The Blood of Poseidon [Based on Percy Jackson]

Chapter 44.

Chapter 44

That night though no-one attacked camp, all of them were on edge, jumping and getting defensive if even the wind whistled by their ears. Their weapons next to their pillows, armour sitting right at the door instead of in the armoury like Chiron used to complain about. Except he didn't that night. While some of them opted to do border patrol and the others were in the cabins trying to get rest, none of them would be prepared for what was about to happen.

Nico sat at the table outside the big house, with Will, both of them pretending to play pinochle but really trying to hear what Thanatos and Chiron were talking about. Everyone underestimated Thanatos but Nico knew how powerful he was. He felt is. Thanatos could just touch someone and they would be dead. He controlled the doors of death, and if he was siding with Oceanus and the titans, then they were in for an attack by even more ancient monsters. He also had the knowledge of who was going to die next, and how.
Will was so worried about that fact that he shook his head and even went up to the door, pressing his ear against it. Still, they couldn't hear anything but they hoped that Chiron would ask about who dies next. It had to be someone really good if Thanatos himself was here to collect the souls, Nico thought.
Or maybe he's just here to collect the monsters that escaped, Will reminded him, as Nico pounded his head against the wooden table in frustration. Yes they had disappeared at the sight of Thanatos, but maybe this was all part of the façade.

Percy laid on the bottom bunk of his bed, one hand behind his head, the other spinning riptide between his fingers, absentmindedly. He thought back to his conversation with Zale- or rather Poseidon. There was his father, telling him that he was basically fading- he was dying, Percy admitted to himself. And he couldn't tell his sister about it.
He saw Poseidon's wound, enough to know that there wasn't supposed to be red blood mixed in with the golden blood-ichor- that the gods had. He really had to be weak if he was turning into a mortal.

He looked over to the bed against the wall, where Priya was curled up, her back towards him. By her unsteady breathing though, he knew she wasn't asleep, but she didn't want to talk about anything either if she was away from him.

Priya, on the other hand, was playing with her anchor bracelet between his fingers, staring at the wall. Through the still night, She could hear the soft clunk of Percy's fingernails against the pen as he flicked it, and even the feint sound of the saltwater fountain in the opposite corner of the room. Yet  her mind was racing, constantly hearing shield clashing, or that terrible laugh of the titan who locked her in the cage. Or the feeling of her skin ripping apart as those demigods had tortured her.

She needed go tell someone. She wanted to talk to Percy, but since they visited Tyson in the infirmary, this suddenly became real. Sure they had fought monsters and such before and that was real, but now they knew it may be their last chance at survival. They could actually die in the very same place-the only place that was meant to keep them alive.

She needed to tell Percy the truth. The real reason why she ran away from Poseidon, or even why she stopped trusting him. She didn't know if he was telling the truth about it, but now that camp was infiltrated and they were in fight or flight mode, a little part of her still wanted to believe that they had a chance.
She had barely adjusted back to camp life, before it was all taken away from her again.

It was like reliving the 6 months she spent in Tartarus, only this time the monsters were above ground with her. The same survival instincts there, even though she knew she would've been protected in the borders of camp. Not anymore, that little voice in her head reminded her. The borders have been destroyed. The reaper of souls is on camp's grounds. How was she to prevent this war when it was right outside her door?

She turned to watch Percy, his pen now stagnant in his hand and his eyes closed. She carefully tiptoed outside, opening the door greying greeted by the cold air. She pulled off one of Percy's hoodies from the hanger, throwing it on before walking towards the hearth.