The First Attack: Percy's Debute

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Everyone checked their gear before heading out of the camps protective boarders. In the five months they'd been around Percy, so few monsters had attacked, that even Percy was concerned. He knew that even with his aura, that there were desperate or stupid monsters, and yet, not enough attacked to make sense.

Their destination was a reservation with beach front property and many acres of protected land in Georgia. Safe haven from monsters and humans alike. It looked like it was once home to a small family, but had long been out of use. Percy knew that the barrier that kept monsters out was weak and only worked on lesser monsters. If there were more than a few, even the lesser monsters could probably power through the barrier. He readily assumed thats what happened here, after the first time he had seen the inside of the house.

The Hunt never picked up the inside, saying it wasn't a good idea to disturb anything. But one thing that always caught Percy's eye was a picture of a boy. Most of it was scratched off by large claws, but you could see a mischievous smirk and pronounced canines. He wondered who this boy was and why he felt such a connection.

They spent the night there after the week of running it took to get there. He never understood it, but he knew Artemis somehow allowed them to travel faster every time they ran. The distances were too great and the time frame too short to make sense otherwise.

They restocked on supplies and were going to set back out in the morning for Mississippi. There were reports that children were disappearing in that area.

- - -

Percy woke from a dead sleep, his sixth sense going off like crazy. Something was off. Got up and moved quietly to the nearest window to look outside. "Get up! Everyone up!" he shouted, running out of the living room. He bust through the main door, summoning his bow. There were a lot. This kind of grouping up was unheard of since the war.

There had to have been at least fifty some odd monsters. They stood stunned at the lone demigod in front of them. They knew who he was and what he was capable of. Yet they knew he was out numbered...and weak. They could sense his weakness, smell it. With a howl, a Hellhound charged forth, the rest following.

An assortment of Hellhounds, cyclopes, dracanae, and even a few Laistrygonian giants. They all rushed towards the one person who had caused them so many problems. So many humiliating defeats. So many excruciating days spent coming back in Tartarus.

He grinned, summoning his scythe. He didn't use it often, but it was by far his most deadly weapon with a long reach. It would never beat Riptide, but, still, it had a great reach, and was feared.

He spun it around in his hands and waited for the monsters to get closer. The moment the first Hellhound was within reach, he delivered a devastating uppercut, slicing the beast in two. He grinned sadistically as it burst into dust. Nothing was better than the satisfaction of killing a monster who thought it could get the better of you.

He was soon swamped by monsters, but he kept his cool, using his scythe for both offense and defense. Both the blade and the butt of the weapon collided with monsters equally as Percy expertly danced through the ranks of monsters, slicing and bashing the enemies to ribbons. By the time the Hunters had arrived, the only thing they could do was pick of the stragglers as Percy sat around with a grimace on his face.

He had wasted a lot of precious energy on that little stunt and it would take a good deal of ambrosia to make him feel any better.

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