Stories from Other Writers

Marinette : Adventure at the Camp-HalfBlood

That day would forever remain in the hearts of the campers forever. When Marinette was eleven, she found out who her godly parent was.

She had been walking with Annabeth to the training yard, near the entrance of the camp, when they heard roars and a scream. Annabeth turned pale but a determined look appeared in her eyes. Marinette patted the blonde's shoulder comfortingly. Though they were the same age, the blonde had arrived at camp a year after Marinette, and not under the best of circumstances. Grover,

Luka, Thalia, and Annabeth had been being chased by the most dangerous monsters from the underworld. Thalia hadn't made it. It had been four years since.

Each girl pulled out their swords, braced their shields, and raced towards the entrance of the camp. What they saw made both of them nearly throw up their breakfasts.

Charles Beckendorf, son of Hephaestus, Laurel Victor, daughter of Nike, and Malcolm

Pace, son of Athena were racing back to camp; different monsters hot on their tails. The three

had been given a mission to retrieve Hephaestus' stolen Helm. In this case, the helm was just a fancy word for solid gold, expertly carved, war helmet.

Laurel, easily the fastest girl at camp, was heavily injured and struggled with a wounded Malcolm to get to the safety of the camp borders while fending off the monsters. Charles, wearing his father's helmet, fought valiantly and desperately to give his friends time to escape.

"Go get help," Marinette ordered the other girl. "Anyone you can. Find medics from Apollo cabin. Hurry."

It was a credit Annabeth that she didn't hesitate to follow the direction as she raced off to seek allies.

Marinette, on the other hand, raced the other way; out of the camp, out of the safety of the boundary line, straight to battle. She'd seen the manticore sneaking up on Charles and knew that between the Cyclopes and hellhounds swarming him, he was a dead man. Marinette rushed passed Laurel and Malcolm and was just in time as the manticore's tail moved to strike Charles, it hit Marinette's shield.

Fury filled her blue eyes as she began to fight: armor-less and with only a shield in one hand, a sword in the other, and a dagger on her hip, side by side with the son of Hephaestus. "Go!" She yelled at the other two demigods as she slashed at a Cyclops. As the monsters swarmed her and Charles, Marinette noted with a small bit of relief, that in the midst of the chaos of battle and her shoving her sword through the eye of a Cyclops with horrible breath, she spotted that Laurel and Malcolm crossing over the barrier.

However, the relief died when a fearsome roar shook the very foundations of the camp and both campers to very cores.

The creature had no legs and crawled on the ground like a snake. It was over 200 hundred feet long and had scales that glistened like armor. The monster moved like lightening and when Marinette met its eyes, for a moment she froze in sheer terror, "Drakon," She whispered. That when she knew one or both of them were going to die. Only a child of Ares even had a remote chance of defeating it.

"Shit," Charles said as he killed a hellhound. Most of the monsters had been defeated. Only a few cyclopes and hellhounds remained. "Run back to camp!" He ordered. "Hurry! I'll hold it off."

Marinette didn't have to even look at the black boy to know he wouldn't stand a chance. Charles looked like he barely had enough strength left to lift his sword one more time. He was bleeding all over. He had so many injuries and wound Marinette wondered how he managed to keep himself upright.

With a swing of her sword, Marinette finished off the last Cyclops. "Not this time," She told the older boy. "You're hurt really bad." She told him. "It'll kill you in seconds and get me before I even make it back. I'll hold him off. I'm strong enough. I can do it."