The Grace Curse

Chapter Seven

BLAKE AND I SPENT THE REMAINING DAY INSIDE OF THE BUNKER. There was a small TV that Blake found and turned on a rerun of Season One of The Immortal Soul. I glanced at the TV and saw some introduction to the show. There was a picture of a weird looking red eye, it seemed to peer into my soul in a way I couldn't comprehend.

I let out a groan. "Can you lower that?" I tried tuning it out by putting my head on the bed and meditating. My anxiety was not quelled, and for good reason. It probably wasn't very difficult for Apollo to just flash into the bunker and snatch me up like a worm, but then again; I tried to push out all negative thoughts. However, I was beginning to feel utterly helpless. My mother was not here to comfort me, Grayson was not here to make me laugh; heck I would have even preferred Elise be here with her vulgar comments than be alone...with just Blake. I was no means ungrateful for my friend's presence, but how much could he really do? I decided to clear my mind by approaching Grayson's shelf and scanning its contents. On the top shelf, I salvaged a copy of the Odyssey and carefully picked it up. Blake took no notice of my action as he watched some demonic creature murder someone. I had to laugh mid thought.

"Blake, doesn't your Grandma watch this with you?"

He shook his head while still watching. "Nah, she's into watching reality talk shows," I slapped my forehead. How could I forget? Elise was always watching them and agreeing with everything they said. I gasped as I accidently dropped the Odyssey and noticed a thin sheet of white paper fall out. I hesitantly picked it up and flipped it over:

Dear Chase,

When you read this letter, it will already be too late. Your mother would not want me to say this but I have no other choice. If you are not already aware, Apollo the Greek God of the Sun is going to kidnap you. I'll just assume the worst and say he almost already has, you must listen carefully for your safety, your life depends on the spear—

The rest of the letter was in Norwegian as I began to translate it aloud. I glanced at Blake who was too into the show and tapped his shoulder. "Hey Blake...can you look at this?"

He turned around and took the sheet of paper, his eyes scanned its contents. "I didn't know you understood Norwegian," He stopped. "You're Norse? I thought you were a Greek Demigod?"

"Do I look Greek?" I muttered. "Grayson made me learn Norwegian and Swedish when I was five, Greeks aren't pale blonds,"

"Maybe that's why you're all crackpots,"

I punched his arm hard and sneered. "Not funny,"

He rubbed his arm in pain. "Sorry, I was just trying to help you chill, I do think it's strange how you look very Nordic if you are a son of Zeus,"

I frowned. "Maybe I'm not his son then..."

Blake turned. "Can we watch The Office now?"

I rolled my eyes and ignored him. "What do you think that was all about?" I asked. "It's kind of weird for him to write a letter specifically addressed to me,"

Blake laughed. "Now I see where you get it from,"

I frowned. "As if your Grandmother is any better,"

He threw his hands up. "True, true, here take this back," As he went to hand it back to me a slip of folded up paper fell to the floor. I eyed him coldly. "What is that?"

He shrugged. "Open it, I don't know,"

I bent down to the ground and picked up the crumpled piece of paper, the beige coloring on it made it look slightly old. However, by the look of it, it appeared to be only a month or two old. I unwrinkled the paper and opened it gently: