A Life Of Love | Percabeth AU ✔

Chapter 32 ⚫Vengeance is mine⚫

[WARNING: Foul language, Violence, drugs, abuse, and minor sexual themes. I do not advise the careless use of any of these topics.]

Third person POV:

The wind whipped against the ends of his black coat as the boy walked up the narrow path on the steep hill, leading to the prison where Octavian Augustus was contained.

His fists were clenched inside the coat pockets, and he reeked of revenge. He had adapted some...bad habits, a few years ago, and it took many months and broken bonds to get rid of them.

But that day, he let them flow over him again, and take control over his mind, and body. Percy knew how to work a gun of course, but he had put it away on a high dusty shelf when he realized that he was hurting people, but that day, he relied on that skill to get revenge. He hated it when people broke trusts, and Octavian did the most of that.

4 years ago...

Two figures were lying in hammocks, smoking cigarettes. The first had straw blonde hair and a scrawny figure, his name was Octavian. The second had tousled jet-black hair, and incredible sea-green eyes that shone in the dark. The two boys were laughing, and shooting with guns at empty beer bottles, scaring off the occasional pigeon. 

This was a dark phase of Percy's life, just two years before he became famous, craving for acceptance and company, being the dark emo kid in the back of class, bullied and hit by occasional burly kids, and abused at home by his step-father, Gabe Ugliano.

His mother was the only thing that kept him home, enduring through the hours of screaming and pain, for he knew that if he left, ran away to some dark corner of the world, she would go through gods know what. He could leave her. Start a new life, hell maybe even get a little bit rich. But it was his love for her, and only her, that kept him rooted to New York, to his petite apartment in Upper East Side.

1 year later...

Percy moved swiftly through the crowd in the dimly lit room, which parted to let him through. It was hard not to be intimidated by the angel with those stunning eyes, carry himself with such poise and power, as if he owned the place.

"Octavian." He stopped in front of a desk where the asshole sat. Octavian smiled. "Sit, Percy. I insist."

Percy ignored his offer and remained standing, his sunglasses hanging front the front of his shirt. "I wish to leave The Bleeding Streets." The Bleeding Streets was a gang, led by Octavian Augustus, a boy who had zero fighting skill, but a lot of brain and a silver tongue, a deathly combination. 

Percy had always thought 'The Bleeding Streets' was just figurative, and the motto 'We paint the streets red' was to scare the weak off, but it wasn't till a few days ago that he realised it was real. People were actually dying. They were hurting them, shooting them, stabbing them, even forcing them into...it was horrible to witness. And Percy had been a part of it.

Octavian leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the table. "And why is that?"

"It's horrible. It's fucking horrible, Octavian. What you're doing. It's insane, it's inhuman, it's barbaric, it-"

"What we're doing." Octavian corrected.

Percy shook his head, laughing without humour. "I'm not a part of this," He gestured around the room "-anymore. Goodbye, Octavian. I'd say it was nice knowing you, but I'd be lying."

He turned around and began to walk back when Octavian called from behind him, "If you do this...I'll come after your family-everyone you love. Maybe even a sweetheart if you manage to snag one." He chuckled. The rest of the room nervously followed his example.