<div class="header">
<div id="header-text" data-passage="header-text"></div>
<div id="function-menu">
<span id="menu" class="lnr lnr-menu"></span>
<span id="settings" class="lnr lnr-cog"></span>
<span id="saves" class="lnr lnr-download"></span>
<span id="restart" class="lnr lnr-redo"></span>
</div>
</div>
<div id="story">
<span id="back" class="lnr lnr-chevron-left"></span>
<div id="passages"></div>
</div>
<div class="footer">
<span id="up" class="lnr lnr-chevron-up"></span>
<span id="footer-menu" data-passage="footer-menu"></span>
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<span id="mob-menu" class="lnr lnr-menu"></span>
<div id="mob-function-menu">
<span id="mob-settings" class="lnr lnr-cog"></span>
<span id="mob-saves" class="lnr lnr-download"></span>
<span id="mob-restart" class="lnr lnr-redo"></span>
</div>
<span id="mob-footer-menu" data-passage="footer-menu"></span>
</div>
</div><span class="title">The Lightning Thief</span>
<span class="author">by <a href="https://whatlovelybones-if.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Axel</a> & <a href="https://albywritesfiction.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Alby</a></span><<nobr>>
<li>[[Demigod Diary]]</li>
<li><<link "Credits">><<script>>
Dialog.setup("Credits");
Dialog.wiki(Story.get("credits").processText());
Dialog.open();
<</script>><</link>></li>
<</nobr>>/* define your story variables here */
/* Initial RO Names */
<<set $A to "A";
$A_child to "child";
$A_hisher to "their">>
<<set $M to "M";
$M_child to "child">>
<<set $V to "V";
$V_nn to "V";
$V_child to "child">>
/* Initial Stats Values */
<<set $calm to 50; $hyper to 50;
$introverted to 50; $extroverted to 50;
$cheerful to 50; $aggressive to 50;
$disciplined to 50; $mischievous to 50;
$strategic to 50; $intuitive to 50>>
/* Initial Romance Values */
<<set $A_romance to 0;
$M_romance to 0;
$V_romance to 0>>
/* Initial Customization */
<<set $firstname to "Unknown";
$nickname to "Unknown";
$surname to "Unknown";
$godlyparent to "Unknown";
$pronouns to "Unknown";
$gender to "Unknown";
$hairtexture to "Unknown";
$haircolor to "Unknown";
$eyecolor to "Unknown";
$skincolor to "Unknown";
$hairlength to "Unknown";
$hairstyle to "Unknown";
$height to "Unknown">>
/*Stats Codes*/
/*[$cheerful to $cheerful+2, $aggressive to $aggressive-2]
[$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2]
[$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2]
[$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2]
[$introverted to $introverted+2, $extroverted to $extroverted-2]
[$extroverted to $extroverted+2, $introverted to $introverted-2]
[$disciplined to $disciplined+2, $mischievous to $mischievous-2]
[$mischievous to $mischievous+2, $disciplined to $disciplined-2]
[$strategic to $strategic+2, $intuitive to $intuitive-2]
[$intuitive to $intuitive+2, $strategic to $strategic-2]*//* custom widgets go in here */
<<widget "are">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>are<<case false>>is<</switch>><</widget>>
<<widget "were">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>were<<case false>>was<</switch>><</widget>>
<<widget "s">><<switch $plural>><<case true>><<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>>
<<widget "es">><<switch $plural>><<case true>><<case false>>es<</switch>><</widget>>
<<widget "ies">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>y<<case false>>ies<</switch>><</widget>>
<<widget "re">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>re<<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>>
<<widget "ve">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>ve<<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>>[[Sugarcube 2 Documentation|https://www.motoslave.net/sugarcube/2/docs]]
[[OpenDyslexic Font by Abbie Gonzalez|https://opendyslexic.org]]
[[Notify Macro & Message Macro by Chapel|https://github.com/ChapelR/custom-macros-for-sugarcube-2]]
[[Live Update Macro by Cycy|https://github.com/cyrusfirheir/cycy-wrote-custom-macros]]
[[Hovertip Macro by HiEv|https://bit.ly/TwineSampleCode]]
[[Twine/Sugarcube 2 Template by Ash (a.w. morgan)|https://awmorgan.itch.io/twine-sugarcube-template]]
[[Twine Template II by Vahnya|https://vahnya.itch.io/twine-template-ii]]
[[Title Page Template by Manon (manonamora)|https://manonamora.itch.io/twine-sugarcube-templates]]
[[When Twilight Strikes by Kristi (evertides)|https://evertides.itch.io/when-twilight-strikes]]<div class="wrapper2"><div class="items2">
<p id="text">THE</p><p id="shadow"><span id="glow">THE</span></p>
<p id="text">LIGHTNING</p><p id="shadow"><span id="glow">LIGHTNING</span></p>
<p id="text">THIEF</p><p id="shadow"><span id="glow">THIEF</span></p>
</div></div>
<div class="wrapper"><div class="items">
<a class="link link3"><<link "START GAME" "Intro">><</link>></a>
<a class="link link3"><<link "LOAD GAME">><<script>>UI.saves();<</script>><</link>></a>
<a class="link link3"><<link "SETTINGS">><<script>>UI.settings();<</script>><</link>></a>
</div></div>/*[[Intro]]*/<div id="centered"><div class="content-warning"><em>A precarious position for a human to be in. Gods might enjoy mortal skill in hunting or music or weaving, but they were always alert to hubris— and woe betide a human whose skills came close to those of the divine. Something that immortals could not tolerate was to be inferior to anyone in any respect.</em>
Jennifer Saint, __Ariadne__</div>
<div class="content-warning"></div>
''<h1>__An Interactive Fanfiction__</h1>
<h2>HALF HUMAN. HALF GOD. ALL HERO.</h2>''</div>
Being a half-blood is definitely not a walk in the park. You’d know, you are one yourself. And it’s something you wish wasn’t true.
You might not have had the most pleasant life, but at least it had some degree of normalcy. Usually struggling with school and life to some extent, you were blissfully ignorant about your dyslexia and ADHD actually being signs of something much . . . grander. When the discovery of you being a demigod—a half-human, half-god—comes to light, your whole world gets turned upside down.
Accompanied by your old friends and some new companions, you have to embark on a quest to prevent a catastrophic war among the gods of Mount Olympus. Zeus's lightning bolt has been stolen, and all fingers point to you as the prime suspect. To clear your name, you must navigate a treacherous path filled with mythological monsters, gods with indescribable tempers, and ancient prophecies that foretell a devastating fate.
From escaping Medusa’s gaze in a creepy emporium to escaping the clutches of battle-hungry demigods in a ‘lighthearted’ game of Capture the Flag, it is only going to get more complicated for you from now on.
<div id="centered">Grab your weapon, half-blood, and try not to die this summer.</div>
<div class="content-warning"></div>
Author’s Note: This fanfiction is a work in progress and will periodically update with new chapters. Learn more about this on its itch.io page for the latest developments. Also I am not getting any penny (see what I did there?) out of this so no one sue me, okay? Okay. Read it like any other fanfiction on Wattpad, except this being actually interactive with no Y/N feature. This goes without saying but the main characters, including the PC, are 14-16 so don’t be a bunch of weird creeps, capiche?
!!!This game is rated 14+ for slight graphic contents. These include scenes of bloodshed, violence and mild body horror.
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "ROs Intro">><</button>></span>/*[[ROs Intro]]*/You were not a troubled kid—at least not on purpose. You tried hard in school, even though your dyslexia and ADHD diagnoses made things significantly difficult; you tried to stay out of people’s hair as much as you could, even though only a handful gave you the same courtesy; you tried not to complain about your life, even though it kicked you down and made everything pretty miserable.
With all that aside, will people believe that you were actually as normal as they come? You doubt it. Especially after this particular field trip. The field trip where your high school’s freshman class went to Manhattan—twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at Ancient Greek and Roman stuff.
