Luke Is Still a Prick

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Character Information:
(Y/N): Your Name
(L/N): Last Name
(H/C): Hair Color
(E/C): Eye Color
(H/L): Hair Length
(S/C): Skin Color
(F/C): Favorite Color
(F/F): Favorite Food
(F/D): Favorite Drink

Percy's POV

Both (Y/N) and Annabeth volunteered to go alone since they could turn invisible, but I convinced them it was too dangerous. Either we all went together, or nobody went.

"Nobody!" Tyson voted. "Please?"

But in the end he came along, nervously chewing on his huge fingernails. We stopped at our cabin long enough to gather our stuff. We figured whatever happened, we would not be staying another night aboard the zombie cruise ship, even if they did have million-dollar bingo.

I made sure Riptide was in my pocket and the vitamins and thermos from Hermes were at the top of my bag. I didn't want Tyson to carry everything, but he insisted, and Annabeth told me not to worry about it. Tyson could carry four full duffel bags over his shoulder as easily as I could carry a backpack.

We snuck through the corridors, following the ship's YOU ARE HERE signs toward the admiralty suite. (Y/N) scouted ahead invisibly. We hid whenever someone passed by, but most of the people we saw were just glassy-eyed zombie passengers.

As we came up the stairs to deck thirteen where the admiralty suite was supposed to be, (Y/N) hissed, "Hide!" and shoved us into a supply closet.

I heard a couple of guys coming down the hall.

"You see that Aethiopian drakon in the cargo hold?" one of them said.

The other laughed. "Yeah, it's awesome."

Annabeth squeezed my arm hard. I got a feeling I should know that second guy's voice.

"I hear they got two more coming," the familiar voice said. "They keep arriving at this rate, oh, man—no contest!"

The voices faded down the corridor.

"That was Chris Rodriguez!" (Y/N) dispersed the mist around his body, revealing himself. "He was from Cabin Eleven..."

I sort of recalled Chris from the summer before. He was like (Y/N), an undetermined camper who got stuck in the Hermes cabin because his Olympian dad or mom never claimed him. Now that I thought about it, I realized I hadn't seen Chris at camp this summer. "What's another half-blood doing here?"

Annabeth shook her head, clearly troubled.

"I have a feeling Luke's been recruiting," (Y/N) muttered. "Just great."

We kept going down the corridor. I didn't need maps anymore to know I was getting close to Luke. I sensed something cold and unpleasant—the presence of evil.

"Guys." Annabeth stopped suddenly. "Look."

She stood in front of a glass wall looking down into the multistory canyon that ran through the middle of the ship. At the bottom was the Promenade—a mall full of shops—but that's not what had caught Annabeth's attention.

A group of monsters had assembled in front of the candy store: a dozen Laistrygonian giants like the ones who'd attacked me with dodge balls, two hellhounds, and a few even stranger creatures—humanoid females with twin serpent tails instead of legs.

"Scythian dracaenae," Annabeth whispered. "Dragon women."

The monsters made a semicircle around a young guy in Greek armor who was hacking on a straw dummy. A lump formed in my throat when I realized the dummy was wearing an orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt. As we watched, the guy in armor stabbed the dummy through its belly and ripped upward. Straw flew everywhere. The monsters cheered and howled.

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