Prolouge

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Percy Jackson's Point of View:

"Well, Perseus, after 87 days, you've given us nothing. I think that little camp of yours will love finding your lifeless body at their border," The man laughed.

After 87 days of torture, I guess I'm going to die. No one found me. No one looked. It wasn't hard to find me. I recognized that I was in Central Park right after I was captured. The man, who I still didn't know the name of, came towards my bloodied body. I strained my neck to look up at him. I was going to die an honorable death, my sea green eyes looking into his cold black ones.

"Go ahead. Kill me." I croaked, my throat parched from the little liquid he's given me.

The man laughs again and pulls out a knife, "I will enjoy this. Goodbye, Perseus."

His knife cuts across my throat agonizingly slow. The skin ripping as the knife dug deeper. My throat constricted, trying to get a last breath in. The edges of my vision going black as he drug the knife across. The black dots started getting larger, until my last sight was a bright flash of white before the black dot filled my vision completely.



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