anti hero - percy jackson ²

ix. cyclopes

"you'll be breakfast for the best cyclopes around."

Whatever the Cyclops had hit Cassandra with, hadn't succeeded in knocking her out.

It had succeeded in making her collapse to the floor like a rag doll, allowing for the Cyclops to easily gag her and tie her up with a length of chain.

Even before they had strung her upside down, she had felt like she was on the verge of passing out. Or throwing up. Or both.

Gray morning light was filtering through the hole in the roof. A few lightbulbs flickered, but it did little to light the factory. And the smell. Gods, the smell. It was like a mix of burning motor oil and sour breath.

"Leo, help!" One of the Cyclops cried out, using Piper's voice.

If Leo was in the factory, he didn't make his presence known.

Cassandra never thought that she would be praying for a son of Hephaestus's help, but here she was sending silent prayers to every god she could think of.

"Leo?" It called out, this time using Cassandra's voice.

The Cyclops rose. "Told you it was nothing."

One of the other Cyclops shifted, and used Piper's voice to call out: "Leo, help me! Help—" Then they changed back to its normal snarl. "Bah, there's nobody out there. No demigod could be that quiet, eh?"

The first Cyclops chuckled. "Probably ran away, if he knows what's good for him. Or the girl was lying about a fourth demigod. Let's get cooking."

Snap. A bright orange light sizzled to life—an emergency flare—and Cassandra flinched, squeezing her eyes shut. The bright light was blinding, and made her already painful headache even worse.

When she opened her eyes again, she could see the factory in much better detail. Piper was flailing around beside her, in an attempt to free herself. Jason was knocked out on her other side, and had a swollen red welt the size of an apple over his left eyebrow.

Below her, Cassandra could see a small pool of her blood, from the wound on her head. Gold flecks sparkled from the dark red.

On the conveyor belt, the best of an unfinished pickup truck was being used as a fire pit. The emergency flare had ignited a mixture of tires and wood, which, from the smell of it, had been doused in kerosene. A big metal pole was suspended over the flames—a spit, she realized.

Which meant that if Leo didn't come save them, they would be the Cyclopes' dinner.

The three Cyclopes gather around the fire. Two of them standing, and stroking the flames, while the largest one crouched down. The two standing were easily ten feet tall, with hairy muscular bodies and skin that glowed red in the firelight. One wore a chain mail loincloth, while the other wore a ragged fuzzy toga made of fiberglass insulation. But other than that, they could've been twins.

The Cyclops in the chain mail loincloth walked over to Piper, who squirmed and tried to head-butt him in the eyes. "Can I take her gag off now? I like it when they scream."

The question was directed at the third Cyclops, who was apparently the leader. The crouching figure grunted, and the one in the loincloth ripped the gag off Piper's mouth.

She didn't scream. She instead took a shaky breath like she was trying to keep herself calm.

The Cyclops in the toga poked at the fire, which was now blazing away and billowing noxious black smoke toward the ceiling. The one in the loincloth glowered at Piper, waiting for her to do something entertaining. "Scream, girl! I like screaming!"