Squished into a dinky school bus seat of Lincoln Charter Academy with your only two friends wasn’t exactly your idea of a good time, but as you rode nearer to the museum, you tried to be slightly optimistic about the day ahead. Mr. Brunner, your Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so it made things a tad bit easier.
You had hopes that the trip would be okay. At least, you hoped that for once you wouldn’t get in trouble.
Boy, were you wrong.
See, bad things happened to you on field trips.
*[[At your eighth-grade school, when your class visited the Lincoln Centre Theatre, you had accidentally stepped on a live wire . . .|Ch 1.02][$godlyparent to "Zeus";$sword to "gold"]]
*[[At your eighth-grade school, when your class took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool . . .|Ch 1.02][$godlyparent to "Poseidon";$sword to "bronze"]]
*[[At your eighth-grade school, when your class had organized a neighborhood-wide Halloween party for the students and staff . . .|Ch 1.02][$godlyparent to "Hades";$sword to "iron"]]<<if $godlyparent is "Zeus">>It was a miracle you weren’t barbequed by the high voltage as the whole theatre experienced a blackout. You weren’t aiming to do that, but of course you got expelled anyway.<<elseif $godlyparent is "Poseidon">>You had sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and your class took an unplanned swim. That was the last thing you had in mind, but they expelled you anyway.<<elseif $godlyparent is "Hades">>The last thing your teacher had uttered before fainting was an ear-piercing shrill after seeing your exhibit. You tried to explain that the skeleton was made out of newspaper and clay, but they expelled you anyway.<</if>>
And at your seventh-grade school, when you went to the World Trade Center, you had this accident with a bully who was saying he’d push you off a flight of stairs. You weren’t aiming to push him over the memorial, but your teachers were not in the mood to listen even if he was relatively unharmed. And the time before that . . . Well, you get the idea.
This trip, you were determined to be good. The number of expulsion notices on your reports was reaching a staggering amount.
It was late May, and while it wasn’t as warm as most people would have liked, they considered it better than the harsh winter they had left behind. Despite the freakishly unpredictable weather that had plagued most of the East Coast for the last few months, nature had managed to fight back. Flowers nurtured by April showers were in bloom in every apartment garden and courtyard you passed, the colors a welcome sight in the otherwise wet, dreary city.
The school bus was loud with chatter and obnoxious laughter. Projectiles of all kinds—broken pieces of pencils, crumbled balls of papers, bits of food, someone’s retainer—were flying around. Luckily for you, the bus seats were high enough to stay out of the way of your rowdy classmates’ aerial battles.
Lincoln Charter Academy was a private school for troubled kids, full of rich brats who managed to get out of going to juvie by enrolling at Lincoln Charter instead. You spent most of your childhood going to boarding schools, but the kids at Lincoln Charter were five times worse than any of your elementary school bullies.
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 1.03">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 1.03]]*/<<if $mischievous is 55 or $aggressive is 55>>“Would you quit that shit?” you snapped at Nancy, irritated by the constant bullying of your friend.
“It’s okay,” Grover tried to calm you down. “I like peanut butter.”<<else>>You gritted your teeth and tried to help him get it out of his hair.
“It’s okay,” Grover tried to calm you down, sensing your irritation. “I like peanut butter.”<</if>>
“In your hair?” $A questioned skeptically.
“It’s kind of like a hair mask, isn’t it?”
$A raised an eyebrow as Grover dodged another piece of Nancy’s lunch. Either she was eager to provoke you, or she simply didn’t like being ignored by you three.
“Okay, that’s it,” you huffed as you began standing up, $A right behind you with $A_hisher brow furrowed in a similar annoyance as yours. Before you two could embark on your mission to teach Nancy Bobofit a lesson, Grover pulled you both down with his lanky arms.
“You’re already on probation,” he reminded you two. “You know who’ll get blamed if anything happens.”
$A groaned and you rolled your eyes. The principal had threatened you two with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip. It was clear that your accidental shenanigans had made its way to her ears and the only way to stay in school was by not acting out in any way.
Looking back on it, you wish you’d decked Nancy Bobofit right then and there. In-school suspension would’ve been nothing compared to the mess you were about to get yourself into.
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 1.05">><</button>></span>/*[[Next|Ch 1.05]]*/Mr. Brunner—the only teacher at Lincoln Charter that didn’t treat you like a ticking time bomb, and therefore, your favorite—led you lot along the tour.
Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair, with thinning hair and a scruffy beard. His frayed tweed jacket always smelled like coffee, and there was usually a hint of a smile on his face. He’d always remind you of what you imagined the perfect dad to be like—someone smart enough to help with homework but stern enough to not just give you all the answers; someone who’d make you hot chocolate if you were having a bad day. You wouldn’t think he’d be cool at first glance, but he told stories in a way that made you feel like you were in them, wielding Achilles’s spear in battle or playing the lyre as Orpheus and leading Eurydice out of the Underworld. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn’t put you to sleep completely.
As the Latin teacher led the way through the museum, you couldn’t help but be awed by all the things in there. $A was right beside you, gawking at everything and trying to wrap $A_hisher head around the fact that some of the artifacts had survived thousands of years, and they were just there, still somewhat recognizable after a couple millennia of existence.
You gave the fragile pottery and marble statues a wide berth, pulling $A along with you as $A_heshe lets out a small huff of protest. $A_HeShe could be a little clumsy, and the last thing you wanted was for $A_himher to somehow ruin a priceless work of ancient art and add to Miss Moreau’s credit card debt.
$A didn’t miss in giving you $A_hisher signature pout which only came on display in front of you, Grover and his aunt. “You need to have more faith in me . . .”
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Firstname">><</button>></span>/*[[Firstname]]*/What’s your first name?
<<textbox "$firstname" "">> <<link "Set">>
<<set $firstname to $firstname.trim()>>
<<set $firstname to $firstname.toUpperFirst()>>
<<if $firstname == "">>
<<replace "#input-error">>Enter a name.<</replace>>
<<else>>
<<goto "Surname">>
<</if>>
<</link>>
@@#input-error;@@
<<message 'List of traditionally masculine names.'>>\
• [[Alejandro|Surname][$firstname = "Alejandro"]]
• [[Dominic|Surname][$firstname = "Dominic"]]
• [[Evan|Surname][$firstname = "Evan"]]
• [[Felix|Surname][$firstname = "Felix"]]
• [[Gideon|Surname][$firstname = "Gideon"]]
• [[Issac|Surname][$firstname = "Issac"]]
• [[Jason|Surname][$firstname = "Jason"]]
• [[Lorenzo|Surname][$firstname = "Lorenzo"]]
• [[Lucas|Surname][$firstname = "Lucas"]]
• [[Haider|Surname][$firstname = "Haider"]]
• [[Nathan|Surname][$firstname = "Nathan"]]
• [[Tetsuo|Surname][$firstname = "Tetsuo"]]
• [[Warren|Surname][$firstname = "Warren"]]
<</message>>
<<message 'List of traditionally feminine names.'>>\
• [[Astoria|Surname][$firstname = "Astoria"]]
• [[Aaliyah|Surname][$firstname = "Aaliyah"]]
• [[Eleanor|Surname][$firstname = "Eleanor"]]
• [[Fleur|Surname][$firstname = "Fleur"]]
• [[Grace|Surname][$firstname = "Grace"]]
• [[Haniya|Surname][$firstname = "Haniya"]]
• [[Leah|Surname][$firstname = "Leah"]]
• [[Madeline|Surname][$firstname = "Madeline"]]
• [[Natalia|Surname][$firstname = "Natalia"]]
• [[Odessa|Surname][$firstname = "Odessa"]]
• [[Riya|Surname][$firstname = "Riya"]]
• [[Sylvia|Surname][$firstname = "Sylvia"]]
• [[Veronica|Surname][$firstname = "Veronica"]]
<</message>>
<<message 'List of traditionally gender-neutral names.'>>\
• [[Akira|Surname][$firstname = "Akira"]]
• [[Blake|Surname][$firstname = "Blake"]]
• [[Cameron|Surname][$firstname = "Cameron"]]
• [[Devon|Surname][$firstname = "Devon"]]
• [[Hayden|Surname][$firstname = "Hayden"]]
• [[Julien|Surname][$firstname = "Julien"]]
• [[Kieran|Surname][$firstname = "Kieran"]]
• [[Logan|Surname][$firstname = "Logan"]]
• [[Morgan|Surname][$firstname = "Morgan"]]
• [[Orion|Surname][$firstname = "Orion"]]
• [[Rowan|Surname][$firstname = "Rowan"]]
• [[Taylor|Surname][$firstname = "Taylor"]]
• [[Zion|Surname][$firstname = "Zion"]]
<</message>>What’s your surname?
