Devour

Chapter 5

From the underbrush, fast and furious, weapons striking out with a sharp, angry yell, The Ares Cabin attacked, led by Clarisse, her spear arching with electricity, 

“Percy Jackson, I'm going to kill you!” 

Percy turned sharply, looking panicked. Nico's teeth clenched, and a frustrated, annoyed sound tore through his throat, something similar to a snarl, as he barred both teeth and sword at Clarisse. 

His blade let out a ringing screech as he parried the blow headed for Percy. The electricity ran up his weapon, his hands burning and his chest tight. He did his best to breathe, trying to focus specifically on the fight. He opened his coat, grabbed a knife, and launched it, aiming towards one of the Ares’ children, who was attempting to come from behind them. Something within him purred in delight when the projectile landed on the blonde kid's shoulder.

“Go Percy! It's you they want, get away!” Nico hissed, sparing a short glance at Percy, who was fighting with another one of Clarisse’s siblings. The kid was bigger than Percy was, but he'd seemed to underestimate his smaller opponent's sword work. 

In front of Nico, Clarisse adjusted her spear, flipping herself closer to him and past his blade, the butt of her spear stabbing into his chest without restraint. His chest ached and his lungs wheezed in protest. 

Shit. 

“But-”

“Go!” Nico usually didn't scream, but with the spear hitting him once again, this time in the abdomen, and his patience quickly running out, he was getting incredibly tired of Annabeth’s plan. 

“I didn't think a runt like you would be strong, and I was right.” Clarisse snorted a chuckle that mocked him, stirring more of his anger. He grabbed another knife, using it to swipe at Clarisse, before using his Sword to attempt to knock the spear from her hands. Faintly, he picked up the sound of rocks being kicked up, swords hitting metal and running. 

“The only reason you're acting so high and mighty and annoying is because of you and your Daddy’s attention! Which won't even work because the only thing he pays attention to is violence! He doesn't care about you; he doesn't care about your siblings either, so stop thinking he will; it's useless!” Nico couldn't help the words flying from his mouth, rage and frustration bubbling up beneath his skin. He couldn't think straight, his head hurt, his chest hurt, his binding was getting loose, and his friends were in danger. Something deep in his chest demanded blood in exchange for their protection, and Nico snapped.

“You little-”

His weapons weren't effective, Clarisse was bigger than him, stronger, angrier. She had dropped her spear, charging at him with her bare hands. 

She grabbed his coat, pulling him down to the ground and pinning him beneath her. He hissed, kicking and clawing at what skin was exposed, he could hear the crunch of his nose under her fist, feel it break and bleed. It only seemed to fuel their fight. They rolled From the dirt and into the water. He felt weaker in the water, less connected, less aware. He could feel the water on his face, in his eyes, in his mouth. It hurt to breathe. A subconscious movement, one he didn't even need. But his lungs still burned.

She was drowning him. 

Clarisse's hands dug into hair and nails cut flesh, her knees on his chest and forcing him under the water. His lungs burned with an instinct to breathe, even if his body had no need for the air. 

Then, it felt like the water was boiling, rising like angry waves, arching up above him and allowing him to breathe, then the water crashed down, pulling Clarisse down to the deepest section of the river, shaking and rolling, leaving her sputtering, fighting to reach the surface, just for a few minutes, but long enough for Nico to claw up to the bank of the river and climb out. 

"P- Percy?" It was a murmur; his throat felt dry, and his chest hurt, but he staggered up anyway; he felt that deep, tumbling anger, always there, waiting and inevitable. He grabbed Clarisse's spear on his way up, using it to prop himself up, just to give himself time to orient himself. He sucked in a breath, his tongue burning slightly, was he bleeding? 

He touched it, annoyed to find blood in his mouth, the tip of his tongue missing. Eh, it would grow back later. 

He looked around, noticing the laurel and the cheering; he saw Luke with the laurels and the Red flag, running back to their borders. He smiled slightly, pleased to hear the conch shell horn that signified the end of the game. 

"Luke! Good job." Nico nodded in acknowledgment to the elder boy, hoping he could catch him in a moment of solitude later on, just to speak with him. 

"Thanks!" Luke beamed at him, nodding his head in what might've been possible agreement, or acknowledging him. Nico looked back at the river; it was still now, calm; Clarisse was sitting in the water, watching them, Stewing. She still seemed angry, but maybe she was considering things as well. He could see the cuts across her arms, dripping blood into the water, claw marks raked across her arms, and teeth marks curled across the knuckles of her hands. Nico could still taste the blood, feel the dirt and skin and blood under his fingertips. His head ached, pulsating with a headache and a silent hunger clawing up his throat. 

With the game ended, Nico started off to find Percy, so they could return to the armory and put their borrowed supplies away. 

Through the woods, leading back into the camp, he finally heard the growling of a hellhound. It seemed to be watching him and reared back to pounce at him from the underbrush. He narrowed his eyes, teeth grinding as he sighed, clearly annoyed. In a quick movement, he grabbed two of his knives, launching them into the Hellhound's face. One landed in its eye, the other slicing through its forehead. The creature's growl cut out immediately, just as it dispersed into an explosion of ash, likely returning to Tartarus to later reform. 

Of course, of fucking course someone opened the border. 

It was likely Luke. 

It was time for a talk with him then, awesome. 

But before that, he needed to find Percy. 

With the thought of the other demigod, the hunger flared again, howling for blood and to find Percy, to ensure his safety. Without caring for his injuries, he took off running throughout the camp, calling Percy's name.