[1] 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 , p. jackson

xxxvi. i think this might be the end pt. 1

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX ───────────
✧₊˚｡({  I THINK THIS MIGHT BE THE END PT.1  })

" circus BRITNEY SPEARS "

{ ROMA }
JULY 1ST, 2010
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ROMA'S STARTING TO THINK THEY were crazy to initiate this fight. A suicidal battle against two giants in their own home territory without a god to help kill them? Bad idea. Very bad idea.

          Everyone scatters in different directions. Jason to Elora and Nico, Percy to Otis, Roma to Ephialtes, Piper to . . . Roma has no idea where Piper goes. She only has two eyes.

          But as soon as they're far enough away from each other, metal walls ascend from the floor at lightning speed and enclose Percy in a metal box, closing in faster and faster. She moves to help him when something creaks over her and a warm, salty breath hits the side of her neck. She freezes and a hiss echoes in her ear. She forces herself to look up.

          Oh hell. It's a hydra. A massive eight-headed hydra with slick dark brown scales and yellowing eyes and sharp pupils. Most of it is clinging to the cage above her but one of its heads hisses next to her ear. Its snake-like eyes stare at her, waiting for her to do something stupid, taunting her with its acid-dripping razor fangs.

          Roma takes two seconds to feel the fear consume her, to feel it squeeze her heart until she cannot breathe, and to feel it paralyze her from the neck down before she tightens her grip on her sword and swings. She knows it's stupid. Cut off one head and two more grow in its place. That's the saying. But Roma can't run away from it without hitting something and distracting it.

          The screech its seven other heads let out almost deafens her as she stumbles away, dodging the contracting metal box holding Percy. She doesn't think about saving him. She's not that much of an idiot. She has to save her own ass first. And chances are he's not gonna get beat by a stupid metal box.

          Just as she thinks this, she sees him jump up and grab onto the cages of wolves above him with one hand. They snarl and snap at his fingers but his keen gaze finds her instantly and he watches her run like hell away from a now nine-headed hydra, spitting burning acid at her that sizzles and steams when it hits the ground.

          She runs into a crate full of jars of red liquid that she doesn't want to know the origin of. She stumbles over herself, swearing under her breath in Latin. But then she sees a crate up ahead with the words GREEK FIRE plastered across the front of it in big bold letters. She glances back at the hydra, a plan formulating in her head. Gods, she hopes this works. Otherwise, she'll end up in the history books with the most embarrassing death on a quest of all time.