<<textbox "$surname" "">> <<link "Set">>
<<set $surname to $surname.trim()>>
<<set $surname to $surname.toUpperFirst()>>
<<if $surname == "">>
<<replace "#input-error">>Enter a name.<</replace>>
<<else>>
<<goto "Nickname">>
<</if>>
<</link>>
@@#input-error;@@
<<message 'List of surnames.'>>\
• [[Agarwal|Nickname][$surname = "Agarwal"]]
• [[Broussard|Nickname][$surname = "Broussard"]]
• [[de Ruiter|Nickname][$surname = "de Ruiter"]]
• [[Florenzi|Nickname][$surname = "Florenzi"]]
• [[Galinsky|Nickname][$surname = "Galinsky"]]
• [[Jäger|Nickname][$surname = "Jäger"]]
• [[Lazareva|Nickname][$surname = "Lazareva"]]
• [[Murakami|Nickname][$surname = "Murakami"]]
• [[Nikopoulos|Nickname][$surname = "Nikopoulos"]]
• [[Reynaud|Nickname][$surname = "Reynaud"]]
• [[Sørensen|Nickname][$surname = "Sørensen"]]
• [[Trieu|Nickname][$surname = "Trieu"]]
• [[Vasileiou|Nickname][$surname = "Vasileiou"]]
• [[van der Heuvel|Nickname][$surname = "van der Heuvel"]]
• [[Volkov|Nickname][$surname = "Volkov"]]
• [[Zhou|Nickname][$surname = "Zhou"]]
<</message>><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>><<set $chapter to "CHAPTER 1">><div class="chapter-number"><span>$chapter</span></div>
<<set $chaptertitle = "⚡️ HOW TO SURVIVE A FIELD TRIP 101 ⚡️">><div class="chapter-title"><span>$chaptertitle</span></div>
<center><div class="content-warning"><span><b>CONTENT WARNINGS:</b> violence, mentions of death & murder</span></div></center>\
<<nobr>><div class="choicetable">
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 1.01">><</button>></span>
</div><</nobr>>/*[[Ch 1.01]]*/<h3>Before you begin your journey, please customize the following gender-selectable characters according to your preferences.</h3>
<div id="centered"><<liveblock>><h1>$A Moreau</h1><h2>$A_child of Hephaestus</h2><</liveblock>>
<<nobr>>
<div class="choice"><<link "Male">>
<<set $A to "Adrién";
$A_middle to "Basile";
$A_gender to "Male";
$A_MrMiss to "Mr.";
$A_child to "son";
$A_person to "boy";
$A_guy to "guy";
$A_man to "man";
$A_nephew to "nephew";
$A_HeShe to "He";
$A_heshe to "he";
$A_HimHer to "Him";
$A_himher to "him";
$A_HisHer to "His";
$A_hisher to "his";
$A_HisHers to "His";
$A_hishers to "his";
$A_Himself to "Himself";
$A_himself to "himself">>
<<update>><</link>></div>
<div class="choice"><<link "Female">>
<<set $A to "Adèle";
$A_middle to "Blanche";
$A_gender to "Female";
$A_MrMiss to "Miss";
$A_child to "daughter";
$A_person to "girl";
$A_guy to "girl";
$A_man to "lady";
$A_nephew to "niece";
$A_HeShe to "She";
$A_heshe to "she";
$A_HimHer to "Her";
$A_himher to "her";
$A_HisHer to "Her";
$A_hisher to "her";
$A_HisHers to "Hers";
$A_hishers to "hers";
$A_Himself to "Herself";
$A_himself to "herself">>
<<update>><</link>></div><</nobr>>
<<liveblock>><h1>$M Newton</h1><h2>$M_child of Athena</h2><</liveblock>>
<<nobr>><div class="choice"><<link "Male">>
<<set $M to "Marshall";
$M_gender to "Male";
$M_MrMiss to "Mr.";
$M_child to "son";
$M_person to "boy";
$M_guy to "guy";
$M_HeShe to "He";
$M_heshe to "he";
$M_HimHer to "Him";
$M_himher to "him";
$M_HisHer to "His";
$M_hisher to "his";
$M_HisHers to "His";
$M_hishers to "his";
$M_Himself to "Himself";
$M_himself to "himself">>
<<update>><</link>></div>
<div class="choice"><<link "Female">>
<<set $M to "Marcelle";
$M_gender to "Female";
$M_MrMiss to "Miss";
$M_child to "daughter";
$M_person to "girl";
$M_guy to "girl";
$M_HeShe to "She";
$M_heshe to "she";
$M_HimHer to "Her";
$M_himher to "her";
$M_HisHer to "Her";
$M_hisher to "her";
$M_HisHers to "Hers";
$M_hishers to "hers";
$M_Himself to "Herself";
$M_himself to "herself">>
<<update>><</link>></div><</nobr>>
<<liveblock>><h1>$V Valentine</h1><h2>$V_child of Aphrodite</h2><</liveblock>>
<<nobr>><div class="choice"><<link "Male">>
<<set $V to "Vincenzo";
$V_nn to "Vinny";
$V_gender to "Male";
$V_MrMiss to "Mr.";
$V_Prince to "Prince";
$V_child to "son";
$V_person to "boy";
$V_guy to "guy";
$V_HeShe to "He";
$V_heshe to "he";
$V_HimHer to "Him";
$V_himher to "him";
$V_HisHer to "His";
$V_hisher to "his";
$V_HisHers to "His";
$V_hishers to "his";
$V_Himself to "Himself";
$V_himself to "himself">>
<<update>><</link>></div>
<div class="choice"><<link "Female">>
<<set $V to "Veronica";
$V_nn to "Neeks";
$V_gender to "Female";
$V_MrMiss to "Miss";
$V_Prince to "Princess";
$V_child to "daughter";
$V_person to "girl";
$V_guy to "girl";
$V_HeShe to "She";
$V_heshe to "she";
$V_HimHer to "Her";
$V_himher to "her";
$V_HisHer to "Her";
$V_hisher to "her";
$V_HisHers to "Hers";
$V_hishers to "hers";
$V_Himself to "Herself";
$V_himself to "herself">>
<<update>><</link>></div><</nobr>>
<h3>
Once you are satisfied with your selection, you may begin your journey by clicking the button below.
Good luck, half-blood.</h3>
</div><span class="next"><<button "Begin" "Ch 1.00">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 1.00]]*/<div id="centered"><h1>Demigod Diary</h1>
<h2>PORTFOLIO</h2>
<h3>Name</h3><<if $nickname isnot $firstname>>$firstname “$nickname” $surname<<else>>$firstname $surname<</if>>
<h3>Gender</h3>$gender
<h3>Pronouns</h3>$pronouns
<h3>Godly Parent</h3>$godlyparent
<h3>Skin Color</h3>$skincolor
<h3>Eye Color</h3>$eyecolor
<h3>Hair Texture</h3>$hairtexture
<h3>Hair Color</h3>$haircolor
<h3>Hair Length</h3>$hairlength
<h3>Hair Style</h3>$hairstyle
<h3>Height</h3>$height
<h2>STATS</h2>
<h3>Personality</h3>
<div class="stat-bar-group">
<div class="stat-bar-container">
<div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Calm $calm%</div>
<div class="stat-bar-overlay-right">Hyper $hyper%</div>
<div class="stat-bar"><progress @value="$calm" max="100"></progress></div>
<div class="stat-bar" id="calmhyper-stat"></div>
</div></div>
<<nobr>>
<<if $calm is $hyper>>You currently lean neither towards being __hyper__ or __calm__.
