The Shadows Of Camp Half-Blood

A Rift in The Shadows

The shadows of Camp Half-Blood

Continuation....
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The cool night air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, the quiet broken only by the occasional snap of a twig underfoot. Emris stood in the center of the clearing, her eyes closed as she focused. The world around her fell silent, her pulse quickening as she prepared to channel the magic that pulsed in her veins. It wasn't an easy task-teleporting, especially with others, required precision, and Emris's magic had always been unpredictable.

Her mother, Hecate, had passed down many gifts to Emris, but teleportation had always been one of the trickiest to master. It wasn't just the distance-it was the people she was carrying with her. They would feel the disorientation, the pulse of power that came with the shift in space. But with them at her side, she could finally open the door to her destination, to whatever came next.

"I'll get us to the next place," Emris said, her voice steady, though there was a hint of strain beneath her words. "Just trust me."

Percy, Annabeth, Grover, and Luke all exchanged looks, but their trust in her was clear. They had fought alongside her, supported her, and now they would follow her into whatever came next.

"We're ready," Annabeth said, her voice filled with quiet determination.

With a deep breath, Emris raised her hands, tracing the air with her fingers. The faintest shimmer of light danced between her hands as she began to focus. The magic hummed through her body, pulling at her senses, and the air around them grew thick, charged with energy.

For a moment, everything seemed to stand still. Then, just as Emris was about to complete the spell, the ground beneath their feet trembled, the magic around them flickering as a strange, sinister presence descended on the clearing.

Before Emris could react, a shadow emerged from the trees, tall figures stepping out into the clearing, their eyes gleaming with cold intent. They were vampires-not like her father, not like Klaus. These were different-more savage, more relentless.

"Not so fast," a low, malevolent voice rang out from the darkness. The leader of the vampires stepped into the moonlight, his eyes a piercing red, his fangs bared in a smile that sent chills down Emris's spine.

Emris froze, her heart pounding in her chest. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice steady but her magic beginning to writhe in discomfort. These vampires felt... wrong.

The vampire leader chuckled darkly, the sound echoing unnervingly in the silent night. "What we want, little witch, is simple. You."

Emris's eyes narrowed. "I'm not your prisoner."

"Oh, no," the vampire said, his grin widening. "Not yet. But you will be. You see, we have a little deal with someone very... important. Your father, Klaus Mikaelson. We want something from him. And you, my dear, are the key."

The words hit Emris like a punch to the gut. Klaus? What could they possibly want with him? She had barely even begun to piece together the tangled web of her family's past, and now these vampires were dragging her father into it.

"Leave her alone," Luke said, stepping forward, his hand instinctively going to his sword. "You'll have to go through us first."

Annabeth and Percy stood close behind him, ready for a fight. Grover, though nervous, braced himself. They had faced monsters, gods, and titans before, but there was something different about these vampires. Something... ancient.

The vampire leader's eyes flicked over to them with disdain. "You really think you can stop us?" he sneered. "This isn't about you, demigod. This is about her. We're here to take her back. If we don't, Klaus won't cooperate with our little arrangement."