Turned [ON HIATUS]

I’ve had a weird set of dreams over the last few days. I mean, they jumped from one place to the next with little to no warning, felt more realistic than any other dream I had ever had in my life, and I’ve actually sustained wounds during them. Like, I’ll go to sleep, and in the morning, I swear I’ll have puncture wounds on my shoulder like someone gave me an injection.

That night, that fateful night, I realized that those dreams actually were real. I was hanging out with my boyfriend Octavian, just relaxing and enjoying the cool night air on top of Temple Hill, when Octavian did something that he had never done before.

“Lexi,” He said, a beautiful and yet almost evil grin on his face, “look what I found.”

He brandished a six-pack of beer, and my eyes widened.

“Octavian!” I scolded, “Where did you get those? Reyna’s going to kill you!”

“Fuck her!” He said, and I quickly responded,

“I wish I could! I mean, she’s one of the cutest girls in the Legion!”

“Gods of Rome, I love when you talk like that,” He responded, a lustful look in his eyes.

I knew how he felt about her, and I tried to avoid the subject at all costs.

Except when I wanted to poke fun at him.

That was the thing about Octavian. He was so high-strung all the time that you had to force sarcasm down his throat to get him to relax. In our relationship however, balancing sarcasm and gentleness wasn’t that easy. Hell, nothing was easy in our relationship. But I felt bound to Octavian through a messed-up bond of loyalty. I wasn’t just going to break up with him because he was a little difficult.

Still, I wondered why he was being so bold all of the sudden. Octavian had absolutely no reason to be angry with Reyna. It had been two years since the First War, and I had only shown up to Camp Jupiter a few months earlier. I had met Octavian on the college campus, and he seemed to think I was…special. People often gave us looks, a twenty-year-old lovingly wrapping his arms around a sixteen-year-old. But I paid them no attention. I loved Octavian.

“Here,” He said calmly, handing me a can, “Let’s just have a talk, eh? Just us two, no one else exists.”

“Oh, I wish,” I told him, taking the can. I had never had much alcohol, so I felt a bit nervous. But it was just us two, how could anything bad happen? Boy, how wrong was I.

We walked up to a secluded spot near the very tip-top of the hill, a place where Octavian and I had spent many long nights talking and kissing and generally loving life. He had never brought drinks before.

“Ah,” Octavian sighed, breathing in, “No Greek camp can say they have a view like this, eh?”

“Why do you care?” I asked nonchalantly, “Camp Half-Blood is 2500 miles away.”

I wondered why he seemed so aggressive tonight, like he was trying to prove that Camp Jupiter was the best. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice told me that he had sounded like this only days before the camps first started fighting. But I ignored that voice.

“Cheers,” He said flatly, cracking open his can as I opened mine. I took a long drink, and when I opened my eyes, I saw that Octavian had put his drink down in the dirt.

“Octavian?” I asked, panic wrapping my brain, and then I realized. He had doped me. “Octavian!” I screamed in disbelief and rage. I was already feeling weak, ready to fall unconscious. I tried to draw my knife, but he disarmed me, just brushing my hair as the knockout drugs worked their way through my system.

_______________________________________________________________________________

I woke up in a car, the engine humming loudly as we rocketed along on the highway.

“Wha…?” I asked drowsily, trying to sit up. My head hurt, and it felt like there were five needles in my arm. When I looked down, I was utterly shocked to find that to be true. Five different IV systems were sticking into different veins in my arms, and I screamed weakly in panic.

“Hold her down!” A high-pitched voice ordered, and suddenly, two sets of strong arms forced me to lie flat.

“Octavian!” One of the sets of arms said, “What do we do now?”

“The final stage of medication,” Octavian said, leaning over my head to look me in the eyes, “1000 milligrams of Nepenthe.”

“Are you kidding me?” The other set of arms said incredulously, “That’ll kill her!”

“No it won’t!” Octavian argued, “Lexi’s a strong girl. Aren’t you, Lexi?”

“Octavian?” I asked drowsily as I looked into his sky blue eyes, full of tears. I felt so weak, but then again, I felt pure, white-hot burning rage for the boy who had drugged me.

"Octavian!" I shouted, "I'm gonna kill you!"

“I’m sorry, Lexi, but I have to do this. The Greeks shall not see another year on this planet.” Then, he pointed to Arm Set 1 and said, “Do it.”

Suddenly, a sharp pain entered my left bicep, and I screamed weakly from the pain. I felt cold, cold liquid flush into my body, and I instantly blacked out.

_______________________________________________________________________________

When I woke up again, a strange boy was sitting across from me on a deserted stretch of beach. He was looking directly into my eyes, like if he stared anywhere else, he would start crying. I thought that made him look weak. He had blonde hair, sky blue eyes, and a knife and teddy bear strapped across his chest, which I thought was kind of a weird combo. Then, he took a deep breath, and said, in a commanding tone,

“Lexi, listen to me. You are on a very special mission. Kill the Greeks that get close to you. Make it discreet. Use your powers against them. Fight for us. And above all, remember this: If you get caught, nothing can tie you to us.”

A billion questions were racing in my head. Who was this boy? What mission was I on? Why did I have to kill anyone, and who were the Greeks I was supposed to get close to? What were my powers? Who was I fighting for, and why was it so secret?

Then, the boy did something even more strange. After seeing my look of confusion, he took out a piece of sand-paper and taped it to his right hand after making a fist, so that the paper was on the outside of his knuckles.

“Lexi,” He said, “I’m sorry about this. But I have to make it look like you hit your head on a rough rock.”

Then, he punched me on the side of the head. A one-hit K.O. I was out instantly.

Notes

Here goes nothing...again. This is my first time writing from an entirely female perspective as far as the POV goes, so be gentle. Also, a major thank you goes to theteenagefandom for giving me tips on how to write in that beautifully different perspective.

Enjoy,
Grafon