<<elseif $calm gt $hyper>>You are more __calm__ than __hyper__.
<<else>>You are more __hyper__ than __calm__.
<</if>><</nobr>>
<div class="stat-bar-group">
<div class="stat-bar-container">
<div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Introverted $introverted%</div>
<div class="stat-bar-overlay-right">Extroverted $extroverted%</div>
<div class="stat-bar"><progress @value="$introverted" max="100"></progress></div>
<div class="stat-bar" id="introextro-stat"></div>
</div></div>
<<nobr>><<if $introverted is $extroverted>>You currently lean neither towards being __introverted__ or __extroverted__.
<<elseif $introverted gt $extroverted>>You are more __introverted__ than __extroverted__.
<<else>>You are more __extroverted__ than __introverted__.
<</if>><</nobr>>
<div class="stat-bar-group">
<div class="stat-bar-container">
<div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Cheerful $cheerful%</div>
<div class="stat-bar-overlay-right">Aggressive $aggressive%</div>
<div class="stat-bar"><progress @value="$cheerful" max="100"></progress></div>
<div class="stat-bar" id="cheeragg-stat"></div>
</div></div>
<<nobr>><<if $cheerful is $aggressive>>You currently lean neither towards being __cheerful__ or __aggressive__.
<<elseif $cheerful gt $aggressive>>You are more __cheerful__ than __aggressive__.
<<else>>You are more __aggressive__ than __cheerful__.
<</if>><</nobr>>
<div class="stat-bar-group">
<div class="stat-bar-container">
<div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Disciplined $disciplined%</div>
<div class="stat-bar-overlay-right">Mischievous $mischievous%</div>
<div class="stat-bar"><progress @value="$disciplined" max="100"></progress></div>
<div class="stat-bar" id="dismis-stat"></div>
</div></div>
<<nobr>><<if $disciplined is $mischievous>>You currently lean neither towards being __disciplined__ or __mischievous__.
<<elseif $disciplined gt $mischievous>>You are more __disciplined__ than __mischievous__.
<<else>>You are more __mischievous__ than __disciplined__.
<</if>><</nobr>>
<h3>Combat</h3>
<div class="stat-bar-group">
<div class="stat-bar-container">
<div class="stat-bar-overlay-left">Strategic $strategic%</div>
<div class="stat-bar-overlay-right">Intuitive $intuitive%</div>
<div class="stat-bar"><progress @value="$strategic" max="100"></progress></div>
<div class="stat-bar" id="stratintuit-stat"></div>
</div></div>
<<nobr>><<if $strategic is $intuitive>>You currently lean neither towards being __strategic__ or __intuitive__.
<<elseif $strategic gt $intuitive>>You are more __strategic__ than __intuitive__.
<<else>>You are more __intuitive__ than __strategic__.
<</if>><</nobr>>
<h2>RELATIONSHIPS</h2>
<h3>$A Moreau</h3><<nobr>>
<<if $A_romance gt 0>>
There are words $A_heshe'd rather not say.
<<else>>
$A considers you $A_hisher closest friend.
<</if>><</nobr>>
<h3>$M Newton</h3><<nobr>>
<<if hasVisited("Ch 5.00")>>
You barely know $M_himher and $M_heshe already dislikes you.
<<else>>
You haven't met this character yet.
<</if>><</nobr>>
<h3>$V Valentine</h3><<nobr>>
<<if hasVisited("Ch 5.00")>>
This $V_guy is complicated with a capital C.
<<else>>
You haven't met this character yet.
<</if>><</nobr>>
</div>
<span class="next"><<button "Return" $return>><</button>></span>Do you have a nickname? If no, enter your name instead.
<<textbox "$nickname" "">> <<link "Set">>
<<set $nickname to $nickname.trim()>>
<<set $nickname to $nickname.toUpperFirst()>>
<<if $nickname == "">>
<<replace "#input-error">>Enter a name.<</replace>>
<<else>>
<<goto "Gender Pronouns">>
<</if>>
<</link>>
@@#input-error;@@
/*[[Gender Pronouns]]*/Your pronouns are <<cycle "$pronouns" autoselect>>
<<option "he/him">>
<<option "she/her">>
<<option "they/them">><</cycle>> and you identify as <<cycle "$gender" autoselect>>
<<option "male">>
<<option "female">>
<<option "nonbinary">><</cycle>>.
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 1.06">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 1.06]]*/<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>><<nobr>><<if $pronouns is "he/him">>
<<set $HeShe to "He", $heshe to "he", $HimHer to "Him", $himher to "him", $HisHer to "His", $hisher to "his", $HisHers to "His", $hishers to "his", $Himself to "Himself", $himself to "himself", $kid to "boy", $plural to false>>
<<elseif $pronouns is "she/her">>
<<set $HeShe to "She", $heshe to "she", $HimHer to "Her", $himher to "her", $HisHer to "Her", $hisher to "her", $HisHers to "Hers", $hishers to "hers", $Himself to "Herself", $himself to "herself", $kid to "girl", $plural to false>>
<<else>>
<<set $HeShe to "They", $heshe to "they", $HimHer to "Them", $himher to "them", $HisHer to "Their", $hisher to "their", $HisHers to "Theirs", $hishers to "theirs", $Himself to "Themself", $himself to "themself", $kid to "kid", $plural to true>>
<</if>><</nobr>>“. . . $nickname!”
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, dragging $A_himher to the rest of the group. “That look doesn’t work on me, $A_MrMiss Moreau. Not since you somehow ended up breaking my iPad.”
“W-well!” $A_heshe blustered, tip of $A_hisher ears turning red with an odd sense of embarrassment. “You know I was just trying to fix it!”
You laughed, finding $A_hisher state a little endearing. “I know, and I forgave you for it. The folks here definitely will not.”
$A sighed in resignation and allowed $A_himself to be dragged along in your hurry to join the rest of your classmates.
Mr. Brunner had gathered the class around a four-meter-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling you how it was a grave marker, a //stele//, for a girl about your age. He told the class about the carvings on the sides.
<<if $calm gt $hyper or $introverted gt $extroverted or $cheerful gt $aggressive or $disciplined gt $mischievous>>You were trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around you was talking their mouth off; gossiping about random topics that weren’t related to anything here or complaining about how their feet hurt. Every time $A told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would glare at $A_himher like $A_heshe was a yappy chihuahua that wouldn’t stop barking.<<else>>You were trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around you was talking their mouth off; gossiping about random topics that weren’t related to anything here or complaining about how their feet hurt. Every time you told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give you the nastiest stink eye she could muster.<</if>>
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 1.07">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 1.07]]*/Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into a classroom full of students. She had come to Lincoln Charter halfway through the year, when your last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.
From her very first day, Mrs. Dodds had decided Nancy Bobofit was the second coming of Christ, meanwhile you and $A were the spawns of Satan. If there was something to blame on you two, she’d find a way, even if you were all the way across campus from whatever trouble she pinned on you. She would point her crooked finger at you and say, “Now, honey,” real sweet, and you’d know you were going to get after-school detention for a month.
One time, after she’d made you scrub the toilet clean after someone’s explosive diarrhea session, you told Grover that you didn’t think Mrs. Dodds was even human. He had looked at you, real serious with wide eyes, and said, “You’re absolutely right.”
Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art. Behind you and your friends, Nancy Bobofit said something snarky about the naked guy on the <em>stele</em>. This was apparently the last straw for $A as $A_heshe turned around and snapped, “Will you <em>shut up</em>?!”
You tried not to feel the secondhand embarrassment creeping in as $A_hisher voice was loud enough to echo through the hall. The whole class burst out into laughter and Mr. Brunner stopped his story.
“$A_MrMiss Moreau,” he said, “did you have a comment?”
$A’s face flushed red. “No, sir.”
