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Escape. I need an escape.
His arms were numb when he opened his eyes. In fact, his whole body was. Panic flared throughout his nerves as he stared blankly at the ceiling, not being able to do anything else.
You may be wondering how Newt Isaacs ended up in a position like this, completely paralyzed in this weird ass place. The truth is, he could move, but if he did, it would find him, and he was not about to be caught with that thing, whatever it was. He was in the storage closet in the back room of his work at the local flower shop (so feminine, believe it or not, newt got that a lot), cowering in the corner behind brooms and boxes of paperwork. It was his last resort. He'd seen glimpses of the creature for weeks, lurking near school and his house, and after hiding for as long as possible, he moved to the most secure place he could think. It was like the creature was tracking him and no where was safe.
Maybe he was going crazy. No one else seemed to notice the twelve foot beast with one eye at the center of its supposed forehead that had been haunting his dreams.
The door handle juggled. Thank gods there was a lock on it.

Crack.

Shit.

And then there was no more door to be locked or closed. It was in the hands of a bulky giant, it's broad shoulders surpassing the doorframe. It's eyes, well, eye, was tainted red on the center of its forehead. The hair on its head was a tangled mess, as if it had never been brushed or washed a day in however long the thing had lived, which Newt could only assume had been a long time. It's like it had come straight out the mythology book his aunt had read him as a little kid.
Cyclops. This can't be real.
The creature sniffed in the air, grinning with its one tooth.
"I smell three demigods! More lunch for me!"
Demigods? Three? Was the thing referring to-
Newt's thoughts were interrupted by a sword digging into its thigh, and then a wail that shook the building. Out of thin air, two people about his age appeared, looking badass and charging the beast. The girl was summoning some sort of mist, swirling it around the wound on its leg and damaging it more. The boy was making it stagger with said sword, until it eventually fell, allowing him to kill it by slitting its throat. Newt marveled at the sight. The girls hair was swishing around as she made the thing disappear with her mist, a look of pure concentration plastered on her face. It was gone as if it was never there. The boy was sheathing his sword, smirking as he looked to Newt. His brown hair fell into his eyes as he made his way over to him. When he reached the blonde, he stuck out his hand, smiling lightly as he said, "Hi. That's Brenda," he said, pointing at the girl, "and I'm Thomas. We just saved your life. You're welcome."

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