Chapter Text
This had to be a bad dream. Kyle had to be dreaming. That was what he kept trying to tell himself as he watched the Hellhound pick itself up and shake as it glared him down. Promising to rip him limb from limb and devour him like the tasty Demigod he was. Kyle’s hold tightened on his mace as he stared it down, daring it to try. He was aware of Stan behind him, scrambling to his feet. Unsteady and terrified. Of all the people to turn out to be just like him, why did it have to be his one link to the life of a regular mortal? How in the world had Stan stayed hidden for so long?
Their small town was always crawling with satyrs and monsters. Always a hotbed of activity for the supernatural.
“Kyle? What the hell is going on, dude?! Why did you hit it?!” Stan demanded, coming so he could stand beside Kyle rather than standing behind him where it would be easier to protect him. “Where did you get that?!”
Kyle wanted to answer all his questions. He truly did. But there were more pressing issues as Kyle heard the baying of more dogs. “No time.” He blurted as he grabbed Stan’s wrist and dove out of the way as their broken-jawed friend charged. as Stan stumbled and slowed them down. But he was dragging him down the bleachers as soon as his footing was stable enough.
If it were just him, Kyle would stand and fight. But that was not an option with a confused, scared, and unarmed demigod. Stan would get himself eaten while Kyle tried to deal with the monsters. He nearly slipped on the icy ground but found his footing to keep running. “Damn it…” He scowled as more Hellhounds appeared from the woods around their school. No doubt using the shadows to travel.
Well, two could play at that game. Kyle just needed to find a good place that wasn’t the damn woods. That was not an option right now with it crawling with oversized mutts. He took a moment to freeze, looking around for a good spot when he spotted the equipment shed. Bingo. Kyle stepped to hurry in that direction but found it much harder to move.
“Stan! Come on!” Kyle snapped at his best friend. But he knew it was hopeless. Kyle had seen that look a million times before. On kids facing monsters they had never seen before, on kids shaking in their boots as he approached them on capture-the-flag days. His friend was frozen in fear as the hounds closed in on them. Five in total, including good old Broken Jaw. Quite the party for two demigods.
Kyle gripped his mace, narrowing his eyes. No choice but to stand and fight. His father would be oh so proud of him. Standing and facing his death without fear.
But Kyle was not about to die. Not when he had someone to protect and a war to wage on some canines. “All eyes on me, you bastards…” Kyle said. He hoped they would pay Stan no mind. Give him a chance to get away once he came to his senses.
The demigod stepped to meet the first one with a mace right to the skull. There was a sickening crunch, and then it was collapsing in golden dust. Kyle spun to meet the next one, catching it in one leg. It bent under the force. Kyle was about to slam his mace down on it when jaws clamped down on his left leg, making him stumble. “Shit!” He cried. Another jumped and clamped its jaws on his arm.
He was going to be torn apart. Despite these thoughts, Kyle struggled. Trying his best to break free, to keep fighting. There was no way he was going to die like this. He had to do something.
Then something Kyle did not expect happened.
From the frozen ground, bushes of red roses erupted. They quickly enveloped the Hellhounds, strangling them with sickly sweet perfume and thorned vines. Somehow, they avoided hurting Kyle. Even seeming to move away if they got too close to him. The one holding his arm erupted in dust, then the one he had broken the leg of. That just left the one on his leg and Broken Jaw.
Now free, Kyle twisted himself and slammed his mace down on the head of the hound holding him. Not caring what damage it caused him. Blood stained his pant leg and dripped down his arm as he turned to take care of the Hellhound that kicked off this whole attack. He raised his mace. But the thorns had other plans as they curled around the Hellhound, squeezing until it popped in a brilliant shower of golden monster dust.
Kyle had to wonder if this was some sort of divine intervention until he turned to Stan and saw him with his hands pressed to the ground, panting. Had his friend…?
There would be time for those answers later. Kyle limped as quickly as he could to Stan, then hoisted him up. “Come on… Stay with me a little longer.” He said as he made his way towards the storage shed. Stan mumbled something, but Kyle didn’t catch a single word. It was hard to tell who was supporting whom at the moment.
Kyle was grateful that the shed was not locked for once. He got it open, then promptly collapsed on the floor with Stan. “Hey… you still got your phone? I need to make a call.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure…” Stan fumbled in his pockets, then handed it over to Kyle. He looked as if he had just run a marathon. “What… What the hell was that..?”
Kyle punched in the number he had been given in case of an emergency. He guessed there was time for answers now. “Well… you remember those Greek myths we did a lesson or two on in World History?”
“Yeah… But what does that have to do with anything?” Stan asked as they listened to his phone ring, waiting patiently for the person on the other end to pick it up. It seemed he had some energy back; his eyes were now focused on Kyle’s injuries. Kyle wasn’t paying them any attention. He could get them taken care of when they reached the camp. Besides, he could already feel the bleeding stopping. It was a nice bonus from his dad.
“Well, they’re real. The gods have children with mortals, and the monsters smell those kids.” Kyle said. “That’s what you and I are. Demigods.”
“What? No way, dude.” Stan said, disbelief written all over his face.
Kyle opened his mouth to point out that he had seen it with his own two eyes. That no dog was as big as the ones that had just put holes in Kyle. But he was pulled away from the conversation as the person he needed answered the phone. “Hey. It’s me… Need a pickup.” He listened to the other teen, then gave him the exact coordinates of where they were located. “Yep. We’ll be here. See you soon.”
“Who was that..?” Stan asked as he watched Kyle stand, open the door, then throw his phone out into the snow. “Dude! What the hell?!”
“A friend.” Kyle stopped him before he could go out into the snow to retrieve it. “It amplifies our scent. Makes it easier for monsters to track us.” He explained quickly.
“Dude, if this is a prank, it isn’t funny! Those are just stories!”
“I used to think that too,” Kyle said, looking away from Stan. “Until I had to run in the middle of the night because monsters attacked my house.”
Stan stopped trying to get past him. “What?” He asked. “Is that why—”
Stan was cut off as there was a crack, then a lanky blond boy appearing from nowhere. He grinned and waved. Kyle saw the way Stan’s eyes bugged out of his head and the way he looked around to see where the boy could have come from.
“Thanks for coming, Kenny. You good to get us to camp?” Kyle asked.
“You know it. Your chariot of shadows awaits.” Kenny grinned. He reached out and grabbed both of them, then slipped into the shadows.
Kyle didn’t particularly mind the roller coaster feeling of traveling through the shadows or the way they were a few feet above the ground when they arrived. Kyle and Kenny landed just fine, but Stan stumbled and nearly fell flat on his face. They were just inside the forest of Camp Half-Blood. The shadows provided the perfect landing spot. At least the cabins and dining pavilion were in view. Which meant Kyle could see an Apollo camper quickly to get his injuries tended to.
“So… this is a new camper?” Kenny asked with a grin. “He’s looking a little—”
They were both distracted as the symbol of a dove burned over Stan’s head, the mark showing that he was a son of Aphrodite. Kyle couldnt help but stare in awe. Which meant that those thorns… It had to have been his friend.
Unfortunately, this revelation was soon followed by Stan doubling over and losing the contents of his stomach.