“$A_HeShe wasn’t directing that comment towards you, sir,” you tried to defend your friend. You saw $A shaking $A_hisher head subtly from the corner of your eye and chose to ignore $A_himher. You can’t forget the number of times $A and Grover bailed you out from getting into serious trouble throughout the school year so far.
“It’s an admirable trait to stand up for your friends, <<cycle "$MrMiss" autoselect>>
<<option "Mr.">>
<<option "Miss">>
<<option "Mx.">><</cycle>> $surname,” Mr. Brunner’s warm brown eyes twinkle with an emotion close to pride. “Will you, perhaps, save $A_MrMiss Moreau from further scrutiny and tell us what this picture represents?”
*[[The smile you managed to send him was as nervous as they come.|Ch 1.08][$cheerful to $cheerful+5, $aggressive to $aggressive-5]]
*[[You were seriously regretting even opening your mouth.|Ch 1.08][$introverted to $introverted+5, $extroverted to $extroverted-5]]
*[[You stood up straighter and focused on remembering the answer.|Ch 1.08][$disciplined to $disciplined+5, $mischievous to $mischievous-5]]
*<<link "$A owed you $A_hisher lunch for a whole week." "Ch 1.08">><<set $mischievous to $mischievous+5; $disciplined to $disciplined-5>><</link>>You looked at the carving and felt a flush of relief when you realized that you actually recognized it. “That’s Kronos eating his kids, right?”
“Yes,” Mr. Brunner said, clearly not satisfied with your answer. “And he did this because . . . ?”
“Well . . .” you took a moment to answer, trying to rack your brain into giving you more information. “Kronos was king of the gods . . . Shoot, I mean the Titans, and . . . he didn’t trust his kids? //They// were the gods. So he ate them one by one as they were born. But his wife, Rhea, hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—”
“Ew, yuck!” Someone exclaimed from the back, immediately shutting up at the glare $A threw at them.
“—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans,” you continued, ignoring the interruption, “and the gods won. The end.”
Behind you, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend. “This is such a bummer of a lesson. We won’t even be using all this bullshit in real life.”
“Very nearly adequate, $MrMiss $surname, slang for regurgitation notwithstanding.” Mr. Brunner said with a small smile. “And how, to paraphrase Miss Bobofit’s excellent question, will we be using this ‘bummer of a lesson’ in real life?”
“Busted,” Grover muttered.
“Shut up,” Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair.
At least Nancy picked on, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He must’ve eaten a lot of carrots since he had pretty solid hearing.
You thought about the question for a while, and aside from inducing a mild headache, there wasn’t any appropriate answer you could think of for that.
You shrugged. “I don’t know, sir.”
“I see.” Mr. Brunner looked disappointed. “Well, half credit, $MrMiss $surname. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan’s stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, perhaps a little nourishment may be necessary now to get the brain working again. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?”
The class drifted off; the girls continuing to gossip and holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like complete idiots.
$A and Grover followed you, the former giving you a thankful look. “I would’ve messed up the answer for sure. Thanks for bailing me out there, $nickname.”
“No worries,” you waved $A_himher off. “What are friends for, right?”
Grover gave you a big smile and $A’s eyes sparkled with genuine gratitude, $A_hisher usual hotheadedness a mere shadow in the past when $A_heshe was around you two.
Before your trio could go outside the museum, however, Mr. Brunner’s voice carried out from behind you. “$MrMiss $surname, I’ll have a word with you alone, please.”
You should’ve known that was coming. You turned around and saw his gaze linger slightly on $A before settling on you.
“Go on,” you told your friends, “I’ll meet you outside.”
$A looked like $A_heshe might protest but $A_heshe chose not to after seeing your insistent look. With that, you turned around and walked up to your Latin teacher.
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 1.09">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 1.09]]*/“Sir?”
Mr. Brunner fixed his intense brown gaze on you, rooting you in your place. He had this look of perpetual tiredness and a deep lingering sadness like he had seen everything the world had to offer for thousands of years.
“You must learn the answer to my question,” Mr. Brunner told you.
“About the Titans?”
“About real life. And how your studies apply to it.”
“Oh.”
“What you learn from me,” he continued, “is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. The same goes for your friend, $A_MrMiss Moreau. I will accept only the best from you, $firstname $surname.”
You wanted to get angry, this guy pushed you so hard.
You knew everyone had their limits, and you must be approaching yours soon because Mr. Brunner was the only teacher who pushed you so hard. Sure, it might’ve been because he was the only one who seemed to have a lot of faith in your ‘hidden’ capabilities but it still sucked a lot. And even if you did have some sort of hidden potential, you’ve already lived through fifteen years without tapping into any of that.
Mr. Brunner expected you to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that you had dyslexia and ADHD and had never made above a C+ in your life. No—he didn’t expect you to be as good, he expected you to be better. And you just couldn’t learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly. There was no ‘untapped potential’, you were just nothing extraordinary.
You mumbled something about trying harder the next time while Mr. Brunner took one long sad look at the <em>stele</em>, like he’d been at this girl’s funeral. It was a little off-putting but you decided to just leave him to his brooding.
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 1.10">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 1.10]]*/The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where they could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.
By the time you had joined $A and Grover outside for lunch, the latter was already munching on the former’s pack of celery. $A wasn’t a big fan of them and $A_heshe was two bites into $A_hisher classic BLT sandwich.
Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than you’d ever seen over the city. $A told you maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. There had been massive snow storms, earthquakes, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. You wouldn’t have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.
Nobody else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket something from a lady’s purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn’t seeing a thing.
You sat down next to your two friends on the edge of the fountain that they’d claimed, away from other rowdy kids. There were a few workers milling about, trying to get some big lighting equipment working with wires strewn all over the place. The size of the contraption also provided some shade from the noon sun.
Looking into the fountain, you saw your reflection staring back. Your <<cycle "$hairtexture" autoselect>>
<<option "straight">>
<<option "wavy">>
<<option "curly">>
<<option "coily">>
<<option "frizzly">><</cycle>> <<cycle "$haircolor" autoselect>>
<<option "raven black">>
<<option "jet black">>
<<option "light brown">>
<<option "dark brown">>
<<option "light blonde">>
<<option "dark blonde">>
<<option "platinum">>
<<option "auburn">>
<<option "dark red">>
<<option "light red">><</cycle>> hair was slightly messy from the wind and your <<cycle "$eyecolor" autoselect>>
<<option "electric blue">>
<<option "sea green">>
<<option "stormy grey">>
<<option "golden amber">>
<<option "swirling hazel">>
<<option "russet brown">>
<<option "obsidian black">><</cycle>> eyes held a pensive look from the recent conversation you had with Mr. Brunner. You sighed and ran a <<cycle "$skincolor" autoselect>>
<<option "pale">>
<<option "ivory">>
<<option "tanned">>
<<option "olive">>
<<option "beige">>
<<option "brown">>
<<option "deep brown">><</cycle>>-toned hand over your hair, which was styled <<cycle "$hairlength" autoselect>>
<<option "short">>
<<option "chin-length">>
<<option "shoulder-length">>
<<option "up to your chest">>
<<option "up to your waist">><</cycle>> <<cycle "$hairstyle" autoselect>>
<<option "freely">>
<<option "in a ponytail">>
<<option "in a bun">>
<<option "in a half bun">>
<<option "in a braid">>
<<option "in a bandana">><</cycle>>.
“Detention?” $A asked, offering you a Chicken Cordon Bleu sandwich.
“Nah,” you answered, taking a bite out of it. “Not from Brunner. I just wish he’d lay off me sometimes. I mean, I’m not a genius by any stretch. He just pushes me too hard.”
“Tell me about it,” $A_heshe groans. “He gave me a B- because I got confused between Chiron and Charon. They look the same! You’d think having dyslexia would have teachers give you a break, but apparently that’s not a thing here.”
“That’s loads better than what I got on Math last week. I have no idea how you managed to get an A- on that.”
$A hummed in agreement, smirking in faux arrogance. “Clearly, I’m the intellectual between the three of us.”
“Hey!” Grover protested in between scarfing down an apple from your lunch pack. “Didn’t you get a D on our last English essay?”
