Atalanta Jackson.

"Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood." My brother started.

"But do you think we have a choice in life? Take you're pick on what the answer is, dear reader." I finished.

Being a half-blood is terrifying. It gets you gone before you even think about the future you're gonna live because there probably won't be one.

"Our Mum, is she really . . .?"

If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it ain't real. Lucky you. Read on. And leave the rest of us to be traumatized.

"He was kind, Percy and Anne." She said. "Tall, handsome and powerful. But gentle too. You have his balck hair, y'know, but you were the only one who got his green eyes, Percy."

But if you recognise yourself in these pages.

"Where are we going?"

If you feel something stirring inside.

"Percy!"

Stop. Reading. NOW.

"A pose?" Annabeth asked warily.

"A photograph. I will use it to model a new statute set. Children are so popular, you see. Everyone loves children.

"Some in an odd way . . ." I said.

You might be one of us, kid. And once you know that . . .

. . . It's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come after you.

My hands trembled at the king of the underworlds demand. "Spongebob, open the bloody backpack before I do."

Don't say we didn't worn you.

I watched as he slung it off his shoulder and unzipped it. Inside was a sixty-cenimetre-long metal cylinder, spiked on both ends, humming with energy.

"You drool when you sleep."