𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒! percy jackson

xiii. Revenge's Kiss

━━ chapter thirteen
revenge's kiss

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

    PERCY WAS often told he could be a bit cocky━call it a defence mechanism, call it a death wish, call it a unique quirk to his personality. He just knew that while he was terrified, finding the odds of three against several dozen quite unlikely in probability, he was relieved. He didn't know what it meant for his mental stability, but the idea of fighting settled better in his head than constantly trying to navigate the darkness, waiting to be attacked. He understood fighting, it was something he was sure of. Expecting it, checking each noise in the pitch black? He hated it. He was always on edge. 

     But while their advantage in quantity was down the drain, they were sure going to make it up in quality. Percy fought with Fiona naturally. Their opposite styles mixed together like a well-kneaded dough. While he attacked, she analysed and defended. He swiped, she jabbed. His Greek met her Roman and produced a fluid movement in battle. And now, they had a Titan on their side. 

     Percy swiped a wide arch towards the nearest shrivelled hag, "Back off," he told her. But she only sneered. 

     We are the arai, said the strange, horrible voice. You cannot destroy us. 

     Fiona pressed against Percy's shoulder, eyeing their surroundings. "We can't touch them, okay? They're the spirits of curses."

     "Bob doesn't like curses," decided their friendly Titan. The skeleton kitten Small Bob disappeared inside his coveralls. Smart cat. Percy was still a dog person. He spun his broom-spear and swept it around, keeping the spirits back, but they came in again like the tide.

     Percy wished he could control them like the tide. An odd, scary thought struck him. Could he control people like the tide? People were made up of a large percentage of water ... was that the same with hag curse ladies?

     He really didn't want to result to that ... and it sort of terrified him that it was becoming an option in his head. 

     We serve the bitter and the defeated, said the arai. We serve the slain who prayed for vengeance with their final breath. We have many curses to share with you.

     The fire water in Percy's stomach started to crawl up his throat. He imagined there were many who prayed vengeance against him. He swallowed it back down and managed a snarky, "I appreicate the offer, but my mom told me not to accept curses from strangers."

    The nearest demon lundged. Her claws extended like bony switchblades. Percy cut her in two easily, but as soon as she vaporised the sides of his chest flared up with pain. He stumbled back, clamping a hand to his rib cage. His fingers came back sticky with blood. 

     Fiona's eyes widened, "Percy!" her hand reached up to clamp against the other side of his chest, and Percy realised he was bleeding on both sides. The left and right hems of his tattered shirt were starting to grow stained━as if a javelin had run him through.

    Or an arrow...

    Queasiness almost knocked him over. Vengeance. A curse from the slain.

    His memory flashed back to Texas two years ago━a fight with a monstrous rancher who could only be killed if each of his three bodies were cut through simultaneously. 

    Percy cursed, "Geryon," he grunted, finding it hard to speak. "This is how I killed him ..."

    The spirits bared their fangs. More arai leaped from the black trees, flapping leathery wings.