“‘The Old Man and the Sea’ sucks major ass, bro,” $A grumbled. “If I wanted a Jesus metaphor, I’ll watch the Narnia series instead.”
“You only like Narnia because you think the guy who plays Edmund is cute,” you teased $A_himher, causing $A_himher to roll his eyes and hit you with a retort.
*[['“That’s rich coming from someone who had the biggest crush on Prince Caspian!”'|Ch 1.11][$attraction to "men"]]
*[['“Don’t think I forgot about you having the biggest crush on Susan!”'|Ch 1.11][$attraction to "women"]]
*[[“Look who's talking! Didn’t you have a crush on both Prince Caspian and Susan?”|Ch 1.11][$attraction to "men and women"]]<<if $attraction is "men">>You gawped at $A_himher in surprise. “Take a look at Ben Barnes and tell me it’s possible to not find him god-sent from every angle!”<<elseif $attraction is "women">>You crossed your arms with a huff. “You expected Anna Popplewell to pop on my screen and not be mesmerized immediately?”<<elseif $attraction is "men and women">>“Ben Barnes and Anna Popplewell,” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up for emphasis, “I was panicking, okay? Seeing them together altered my brain chemistry.”<</if>>
$A rolled $A_hisher eyes but didn't challenge you any further.
Your banter was quickly forgotten, however, because Nancy Bobofit decided to ruin your lunch and dump her food on Grover’s lap.
“Oops,” she grinned at you with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were concerningly orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos. “By the way, nice going there dyslexiac.”
“It’s dyslexic,” $A snarled at her while helping you wipe the food off of Grover’s clothes. “Maybe you’re not too far off from the diagnosis yourself with your inability to spell basic stuff.”
“Oh, feisty, are we?” Nancy responded sarcastically. “Feeling proud that you and $surname are already halfway through being retarded? You two losers are only here as a part of some ‘special needs’ charity cases.”
“I don’t know about everyone,” you spoke up after you helped Grover get the worst of the stains out, “but I’d rather be a ‘special needs’ charity case than a chronic shoplifter. Doesn’t your daddy own a private hospital in Rhode Island?”
“I steal things because I like to do so,” she huffed out a laugh before sneering at you. “Do you and Moreau <em>like</em> being retarded?”
<<if $aggressive gte 55 or $mischievous gte 55 or $extroverted gte 55>>“Get lost, Bobofit,” you managed out through gritted teeth.
You tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told you a million times, “Count to ten, get control of your temper.”<<else>>“Fuck off, Bobofit,” $A barked, standing up now. “Take your minions with you too.”
“Or what? Is the orphaned mutt going to bite me?” She leered.<</if>>
<<if $godlyparent is "Zeus">>There was no controlling it now though. Something cracked inside you. The wind roared in your ears like a terrible tornado.
You could vaguely make out Grover jumping off the edge of the fountain, grabbing $A on his way as the latter exclaimed, “What the fuck?!”
You don’t remember touching Nancy Bobofit, but the next thing you knew, she was sitting on her butt in the fountain with hair sticking out in all directions. She looked like she had just gone through major shock therapy as she screamed, “$firstname tripped me!”
Mrs. Dodds materialized next to you, as if magically summoned by the stupid accusation.
Grover looked scared and nervous. $A just looked utterly confused and befuddled with what $A_heshe had just witnessed.
Some of the kids were whispering: “Did you see—”
“—the sparks from the wire—”
“—like they grabbed her—”<<elseif $godlyparent is "Poseidon">>That was it. Something cracked inside you. A wave roared in your ears like the start of an oceanic storm.
You could vaguely make out Grover jumping off the edge of the fountain, grabbing $A on his way as the latter exclaimed, “What the fuck?!”
You don’t remember touching Nancy Bobofit, but the next thing you knew, she was sitting on her butt in the fountain with hair soaked in water from head to toe. She looked like she had just been in the splash zone of the SeaWorld exhibits as she screamed, “$firstname pushed me!”
Mrs. Dodds materialized next to you, as if magically summoned by the stupid accusation.
Grover looked scared and nervous. $A just looked utterly confused and befuddled with what $A_heshe had just witnessed.
Some of the kids were whispering: “Did you see—”
“—the water from the fountain—”
“—like it grabbed her—”<<elseif $godlyparent is "Hades">>That was it. Something cracked inside you. Something roared in your ears like the starting tune of a funeral march.
You could vaguely make out Grover jumping off the edge of the fountain, grabbing $A on his way as the latter exclaimed, “What the fuck?!”
You don’t remember touching Nancy Bobofit, but the next thing you knew, she was sitting on her butt in the fountain with her eyes wide and face completely pale. She looked like she had just seen visions of her darkest nightmares as she screamed, “$firstname is scaring me!”
Mrs. Dodds materialized next to you, as if magically summoned by the stupid accusation.
Grover looked scared and nervous. $A just looked utterly confused and befuddled with what $A_heshe had just witnessed.
Some of the kids were whispering: “Did you see—”
“—the shadows from the shade—”
“—like they grabbed her—”<</if>>
You didn’t know what they were talking about. All you knew was that you were in trouble again.
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 1.12">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 1.12]]*/As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on you three. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if you’d done something she’d been waiting for all semester. “Now, honey—”
“I know,” you grumbled. “A month cleaning the washroom.”
That wasn’t the right thing to say, apparently.
“Come with me,” Mrs. Dodds said.
$A glared at you with a clear <em>‘You owe me big time’</em> look before saying, “It was me, Mrs. Dodds. <em>I</em> <<if $godlyparent is "Zeus">>tripped<<elseif $godlyparent is "Poseidon">>pushed<<else>>scared<</if>> Nancy.”
Mrs. Dodds squinted at $A_himher, as if trying to see through $A_hisher lie. $A was even worse than you when it came to being a model student, so you don’t understand what exactly was $A_heshe expecting. This fact was made even clearer by the fact that both of you were on probation together.
With no surprise to anyone, $A’s self-sacrifice backfired. “Both of you, follow me.”
“Wait!” Grover yelped. “It was me. <em>I</em> <<if $godlyparent is "Zeus">>tripped<<elseif $godlyparent is "Poseidon">>pushed<<else>>scared<</if>> Nancy!”
You were surprised. Grover was terrified of Mrs. Dodds—it genuinely meant a lot that he was trying to take the blame for you and $A.
Unfortunately, it only made her glare at him so hard that his whiskery chin trembled.
“I don’t think so, Mr. Underwood,” she leered nastily.
“But—”
“You. Will. Stay. Here.”
Grover looked at you two desperately.
You gave him a reassuring look. “It’s alright, man. Thanks for trying.”
“Honey,” Mrs. Dodds barked. “Now.”
Nancy Bobofit gave you a smirk before it slightly faltered against $A’s <em>‘You’re so dead’</em> glare.
You scowled at her in return before turning back toward Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn’t there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the stairs, gesturing impatiently at you two to hurry up.
<em>How’d she get there so fast?</em>
You hesitated a little. Something in the deep recesses if your brain was screaming at you that whatever was about to happen would be much worse than any regular detention you’d ever had in your life. Your school counsellor had told you that it was likely just anxiety which goes along terribly when paired with your ADHD. Right now? You weren’t too sure about that. Maybe you should’ve gotten medicated before coming to this trip.
<<liveblock>>*<<link "Your hand subconsciously held $A’s trying to quell the rising nervousness in your gut. $flirt_label" "Ch 1.13">><<set $A_romance to $A_romance+1>><</link>>
*<<link "You stepped closer to $A, finding slight comfort in $A_hisher warm presence and you two walk towards Mrs. Dodds. $flirt_label" "Ch 1.13">><<set $A_romance to $A_romance+1>><</link>>
*[[You shared a look of mutual anxiousness as you walked towards Mrs. Dodds at the same pace.|Ch 1.13]]<</liveblock>>Halfway up the steps, you glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale and shaking, cutting his eyes between you and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted the Latin teacher to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel.
