Hunted [ON HIATUS]

Tox's POV

“I honestly have no idea why they’re called the New York Red Bulls,” Hazel Levesque pondered, “I mean, the stadium’s in New Jersey! And why are they referencing Apollo’s sacred cows?”

“Yeah,” Emily di Rosa agreed, trying to keep a straight face, “why are they referencing Apollo’s sacred cows?”

I sighed to myself, and Emily let go the laugh she was holding in. I always seemed to be the one explaining modern things to Hazel these days. Although, in the five years after the war, she seemed pretty well up to speed.

“Hazel,” I said calmly, “Red Bull is the name of an energy drink company. They sponsored the team. And the team was started in New York, so that’s why they’re called the New York Red Bulls. You know, if you guys didn’t want to come, you could have told me you didn’t want--”

“We’re messing with you, Tox!” Emily smiled, kissing me on the nose lightly. “Ugh,” I groaned, “I starting to get annoyed with you ‘messing with me,’ Emily.”

“I know you are,” She agreed, “But it’s still so fun!”

I just sighed in mock frustration again and reached over Emily’s shoulder, bringing her closer. It was nice to have this long of a break. It had been...five years, yeah, five years, since the end of the war with Gaea. Leo and Calypso had disappeared, and I hadn’t gotten word from him. They said he was dead. I couldn’t accept that.

But anyways, five years is a long time. Things seemed to happen so quickly that I felt like this lull in fighting monsters was like a weekend. It’s the same forty-eight hours as Monday and Tuesday are, but it passes so much quicker.

Percy and Annabeth got married. So did Piper and Jason. Now that I think about it, Frank and Hazel wanted to get married so bad that Nico had to stop Hazel from sucking up gold rings and diamonds from the Earth in order to propose. But she’s eighteen now, so I guess they could get married soon and it wouldn’t be as weird.

Gods, I told myself, She’s eighteen! And I’m twenty-one!

We all had those moments, when we realized how much time had really passed since that horrible war.

Now, Hazel, Emily, Nico and I were at a Red Bulls professional soccer game. We thought it funny that the soccer team nearest to Olympus would be named the ‘Red Bulls.’ Ergo, Hazel’s joke.

Half-time passed, and the air in the stadium started to get colder, seeing as the massive building lay right on the Passaic River. Nico gave Hazel his warm aviator’s jacket, which he didn’t look particularly happy about, but he looked calm, which made me smile on the inside. I didn’t expect him to smile, but as long as he wasn’t angry, angsty and moody, that was great.

By the time the game was over, we had cheered for goals three times, happy with the win. We all thought that it was peculiar, us demigods cheering for and caring about a mortal soccer team. But that’s what normal life was. We lived normally now. And we were happy.

Looking back on it, I should have known. I should have realized so many things about the encounter that maybe, just maybe, we could’ve avoided it. But I didn’t. I had been lulled into the security of my happiness. Of my normality.

As we were walking out of the stadium, a man in all black seemed to be tying his shoelaces, causing the river of spectators to pass around him like a boulder in a waterfall. And when I say ‘in all black,’ I mean it. I’m talking a black fedora, black Wayfarer shades, a black overcoat over a black suit. Under that was a black dress shirt with a black tie on, black gloves, black dress slacks, black socks and dress shoes, and I’m pretty sure I caught a glimpse of his belt buckle, which had been painted black. He looked like the meanest federal agent ever.

That’s the first thing I should have realized. I should’ve drawn my bow right there, and shot the guy. That would have saved us so much pain. But I didn’t want to make a scene, and I was rusty. My reflexes were dull, and so was the thinking part of my brain. We didn’t even give him a second glance.

After we passed him, he must have sprung to his feet and followed us because I heard Hazel scream out in pain. We all whipped around, but no one else in the chaotic crowd seemed to care over the deafening chorus of victory songs.

What Nico, Emily and I saw scared the crap out of us. The man’s skin was pure black, darker than a nightmare, and it wasn’t really skin. More like pure shadow, formed into a human’s body. He had taken his glove off and gripped Hazel’s wrist like a metal clamp, and she was trying to rip her wrist out of his hand.

Emily drew her Celestial bronze dagger and stabbed the man’s overcoat, but nothing happened. The bronze passed right through the man. But when Nico drew his sword, the man released Hazel. He hissed at the Stygian iron in the 19-year old’s hands, and Nico slashed at him. The man in black tried to get out of the way, but the crowd seemed to be able to touch him, so he couldn’t move far enough. Nico sliced off a good section of where his shin should’ve been, and the man screamed,

“Maledicite, fili Plutoni!”

Then, he disappeared into the night.

Notes

Hey guys!
So, I got tired of the Chest of Deucalion idea, so I destroyed that. But now I have an even better idea, and I'm working with Echo, which should combine for an epic story with a side of awesome sauce! Anyways, I hope you liked this little tidbit, and since this is on the back burner, but soon to take the main spotlight once I finish up Resurrected, we'll see when we can update this schist.

Enjoy,
Grafon