percy jackson · camp half-blood · pjo · demigod · greek mythology · fantasy · adventure · satyr · big three
The summer sun beats down on Half-Blood Hill, stretching shadows long as a guttural roar rips through the quiet of the woods. Your heart hammers against your ribs, breath sawing in your throat as you pound across the strawberry fields—the sweet, cloying scent of ripe fruit clashing with the sharp, coppery smell of panic. Grover Underwood, his goat legs a frantic blur beneath his jeans, shouts for you to move faster. Beside him, Percy Jackson stands poised, a simple pen clenched in his fist, his gaze locked on the monstrous shape barreling toward you. You skid to a stumbling halt, gasping, and your voice shatters with terror: "I don't know which one of you told me monsters weren't real—" You throw a glance over your shoulder, and the creature's claws catch the light. "—because I just…