Rewriting to improve writing.
"Gods are born out of the need of humans but they shall die at the hands of the ones they've wronged."
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The world of demigods has never been a safe one, plagued by monsters, the wrath of gods, and the impending d...
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How many strikes does it take to kill a God, is it more than what's needed to kill a child they cursed?
༺♥༻ Song- born to die- Lana Del ray
*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿
Y/n's POV-
We entered the museum, retrieved the cloak, and walked out. The end.
Hahahaha. Just kidding. We're demigods; we've got to have the craziest of plots, or the universe would hate us. It does, but you get what I'm saying. We're the biggest joke for the gods above, so much so that I'm genuinely convinced there's a camera filming us from every corner. I imagine the gods sitting in their throne room in Olympus, watching us on a gigantic screen and laughing like we're on some badly written sitcom. A bunch of traumatized kids save the gods' asses!
You see, I wouldn't have been going crazy if I hadn't realized how much I hated crowds. People were already swarming us in freaking New York City, but it felt even worse when I started to see glimpses of monsters circling the museum. No wonder, given the artifacts and exhibitions present in the museum. I was surprised I didn't see any ghosts, especially when we had crossed the street to look for a place to kill time, given we were supposed to look for the banner at night. Why, you ask? Asael was sure the killer would have someone roaming in the museum to keep an eye on us. At night, the place would be empty.
Nighttime in the museum-Hollywood has taught me enough to know where that would lead to.
In the end, we (Annabeth and Declan, no one dared speak over them) decided to spend the time near the museum but not near enough to let anyone watching over us realize we were close by. A restaurant. It was a family restaurant from the looks of it, really selling the entire 'family trip' part in my opinion. Though it did make me question one thing: if someone asked Declan how he had kids of different ethnicities, would he just declare himself a manwhore? The thought was funny to me.
While the others spoke in low voices, I fought Asael for the seat beside the window so I could look out, all because I didn't want to look at the people in the restaurant. The food I had ordered sat in front of me as I looked at everyone on the streets. Tourists, locals. People with children, without children. Young couples in love, old couples in understanding... It was surreal. I was no poet, but it felt like a cruel joke. People got to enjoy their time here, while we had to fight to survive.
"Y/n?" I looked at Maliah sitting beside me and blinked, reaching out and wiping a bit of the red sauce off the side of her mouth. A small bright blush rose up her cheeks immediately, making me smile.
"Yeah?" I asked, resting my cheek at the back of her hand as I turned my attention to her.
"Are you not gonna eat?" she asked politely, and I immediately pushed my plate of pasta toward her. Her eyes lit up as she joined her hands and gave me a big hug before digging into my food.