The math teacher led you deeper into the museum, moving faster than you’d have thought humanly possible by a fifty-year-old. When you and $A had finally caught up to her, you were back in the Greek and Roman section. The gallery was empty except for you three.
Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble statue of the Greek gods. She was making weird noises in her throat, as if she was growling.
If the noise wasn’t enough to make you nervous, the intense feeling of discomfort came back again. You rarely ever had to meet a teacher alone outside school hours, being called to a secluded place when you were not even on school grounds was even weirder. Not to mention the nasty glare she was giving the paintings of the Greek gods, like she wanted to pulverize them right then and there.
“You’ve been giving us problems, honey,” she said, her narrowed gaze now trained on you.
You exchanged a glance with $A, who looked as confused as you felt.
Deciding to be smart about it, you tried to go along the lines of placating her. “Yes, ma’am.”
Mrs. Dodds tugged on the cuffs on her leather jacket. “Did you really think you’d get away with it?”
The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was like she was plotting your murder, <em>and</em> trying to make it as brutal and long as possible.
You inched closer to $A, watching the math teacher warily. You tried to convince herself Mrs. Dodds wouldn't actually hurt you—she was a teacher, after all. Teachers were supposed to be safe.
Then again, so were parents.
$A watched the math teacher warily and came forward to stand in front of you. $A_HisHer tall frame was above average for many high school freshmen.
*<<link "Unfortunately, as you were even taller than $A_himher, $A_heshe did not hide you from Mrs. Dodds’s line of sight at all. [Very tall = 6’0+]" "Ch 1.14">><<set $height to "very tall">><</link>>
*<<link "While you appreciated the effort, you two were around the same height and $A_heshe couldn’t hide you from Mrs. Dodds completely. [Tall = 5’9-6’0]" "Ch 1.14">><<set $height to "tall">><</link>>
*<<link "$A managed to somewhat hide you from Mrs. Dodds’s line of sight, though you could still feel her stare piercing through $A_himher. [Average = 5’5-5’8]" "Ch 1.14">><<set $height to "average">><</link>>
*<<link "$A_HisHer tall figure did a very good job in hiding you from Mrs. Dodds’s gaze. Although you figured she was not happy about that with her increased growling. [Short = 5’2-5’4]" "Ch 1.14">><<set $height to "short">><</link>>
*<<link "For better or for worse, $A’s frame completely towered over you to the point that you couldn’t even tell what was going on with the standoff between $A_himher and Mrs. Dodds. [Very short = 4’10-5’1]" "Ch 1.14">><<set $height to "very short">><</link>>/*[[Ch 1.14]]*/<<if $height is "very tall" or $height is "tall">>“Your effort is admirable, fire spawn,” Mrs. Dodds snarled. “Get out of my way and you will be spared this once.”<<else>>“You can’t hide $himher from me, fire spawn,” Mrs. Dodds snarled. “Step aside and I shall spare you this once.”<</if>>
“But why?” $A asked, frustrated anger creeping in $A_hisher voice, with a hint of fear. “Why do you want $himher so badly?”
“If it’s about the stash of candy we’ve been hiding out under our beds, we swear it’s just the leftovers from Halloween!” You stepped out of ‘hiding’ to try and placate her. It was a lie, sure, but you had a feeling that a bunch of Reese’s Pieces were not worth getting killed over. Or worse, <em>expelled</em>.
This was not what Mrs. Dodds was expecting to hear. Thunder shook the building and you saw $A’s hands shake with it.
“We are not fools, $firstname $surname,” the math teacher roared. “No one hides from us forever. Confess, and you will suffer less pain.”
You had no clue what she was talking about. After observing the same muddled look on $A’s face, you concluded that $A_heshe was as lost as you were.
“Well?” Mrs. Dodds demanded. “Which one of you stole it? It’ll be better if you just hand it to me right now.”
“Ma’am, I really don’t . . .” Your voice trailed off.
“Your time is up,” she hissed.
Then all hell broke loose. Her eyes started to glow like molten glass. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn’t human. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice you and $A into ribbons.
Then things somehow managed to get even stranger.
Mr. Brunner—who you were positively sure had been out in front of the museum a minute before—wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.
“<em>En garde</em>, $firstname!” he shouted, and tossed the pen in the air. “The pen is mightier than the sword!”
Mrs. Dodds lunged at you. You could hear $A scream in surprised terror before you managed to push $A_himher out of the way of the math-teacher-turned-monster’s talons.
*[[You then snatched the ballpoint pen out of the air, letting your inner instinct kick in.|Ch 1.15][$intuitive to $intuitive+10, $strategic to $strategic-10]]
*[[Your eyes then pointedly zeroed in on the pen, snatching it out of the air as it came within your reach.|Ch 1.15][$strategic to $strategic+10, $intuitive to $intuitive-10]]<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>><<if $intuitive gt $strategic>>Before you could process what you just ended up doing, the pen that you’d caught wasn’t even a pen anymore.<<else>>Before you could think of what to do with the pen, you looked down and realized that you weren’t even holding one.<</if>>
It was a sword—Mr. Brunner’s $sword sword, the one he always brought out on tournament days.
Mrs. Dodds spun towards you with a murderous look in her eyes, hissing at the newfound weapon in your hand. Your jaw was on the floor. Your knees felt like jelly. Your hands were shaking so bad you almost dropped the sword.
“Die, honey!” she snarled.
Then she flew straight at you and $A, who was still sprawled on the floor with petrifying fear in $A_hisher eyes.
In your panic to not be slashed to death with those wicked-looking claws, you did the only thing that came naturally: you swung the sword in a wild arc.
The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body as if she were made of water.
<em>Hisss!</em>
Mrs. Dodds was like baby powder against a strong gust of wind. She disintegrated into yellow powder, leaving behind only the lingering scent of sulfur, a fading screech, and an unsettling aura of malevolence in the air, as if a pair of fiery red eyes still observed you. Simultaneously, Mr. Brunner was nowhere to be found, as if he had never been there in the first place.
It was only you and $A, who was coughing as the smell settled, dusting the weird yellow powder off $A_hisher jacket. There was a ballpoint pen in your <<cycle "$hand" autoselect>>
<<option "left">>
<<option "right">><</cycle>> hand.
“What—?” $A_heshe began as he got up from the floor, brushing down $A_hisher jeans. “Man, someone definitely put some zaza in our lunch.”
“I’m not too sure about that,” you reply, $eyecolor eyes scanning the scene. “That felt way too real. Did you see—”
“Yeah I did. I saw it all,” $A mumbled beside you, nervousness radiating off of $A_himher like a heater on a hot day. “You saw her turn into that thing too, right? Just so we’re clear we’re not high at the same time.”
*[['“Those sharp claws were pretty hard to miss, broski.”'|Ch 1.16][$option to 1]]
*[['“I don’t think I want to think about that anymore.”'|Ch 1.16][$option to 2]]
*[['“I think I need to process all of that for 5-10 business days.”'|Ch 1.16][$option to 3]]
*[['“At least that proves the theory of Mrs. Dodds not being human.”'|Ch 1.16][$option to 4]]
*[['“So much for staying out of trouble, eh?”'|Ch 1.16][$option to 5]]<<if $option is 1>>$A sighed. “Is it really the time for sarcasm?”
“Coping mechanisms, Addy,” you said, trying to muster a smile. “Gotta find a way to not go crazy about what just happened.
$A_HeShe didn’t have a retort to that and wordlessly followed you outside.<<elseif $option is 2>>$A sighed. “Doesn’t change the fact that it happened.”
“Let’s just go outside,” you said, voice almost pleading. “I just want to go back to my dorm.”
Your friend’s eyes softened and $A_heshe wordlessly nodded, following you outside.<<elseif $option is 3>>“You and me both,” $A muttered, rolling $A_hisher shoulders and trying to seem nonchalant despite the slight shake of $A_hisher hands.
“It can’t be worse than the upcoming exams?” you joked in an effort to calm $A_himher.
“Don’t bring that up,” $A_heshe groaned as $A_heshe followed your lead outside.<<elseif $option is 4>>“That’s what you're concerned about?” $A asked you with incredulous look, twinged with light humor.
