His Assassin and His Creator

Walking Away

"Hi. I'm Percy. And you are?"

"Oh! My name's Jane. And thank you for saving me from...whatever that thing was." She shudders and tucks a lock of brown hair behind her ear.

"That was an empousa. But you shouldn't have to worry about her for awhile now."

"I-" Jane looks at me, hesitant and clearly taken aback. "What do you mean 'for awhile'? You killed it, didn't you?"

I sigh and give her a welcoming smile. "Yes and no." I hold up a hand, stopping her before she can interrupt. "Let me explain. In our world, there are monsters like the one you just saw. For the most part, they are all bad, and they live simply to hunt us down and kill us. But they all live in a place called Tartarus, the Greek Hell, when not roaming the surface. So basically, when a monster is born they find a way up here, and then when we kill them, they reform down there and the cycle starts all over again."

Jane nods slowly, her nose scrunched in concentration.

"Now come on. We don't want to be outside of camp's borders for too long."

"Borders?"

"A magical barrier that keeps monsters out," I respond while gently grabbing her arm and leading her towards the infirmary.

As soon as we step inside the border, however, Jane is encompassed by a green glow and the symbol of Demeter floats proudly above her head.

Jane yelps and swats at the image, which fades and disappears, while I offer her a smile and say, "That symbol was your godly parent claiming you."

"Oh. So who am I the daughter of exactly?"

"Demeter." I lead the way to the infirmary, not stopping to explain anything else.

When we get inside, Kayla greets me and instantly ushers the girl away, already mumbling nonsense about a graze on Jane's arm. Sighing, I turn on my heel and walk to my cabin, where I collapse on my bed until dinner.

2 Weeks Later

I stare blankly at the wall of my cabin, a pillow clutched to my chest and the covers that usually adorn my bed kicked to the floor. The cabin itself seems to have been decimated by a storm with the way clothes are strewn haphazardly across the floor, old knick knacks have been shoved into a pile in a corner, and a backpack sits at the foot of my bed with random pieces of my life littering the area around it.

My cabin door shudders as someone bangs on it, and I stiffly cover my head with a pillow as the shouting starts back up again.

"Percy fucking Jackson, get out here you little rat!"

"How dare you do this to me!?"

"Come out, you coward! We need to talk to you!"

"Percy, how could you ignore your own family like this?" Jane's voice filters through the door as she calls out to me and I squeeze my eyes shut, barely refraining from getting up and punching them all straight in the face. The only reason I don't is because I know I deserve this...Perhaps I didn't do any of what they're accusing me of, perhaps I didn't wash away the Demeter kids' garden, perhaps I didn't destroy all of the Hermes kids' pranking supplies, perhaps I didn't steal and hide all of the Apollo kids' medical utensils, perhaps I didn't spit lies to the gods about how horrid they all are, perhaps I didn't kill my Mom and Paul like Poseidon accused me of doing, but does that really change who I am? Does that really change the monster I am? The monster who failed to save his friends; the one who let them die when he could've done something to help them?