The Sun Without Stars Solangelo

The Combatants

Nico's POV

Nico flinched and jumped up, searching for where the sound had come from. When he heard the familiar clash of swords, he mentally slapped himself.

Capture the flag.

Nico was cornered between the incoming ballistic warriors and the water, his blade still in his cabin. The best he could do was stay in place and hope that no one came near. He couldn't shadow travel as he was, the sun bright and his energy depleted. Plus, he wasn't willing to risk hurting any nearby combatants.

He was relieved when the uproar oriented itself south of him. He placed his hands in his pockets and sat back down, a bit chilled even with his hoodie on. Capture the flag was a war of attrition, which meant that they'd soon deplete their forces at the front lines, so he would most likely be in the clear.

SNAP!

Just his luck, a group of two Ares kids (because he was just that fortunate) found their way to his sleeping spot. They wore large, clanky gear, but were able to support the heavy material well with their muscular stature.

"Di Angelo?! I knew it'd be you those bitches would set up to stop us," the tallest one proclaimed, his face sharp and his nose crooked as if it had been broken at some point. Nico wanted to refute, but they were already getting on his nerves. It took a second, but he recognized him as Owen, a seventeen-year-old he'd seen near Clarisse a few times prior.

"They're going to kick your asses, so show some respect," Nico snarled. The one next to the ringleader who was grotesque as well chuckled at that, his blade hanging at his side glimmering in the sunbeams.

"You know what? Why don't you join the hunters? You'd fit right in now that the Apollo kid left you," Owen taunted, his teeth sharp and viscous when he grinned.

Aren't you hungry?

Have another taste.

Why don't you?

Salivate.

"Shut up!" Nico yelled at the cacodemons around his neck. The Ares kids no longer searched Nico's surroundings for the flag. Instead, their heads snapped towards him, prowling eyes laying on Nico.

Nico stepped back, a couple skeletons raising themselves from the dirt, but the second who was shorter but burlier swung his club, crushing them.

"Stay back!" Nico warned.

"Got any more tricks up your sleeve? Guess you aren't as scary as the rumors make you seem. Hey Cameron, look at him shake, he's probably pissing himself."

Consume them.

Nico continued to track backwards, hoping that Reyna might rescue him soon.

Please. I need you.

"Grab him," the ring leader ordered to the one named Cameron. There was no point disputing. While there were rules against maiming or killing, the Ares kids weren't particularly worried about losing their dessert privileges for a couple months.

Nico pivoted on his heel, getting ready to sprint, but the second Ares kid was more nimble than he'd imagined despite his short legs, grasping his arm, the rest of the stitches on his shoulder snapping. An animalistic howl escaped Nico's throat.

"Bet Dad would get a kick out of us beating a child of the big three." Owen urged Nico, his head lowering to where he stood, revealing the dip of his crooked nose, "Come on. It's no fun if you don't put up a fight," nudging Nico slightly with his shoe.

"Stay the fuck back if you value your life," Nico growled, his lip curled up. 

When they didn't withdraw, Nico paled, driving the darkness away from his sight as well as he could, drooping in the second one's grip like a puppet. Without his sword, he reacted in the only way he could think of: his teeth clamped down on his captor's muscular arm, causing Cameron to shriek, waving his arm madly and shoving Nico's body to the floor with a thud.

Owen reached for Cameron's club, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips drawing into a frown.

"NO!" Nico yelled, out of more concern for them than himself.

The strike hit Nico in the ribs, pain exploding through his chest as he struggled to breathe. Nico coughed and heaved, but found himself choking as Owen's hyena-like laughter surrounded him. Before the second strike could make it towards him, the night enveloped his sight.

Nico felt the threads available, but he couldn't control them as they raced towards him, entering his body at a rate he knew would be deadly. His body convulsed, but he had never felt so wonderful. Never indulged in something so savory.

His brain grew muddled and everything in him wanted more.  He could have been imagining it, but he tasted blood in his mouth, metallic in taste, and he reached forward for the the warm being in front of him, his nails digging into it. 

If there were screams, they were drowned out by the pounding in his veins.

More.

He didn't draw back. Instead, he drew closer, embracing the murk that surrounded him. When the intake thinned and he found himself unable to soak in any more, his vision shifted, the threads disappearing from sight as quickly as they had formed.

What he came to see was harrowing.