Who is he?(A Percy Jackson Fanfiction)

Appointment with DEATH!

Dark was the night, with no traces of moon. This was the realm of darkness; this was the realm of 'Moarte'. A figure, no not a man neither a woman, nor a human or an animal just a figure. Strolling through the dark, guiding through the shadows, he was so elegant that shadows seemed to make an extension of his body. It was not clear what he wore but it seemed to be a cloak, such black that it seemed to absorb any flicker of light that was available nearby; his was hidden behind a hood,but his eyes seemed to glow behind that veil. Sea green with flickers of black. Despite his seemingly stoic expression, his eyes betrayed his emotions; swirling with power and rage, they also contained pain and hurt that only centuries of existence could withhold. His posture rigid but smooth, his movement guarded but elegant. 

The figure stumbled upon a camp, a camp full of creatures so hideous that are not meant to seen by the eyes of mortals, their faces so ugly, that would nightmares to most of the civilization,their filled with hunger and lust; blood-lust, greed and emotions that are monstrous; because they were monsters; the demons of the tales told for centuries.

But for Moarte, they were its prey, its entertainment, its victims. 

They are not monsters, the real monsters reside in humans. Maorte mused. And then he chuckled, a chuckle so dark, so cold that a chill went through the nature, temperature seemed to be dropped a few degrees; shadows started dancing, the dance of death. The strike is near, the strike to curb its hunger for blood, for  justice, for vengeance, for power. This was the beginning of the end of this camp, one of many that had fallen prey to the mysterious figure.

"We shall attack the demigods tonight, it has been days since I had demigod flesh" a voice rang. Him again!Good mused the dean of death. "Yesssss I too wanna feasssstt on thossse puny demigodsssss, thossssee who dare to opposssse our massssters." hissed an Empousai.

Howls of agreements were heard from the 500 monsters stationed.

SWISH! An arrow sailed through the air and struck a cyclops in his head, instantly disintegration it into dust. A note was attached to the black arrow, having a mark of crossed torches, the symbol of death.

Whispers ran through the monster army while the leader detached the letter written in Ancient Greek. It read: Surrender and die by Thanatos or face the wrath of Keres. 

"Never" bellowed the leader. " Show your face you pathetic coward, tonight we will feast on you-.." His rambling was cut short by a laugh, a cynical cold laugh, humorless and menacing laugh and the cries of Raven, the cry of death, the cry of impending Slaughter.

These signs stirred fear in the monsters, whispers of his name were heard; many tried to break free of the lines and flee. Suddenly a fire, a fire burning purple with hints of green, surrounded the monsters, temperature dropped below freezing point, ash rained down from the sky mixed with snow. The figure emerged out of the cocoon of shadows. With voice cold as snow and sharp as razor he spoke, "Tonight my sword feasts on your blood, you will feed my hunger". Calm and composed he trudged towards the assembled monsters; its every step instigating fears in their dark hearts, reminding them of the slaughter that was about to come. And fast as lightning it struck. With a sword darker than the night itself and another one made of celestial bronze, it struck into the horde of monsters. Its graceful and elegant dance did not comprehend with slaughter it brought, with limbs flying everywhere, black blood staining the grass, monsters turning into dust, the slaughter advanced. It sliced, jabbed, kicked,pierced. His technique so elegant, it feet so nimble, it forced everyone to watch his dance,regardless of the destruction. Howls and grunts of pain filled the atmosphere, music to its ears, covered in yellow dust and black blood it advanced. The sight was such gruesome that many passed out of horror.  But Moarte was not finished, with every single monster it cut, its strikes grew more rutheless. Chopping of the monsters in its way it finally met the leader. Minotaur.

With legs shaking in fear, the monster asked the question that many have feared to ask, "Who are you?". The figure chuckled and answered, " I am here for your appointment with death buff- boy" and then he lowered his hood.

The figure in monster's grew more if it was possible. "Percy Jackson, but you were supposed to be dead"

"I am not Percy Jackson anymore, I am 'Moarte', the Dean of Death, The Slaughtering Knight, The Slayer. Blessed by Thanatos and Keres, I am your doom." with that final speech he cut of the monster's head, disintegrating into dust.

Then the figure laughed, cynical, insane laugh that made the nature shiver. "I am your impending doom monsters, be prepared." Marking his kill with his insignia, he disappeared into the shadows into the realm of dark, leaving a horrible site of slaughter and stench of blood in its wake.

The WAR has begun...... 

                                                                       A/N

SO how was it, good or bad? please comment, positive criticism is appreciable. I will try to update as fast as possible. Please share your views through comments .

-Viraaj