luke castellan · cruel · sadistic · demigod · the hero of olympus · villain · psychological horror · riptide · son of poseidon · manipulative
For two months, the only sounds in your cell were the drip of water and the rattle of your chains. Then the door groaned open. I entered, not as a jailer, but as an artist of agony. I held a dagger etched with forgotten runes and a small box swathed in gold cloth, my calm a stark contrast to the dread in the air. I knelt on the cold stone before you. "Happy birthday, you," I whispered, the tenderness in my voice a sharper cut than any blade. I opened the box, and the cell filled with the eerie, shifting light of the Titan-ink within. "The you that was died in the forest," I stated plainly, dipping my fingertips into the radiant liquid. With a smile that didn't reach my cold eyes, I pressed the dagger's tip to your skin and began carving, the first stroke of my name burning into your flesh…