Percy Jackson: The Light Bringer

The End, Or The Beggining?

    Far, Far below, two people anxiously watched the hero. A man and a woman, siblings, their faces tense with anticipation and worry.

   "What's he doing?" The man asked, walking around in a circle.

   "I don't know," The woman replied.

   "Is he alright??" He asked again.

   "I don't know," she repeated, biting her tongue.

   "Shouldn't we help him?" He questioned, pacing around the room with his hands in his overcoat pockets.

   "You know we can't, not yet." She patiently told him.

   "Why not?" He cried out like a child.

   "I don't know!" She yelled back at him, anger in her tone. "Father told me not to!"

   "You don't know that!" He yelled back, his expression suddenly darkening. "He hasn't spoken to us in...a long time!"

   "Well, he did now!... I think." She retorted uncertainly.

   "Brother! Sister! Please!" Came a third voice. "Let's not turn this into another Thanksgiving dinner, shall we?"

   "Ah, here comes Michael to the rescue! Like always!" The man scoffed at him. Michael glared at his brother but didn't reply.

   They looked at the hero, holding the body of the dead girl in his arms. It pained their hearts to see him like that, but thousands of years of bloodshed and gore had steeled their immortal nerves.

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   Percy had no tears left. He was tired.

   He placed Andromeda's body on the floor, a tingling sensation of inevitability passing through him.

   But he didn't blame himself. No, Andy wouldn't have wanted that. He would make sure that the real culprits paid.

   He stood up despite his body begging him to rest. He looked at the doors, the two metal blocks still standing there unaffected.

   They were taunting him.

  'A life, in exchange for my help. See you soon, young hero.' He heard something beyond the two towering pillars say. His eyes widened as he realised what he had done.

   Looking back at this point in history, this was the moment it all went wrong.

   Perseus heard the roar of Conquest echoing through the cavern. His breathing became erratic as he buried his head in his hands. He pulled at his hair as he screamed, the loudest he had ever screamed until his lungs couldn't take it anymore.

   He looked down his tattered shirt, the symbol of Lucifer tattooed on his skin. The spell of power slowly came to his mind, a risky gamble.

   He had only done it once before, and he barely survived. But he has nothing to live for anymore, so why bother. Despite his promise to never do it again, he said the words.

   'I call upon the power of Lucifer, Bringer of Light,

   Father of Darkness, Herald of Night

   Shaker of Nations, Embodiment of Might'

   Percy once more felt the intoxicating power of the Devil flow through his veins.