Sweet Poison

000. Prologue

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Prologue
⋆⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ "Child of the Prophecy."

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Perched on the edge of his bed, Alex absorbed the rhythmic melody of raindrops, a spectator to Zeus's handiwork. It had been ages since a storm of this magnitude: mostly likely the Gods arguing again.

Despite a nagging sense of unease, he brushed aside the feeling. Probably just another stupid argument with his stupid brothers, mused the dark-haired teen.

Unlike his siblings, Alex bore a pale complexion that stood in stark contrast to his dark chestnut hair and perfectly matched eyes. An outsider in the Apollo cabin, he defied expectations by not resembling Apollo's son but rather echoed the appearance of a child of Hades. Yet, he was grateful for not bearing any resemblance to his father.

The teen harbored an intense disdain for his father in every conceivable way. All the accomplishments that once defined his life had crumbled since his arrival here. Having just been claimed by a father oblivious to the essence of his existence, the boy couldn't help but rethink the same question, everyday: was he expected to find happiness in the ruins of his life that his own father destroyed?

The boy pondered, What a dick

As the tempest raged outside, a searing agony tore through his skull, matching the storm's fierceness. His body spasmed, each nerve ignited with the persistent torment he'd felt all day. It left him weakened, as if his core was melting under the unrelenting pain. The overwhelming frailty was a hated presence, something Alexander despised to his core.

The relentless agony persists, stabbing at him while he cradles his head in his hands, biting down on his lip until it bleeds, suppressing the urge to cry out. With the escalating pain, tears well up in his eyes.

As lightning struck, illuminating his surroundings with a brilliant light, his vision distorted into an unrecognisable scene through a car window. A creature materialized-bearing the head of a bull atop a man's body. His perception involuntarily shifted, as if peering through someone else's eyes. In this strange image, a dark boy with small goat horns watched the Minotaur, his face etched with undeniable panic.

Grover.

His sight normalized just as the Minotaur was on the verge of ramming them off the road.

What the hell was that? How did he just do that? As the pain subsided, bewilderment took its place, leaving his mind swirling with questions. He contemplated the recent events while his chest rose and fell gradually, breaths slowing in sync.

Realization washes over Alex. Grover was supposed to be accompanying the new demigod. But they weren't meant to be coming until the next morning? This told him something was wrong, and if Alex's assumptions were accurate, it meant the monsters had started their onslaught.

Without hesitation, Alex grabs his blade and glances at the bow he had rejected, hanging temporarily above his bed. He leaps out of bed, making his way to the cabin door, leaving the other Apollo kids undisturbed in their sleep.

Sprinting across the camp, Alexander reached the border tree, ensuring not to attract any attention. Should he have told someone? Dismissing the thought with a shake of his head, he knew they'd only call him crazy. He decided to figure it all out later; witnessing such things in this unfamiliar world wasn't a good omen. But for now, his priority was to assist Grover.

Approaching the border, he noticed a distant flicker of a small fire, likely ignited by the car. The Minotaur's grunts echoed in the air. Please, just hold on for a few more minutes, he pleaded in his thoughts, hastening down the slope.