𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩

Chapter 8

Four - (y/n)
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Happy Birthday, Mate

(y/n) had dreams filled with barnyard animals, surrounding him like the plague, as if looking up at their mother. Some of them wanted food, some others were asleep at his feet.

He felt like he'd woken a handful of times, though whatever he could see or hear was blur and blabber that he couldn't quite comprehend, so he simply dozed off again. He could feel himself being spoon-fed some pudding looking thing that, strangely, tasted like red licorice. The blonde girl he still mistook as his mother seemingly glided above him, feeding him more pudding.

Once she noticed his hazy eyes looking up at her, she hurried to ask, "What will happen at the Summer Solstice?"

He barely uttered the strength to hum out, in an even thicker accent than his usual, "W'ot?"

She looked around, as if afraid someone would over-hear. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

"Sorry," (y/n) mumbled, "I don't..."

Somebody knocked on the door, and the girl quickly filled his mouth with pudding.

The next time he woke up, the girl was gone, but he could notice he was only one of the three boys laying down on one of the beds.

A husky blond dude, like a surfer, stood in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over the three children. He had blue eyes-at least a dozen of them-on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands.

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Once he had actually gotten a hold of himself, (y/n) noticed that he wasn't in anywhere weird anymore. He was sitting down on a porch on top of a deck chair staring up into a stunning green meadow, with a scent of strawberries in the air, a blanket over his legs, a pillow behind his head, and, what mainly attracted his attention, Benny laying under his feet and serving as leg rest. All those things listed were great, but his mouth was scaly and chafed, as if he'd been hanging it open for a full day. His face was also uncomfortable to move around as he blinked and shifted his jaw.

On the table next to (y/n) was a tall drink. It looked like iced apple juice, with a green straw and a paper parasol stuck through a maraschino cherry.

His hand was so weak he almost dropped the glass once he got his fingers around it, deciding to put it down instead of harming himself.

Benny barked once he noticed his owner was awake, excited by the fact. He stood up quickly, though minding (y/n)'s legs as he did so, before he rested his head on the boy's lap.

(y/n) looked down at his orange converse hi-tops, for a moment relieved that everything that happened in his memories was just a very vivid nightmares, and he, Benny, his mothers and Pankaj were all on vacation in America, in a big house, for some odd reason.

Until he noticed the shoe box laying beside his chair, with a post-it note hanging on top of it. He took a few moments to read the letters past his dyslexic eyes, but he soon deciphered the words: Found on top of Half-Blood Hill, might be yours. Grover Underwood, the Satyr.

(y/n) gulped down as he linked the dots... On top of a hill was where he killed Pankaj for the second time, and apparently the person who gave him the lost thing was a Satyr, a myth from the old Greek days-he knew that much, at least.

Despite having cold, hard evidence, he decided to look inside the box before jumping to conclusions.

Within the container laid a cut off curved horn, with yellow scales still on the base, and the tip dripping a sizzling liquid that he couldn't do much besides guess was venom. It hadn't been a nightmare after all.