The Demigod Games (PJO/THG)

18 - Poor Pete

- Frank

Hazel and I casually walked through the small village, trying to look normal, not knowing exactly where we were going. Our plan initially was to look for a town hall, tourist office, anything that could possibly help us figure out where we were... and how to get home. 

"Maybe we should ask the people," I whispered to Hazel. "I don't know..." she responded in a tense voice. "We don't know this country. These people could have courtesy rules or something... like, maybe they'd get really offended if we looked at them in the eye, or maybe we have to spin twice and touch our nose before talking to someone, or-"

"Shh." I put a finger on her lips, chuckling. "Don't get your knickers in a twist!" - which earned me a scoff - "Everything's going to be fine. And, besides, do we really have a choice?" Hazel sighed. "Fine."

We approached a young woman - maybe in her twenties - wearing a bright floral dress, full of red roses and tulips, its pure joy contrasting heavily with the woman's utterly depressed expression.
She seemed deep in thought, as she almost jumped when we approached her.

"Excuse me, would you happen to know where we are?" I asked politely. She frowned. "On Mars of course. What do you think?" She scoffed, and walked away, muttering something like 'youngsters these days...'
I turned towards Hazel, who was wearing the same startled expression as me. "So... Mars?" I grinned. She shook her head, suppressing a smile. "Idiot."
  We walked further in the city, asking directions for a tourist center to anyone we walked by. They unanimously had almost the exact same response: a frown, then a sort of disgusted expression and a scoff. Then they walked away.
Judging by how warm and welcoming people were here, I guessed we must have been in Russia...

We continued walking, the streets becoming narrower and narrower as we made our way deeper into the city.
As we penetrated into a deserted street too narrow for a car to fit through, the air seemed to get heavier, and the wind whooshing through the streets brought up an eerie atmosphere. If anything, we seemed to be going further and further away from the big avenues and squares where we'd have the highest chance of finding an official building.
Hazel seemed to have the same idea as me, and started saying, "Frank, maybe we should turn ba-"

I felt a whoosh of air behind me, the familiar clump of a metal object hitting a surface, then the sickening crunch of fractured bones.

I turned to see Hazel's startled expression as she crumpled to the ground.
After that, everything happened so quickly I barely had time to register a few details. The vision of Hazel on the floor, unconscious, blood gushing from the back of her head. My eyes slowly rising to see the baseball bat a hooded figure clutched in his right hand. The aggressor bringing the bat in a swinging position, getting ready for the second shot - this time aimed at me.
I ducked, barely avoiding the bat as it swung above my head. Blinded by rage, I rolled on the ground and rose back up right behind him, looping my arm across his neck and squeezing, but not quite enough for him to pass out.
"What do you want?" I yelled.
I didn't have the time to register his response, as he yanked himself away from my grasp and turned to face me. A bright gleam coming from his pocket caught my attention- the familiar glint of metal.
A knife.

He advanced menacingly towards me, waving his knife in front of him. But something about his posture seemed off. The way his legs wavered uncertainly, knees almost buckling, the way he held his knife - not at all the firm grip of someone having the habit of holding a weapon in hand, but more like the weak clutch of an inexperienced fighter.
But what really gave it off was when he commanded, "Give me your money." The way his voice wavered when he spoke those words - he was trying to be menacing, but his phrase sounded more like a pitiful plead.
The person I had in front of me was all but a killer. I was facing a poor, lone, desperate boy whose lack of guidance had unwillingly led him to the world of crime - who, probably pressured by his friends, had been forced to take the wrong path. He was no threat, and the situation was so unrealistic that I couldn't help it.
I burst out laughing.

"That- that..." I tried to say, choking on my words. "That was supposed to be intimidating?" I wheezed, bent over. At that moment, the expression I saw on his face was priceless. "What's so funny? I said, Give me your money." - which would've been more credible if his voice hadn't risen an octave. 

"Oh, god." I gasped, catching my breath. "So, you're not a killer. Just a... street thief? The kind that steals from grandma's purses?" I wiped tears from my eyes. "Hey!" He exclaimed in a weak voice. "I'm not - I don't-" The look of despair on his face brought up a wave of pity in me. "Looks like you picked on the wrong guys, um- hey, what's your name?" I asked. "Peet- I have no name." He responded, on the verge of a breakdown. "Ok then, Pete. We'll let you go this time. But if we see each other again, I won't be as lenient." Pete seemed to be about to snap off his fear and start waving his knife at me again, so, to convince him, I tried a trick I had recently learned on my last mission against Gaia, and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, they weren't reflecting their usual brown irises - instead, twin red flames, pure and menacing, danced in my eyes. It was just an illusion, to scare off enemies - Hazel called it the Ares Look, nickname I hated (then again, I hated everything related to my father, so...)

Anyways, upon glancing at my eyes, Pete's jaw literally dropped, and he abandoned all desire to try and defy me, rushing away and screeching like a 6-year old. A wave of relief crushed over me - because even though I hadn't let it reflect, I was more uncertain than ever that I could actually win this fight; if we really were in an alternate dimension, no one could tell if my powers would suddenly shut off, or if they had mutated or something and, when I would try to summon my super-strength, I would transform into a blobfish-

Oh, you don't know what a blobfish is? You should probably look it up. It really helped me when I was trying to vomit out poison an Amphisbaena had infected me with when it bit me. I just really couldn't make myself vomit, no matter how hard I tried, and then an image of two blobfish breeding and it just came out so easily-

What? Oh, right. I'm getting off-topic. 

So, after scaring off the unintimidating thief with the even more unintimidating name a.n. sorry for all Petes out there love you all ;), I rushed over to Hazel's limp body and carefully lifted her head, ripping my shirt off and bandaging her head - and, by the way, it's a pity no one was watching because I swear I must have looked so stunningly attrac-

Sorry.

I carefully wrapped my improvised plaster around her wound in an attempt to stop the commotion, then kissed her head and picked her up. Where to now? I had to find some kind of hospital - they had to have one here, right? Looking back onto it, we must have looked pitiful - a bruised, shirtless 16-year-old, his unconscious girlfriend in his arms. But I knew we were going to find a way - I mean, we were fricking Frank Zhang and Hazel Levesque. We always found a way.

Sighing, I started walking north.

A.N. Finally, a new chapter! With the confinement going on, I'll be somewhat more active on Wattpad, even though I do have a lot of schoolwork, but hey, I said we'll finish this story, and we freaking will ;)

See ya around!