Freak || Percy Jackson x OC

One Hundred and Thirty-Six: This one is scary, so no funny title

SEN

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Sen marched out to the middle of the arena. Instantly, the monsters started booing her. What good was a demigod like her going to do? A daughter of Psyche? Boring. Legacy of Venus? Powerless. Blessed by Mars? What good does that mean really?

The first tier of seats was twelve feet above the arena floor. Plain stone benches wrapped all the way around, and every seat was full. There were giants, dracaenae, demigods, telekhines, and stranger things: bat-winged demons and creatures that seemed half human and half you name it- bird, reptile, insect, mammal.

But the creepiest things were the skulls. The arena was full of them. They ringed the edge of the railing. Three-foot-high piles of them decorated the steps between the benches. They grinned from pikes at the back of the stands and hung on chains from the ceiling like horrible chandeliers. Some of them looked very old- nothing but bleached-white bone. Others looked a lot fresher. Some still filled with decomposing flesh that limply fell to the floor. Others still had blood dripping down.

In the middle of all this, proudly displayed on the side of the spectator's wall, was something that made no sense- a green banner with the trident of Poseidon in the center. What was that doing in a horrible place like this? 

Sen held a bronze sword in her hands. It wasn't her weapon. She was good at any weapon as long as it was made of her golden rings. This weight felt all wrong. It was too large yet too light. Balanced yet wonky. Off-kilter. Too thin. Not a good enough handgrip. Sen spun the sword around in her hand. If it had been the exact kind of sword but made from her rings, she could've been fine.

"Ethan!" She screamed. She saw her friends waiting in the arena corridor, guarded off by a rail. Percy was right at the edges, yelling at her to win. It was his turn, next. They promised he'd have three trials. Sen had one; defeat Ethan and be safe, or Ethan kills her.

"Come out and fight me!" Sen taunted as she waved her sword around. The leather chestplate (all she'd been given for defense) fit her too snugly, and she doubted it'd do much against Ethan, especially if he hit her as hard as last time. Last time, he'd stricken Strife's armor with such forces, sparks flew and burned him and Sen. If he hit like that again- if he hit like he truly wanted her dead- Sen wouldn't survive that.

She heard the gate rolling up. She braced herself. She hadn't seen him since he betrayed her nearly a month ago. She hadn't so much as dreamed of him. Last she saw, Ethan was a bloody, disgusting mess screaming for her to stop. The last remnant of Ethan that Sen had was his flesh trapped under her fingernails.

She considered doing that again- using her bare hands. It'd give Ethan flashbacks, no doubt. Just like when Sen encountered vines, she had trouble fighting. But it'd be hard to go bare-handed if Ethan was armored up. If Strife didn't encase her body for protection. And this time, she had other people to worry about.

The roaring got louder as Ethan walked out. He wore bronze armor in the classical Greek style. He had a shield on one arm and a massive bronze sword in the other. Of course, they prepared him more for this and given Sen the bare minimum. The tables had turned- Ethan had the advantage this time around.

His helmet was tucked under his arm, and as he came closer, Sen felt her heart breaking.

His glossy black hair was longer and messier, like he'd given up on trying to keep it neat- which, he used to do. He wore a black eyepatch over one eye. He was thin and wiry, more so than before, and his armor hung off him loosely. It was too heavy for his frame.