charm(less)

ūnus

—— ū n u s ——

CENTRAL PARK WAS buzzing with life on a warm summers day. The long stretches of grass were packed with families enjoying picnics in the lazy sun, and teenagers relishing the newfound freedom after being let off school for vacation. For all intents and purposes, it should have been perfect. With the birds trilling in the trees, and fat bees lingering over flowers bursting with pollen, there was no reason not to be happy.

Park was not happy. He rarely was these days, but he had a reason this time. He'd spent the entire day attempting to shake a group of Empousa off his trail, but these particular monsters were particularly persistent. He didn't know whether it was simply because he was male, their ideal candidate for blood sucking, or because of his unusually strong aura.

Knowing his luck, it was probably both. 

He ducked behind a wide tree and cursed under his breath. How had he let them chase him out into the park, which was so heavily populated? He needed somewhere he could face them off without putting any civilians in harms way and Central Park was probably the worst spot he could have chosen. Monsters usually ignored mortals, keen on ripping about demigods, but they wouldn't go out of their way to avoid collateral damage.

He could feel the feel cool touch of the medallion around his neck, tucked under his shirt. He knew it better than the back of his hand, every indented detail and curved edge of the stamped piece of iron. Instinctively, he tugged it out and ran light fingers over the smooth metal. He could have reverted it right now, seeing as the Mist would mask it from mortal eyes, but it would only draw unwanted attention to him. Especially from the Empousai.

He was content with just admiring it to comfort himself, a reminder that he wasn't entirely alone. It wasn't particularly large, just a rectangle of Stygian iron about half the size of his palm, with Latin inscribed around the edges. The image of a robed figure was stamped in the centre, arms out on either side. There was a tiny skull hovering about the left hand and a coin above the right.

Hades, his mother had told him. It represents the two spheres over which he has influence: death and riches.

Park thought they were pretty handy things to have influence over, although the link between them was lost on him. He knew Greek Mythology was an extensive topic full of culture and people, but his mother had focused on teaching him only what he needed to know. What he needed to survive. He knew of every monster that had ever roamed the earth, and of all the gods who could father or mother demigods.

And most importantly, he knew a wide variety of weapons and materials they were fashioned from, along with how to wield the majority of them.

A screeching wail drew him from his wistful thoughts. Park felt the hair stand on the back of his neck as the screeching resolved into words: "Oh, demigod! Demigoood! Come out and play!"

Park peered around the trunk and his heart dropped when he saw five of them, gathered in the centre of the clearing. They were bizarre-looking things that Park used to call donkey hybrids when he was a kid; balancing on one shaggy animal leg and one golden leg, they all had flaming curls of hair and fiery eyes. Park knew when they bared their teeth, the tips would be needle sharp for breaking skin.

Somehow, the mortals didn't react. Park had no clue what they saw through the Mist but it certainly wasn't what he did. They did seem to sense something was off, because the couple sitting on a nearby bench kept shooting them furtive looks and two toddlers playing nearby burst into tears. "We only want your sweet, sweet blood," the empousai at the front called, who Park had figured was the leader. "But if you don't come out - maybe we'll play with some of these mortals?"