit Camp Half-Blood for a month, and what does he get on his first day? A welcome party? A party hat? Noooooooooo. He gets stabbed."

"That's enough, Will." Percy spins around his chair and looks right into my eyes. "She's had enough. Annabeth, you can lower your weapon. I doubt she'll attack us."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Ooh. Fiesty. I like this one. Different from the others. These get killed the fastest."

"Will!"

The insanity of the situation caught up to me, and just as I was about to demand answers, the opening of the tent flapped, indicating a visitor.

"Is this the new one?"

I sat up to see the owner of the voice- and almost fainted again.