You shrugged with a triumphant smirk. “A win is a win, Addy.”
Your best friend shook $A_hisher head in amusement as $A_heshe followed you outside.<<else>>“Ten bucks on getting suspended after this trip?” $A offered, trying to keep the light heartedness up despite the shake of $A_hisher hands.
“We don’t even know if this warrants direct expulsion,” you deadpanned with a sigh. “So you might wanna keep that under wraps right now.”
$A’s shoulders slumpped in silent agreement as $A_heshe followed you outside.<</if>>
It had already started to rain and the students were rushing to get to shelter. Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head like an impromptu umbrella. Nancy Bobofit was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her posse of mean girls.
When she saw you and $A, she yelled out, “I hope Mrs. Kerr got you good. Preferably nasty cleaning duty for the whole semester.”
“Who are you talking about?” You asked. You’d never even heard that name before.
“Our <em>teacher</em>, the other chaperone who came with us. Duh!”
$A blinked in confusion beside you. “What are you talking about, Bobofit?”
She ended up just rolling her eyes and walking away from you two.
You asked Grover about where Mrs. Dodds was. His response was a confused “Who?”
But he paused first, and he wouldn’t meet your or $A’s eyes, so you wondered if he was messing with you both. Grover wasn’t really the type to pull pranks, but there was a first time for everything, right?
“Not funny, man,” $A told him. “We’re serious.”
Thunder boomed overhead.
You spotted Mr. Brunner sitting under his maroon umbrella, reading his book, as if he’d never moved. You tugged on $A’s sleeve and led the way over to the Latin teacher.
He looked up, a little distracted. “Ah, that would be my pen. Please be prepared with your own writing instrument in the future, $MrMiss $surname.”
You handed Mr. Brunner his pen. You hadn’t even realized you were still holding it.
“Sir,” $A began anxiously, “where’s Mrs. Dodds?”
He stared at the brown-haired $A_person blankly. “Who?”
“The other chaperone, sir. Mrs. Dodds. You know, the math teacher.” You tried to clarify.
He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. “$firstname, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I can recollect, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Lincoln Charter Academy. Are you feeling all right?”
<<unset $option>><h2>[[END OF CHAPTER 1|Ch 2.00]]</h2><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>><<set $chapter to "CHAPTER 2">><div class="chapter-number"><span>$chapter</span></div>
<<set $chaptertitle = "⚡️ KNITTING FOR BEGINNERS: SOCKS OF DEATH ⚡️">><div class="chapter-title"><span>$chaptertitle</span></div>
<center><div class="content-warning"><span><b>CONTENT WARNINGS:</b> violence, mentions of death & murder</span></div></center>\
<<nobr>><div class="choicetable">
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 2.01">><</button>></span>
</div><</nobr>>/*[[Ch 2.01]]*/Alright, you were not usually too bothered by the occasional weird experiences, but usually they weren’t something which affected you for a long term. This twenty-four/seven hallucination was starting to get really old.
For the entirety of the remaining semester, the entire campus seemed to be playing some kind of prank on you and $A. The students acted as if they were completely and totally convinced that Mrs. Kerr—a perky blonde lady who you were positive you’d never seen before in your whole life—had been your math teacher since Christmas.
Occasionally, $A would casually insert a Mrs. Dodds reference into random conversations with your classmates, testing to see if $A_heshe could catch someone off guard. However, the individuals would gaze at $A_himher as if $A_heshe was an escaped asylum patient.
It got so bad that you almost believed them—Mrs. Dodds had never existed.
<em>Almost.</em>
Because if it was some weird school-wide prank, Grover was seriously bad at keeping up the act. Every time you or $A so much as mentioned the name ‘Dodds’ to him, he would hesitate, then claim she didn’t exist. It was quite obvious by now that he was lying.
Something was going on. Something had happened at the museum.
You were fairly certain the only reason why you hadn’t completely lost your mind was because $A was in the same boat as you.
You didn’t have much time to think about it during the days, but at night, visions of Mrs. Dodds with talons and bat wings joined the extensive library of nightmare-fuel you had in mind.
*[[Losing your friends and family.|Ch 2.02][$fear to "losing loved ones"]]
*[[Being all alone.|Ch 2.02][$fear to "being alone"]]
*[[Spiders. Just spiders.|Ch 2.02][$fear to "spiders"]]
*[[Snakes.|Ch 2.02][$fear to "snakes"]]
*[[Clowns.|Ch 2.02][$fear to "clowns"]]
*[[Tight, enclosed spaces.|Ch 2.02][$fear to "claustrophobia"]]
*[[Tiny scattered holes.|Ch 2.02][$fear to "trypophobia"]]
<<if $godlyparent is "Hades">>*[[Deep water bodies.|Ch 2.02][$fear to "deep water bodies"]]
*[[Tall heights.|Ch 2.02][$fear to "tall heights"]]<<elseif $godlyparent is "Poseidon">>*[[The dark.|Ch 2.02][$fear to "darkness"]]
*[[Tall heights.|Ch 2.02][$fear to "tall heights"]]<<else>>*[[The dark.|Ch 2.02][$fear to "darkness"]]
*[[Deep water bodies.|Ch 2.02][$fear to "deep water bodies"]]<</if>>The freaky weather continued, which did nothing to lessen your anxiety. Several nights throughout the semester, thunderstorms woke you out of a dead sleep, shaking the dormitory building with a vengeance. The biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Lincoln Charter Academy. One of the current events you studied in Geography class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.
$A started acting moody and irritable most of the time. $A_HeShe never lashed out at you or Grover, but $A_heshe started getting into more fights with Nancy Bobofit and her friends. $A_HeShe flunked his last physics test, which was very unlike $A_himher. There were a lot of complaints being sent to $A_hisher aunt, to the point that she had to come to the school herself to talk to the principal and shorten the duration of $A’s suspension . She also stayed a bit so she could talk to you.
Simone Moreau sighed heavily, handing you a box of homemade Nanaimo bars. She was looking older than someone who had just turned 32. The wrinkles on her forehead had grown deeper, something $A had referred to as her ‘midlife crisis lines’ as she worked full-time managing a Canadian-themed bar in Queens.
“I don’t know when $A_heshe’s going to stop getting into trouble,” she confided in you, her eyes trained on her $A_nephew who was getting lectured by the principal in her office. “I’m glad Addy has you and Grover to ground $A_himher.”
You looked away guiltily, you weren’t doing too good either. But there was no way you were going to drop that on her while she was still having a stressful time.
<<checkbox "$failedexams" false true>> You failed all three English tests after butchering the spellings, including the supplementary ones.
<<checkbox "$insultedteacher" false true>> You lost your temper and called your History teacher an overaged wrinkly raisin.
<<checkbox "$fellasleep" false true>> You spent more time outside your classes after constantly getting kicked out for falling asleep.
<<checkbox "$skipclass" false true>> You started bunking all your classes and didn’t even bother with giving good excuses for your absences.
<<checkbox "$nosubmission" false true>> You didn’t even try to hand in all your assignments, your grades slipping from Cs to Fs.
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 2.03">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 2.03]]*/The principal officially communicated with your mother the subsequent week, stating that you would not be receiving an invitation to return to Lincoln Charter Academy next year.
‘Oh, whatever!’ you had thought to yourself. ‘I was homesick anyway.’
You wished to be back with your mom in your small apartment on the Upper East Side, even if it meant going to a public school and dealing with your stupid stepfather and his annoying drunkard self.
However, there were things at Lincoln Charter that would leave a void in your heart. The sight of the forest through your dorm window, the distant presence of the Hudson River, the scent of pine trees—all these would be missed. Your two closest friends, $A and Grover, with whom you had formed an eccentric yet compatible trio, would also be absent. You pondered on how they would navigate this place in your absence.
<em>You</em> didn’t want to think about having to spend next year at another boarding school without your friends. You already had a hard enough time making friends, and you dreaded the idea of having to try to make more.
You knew $A, especially, had to hide $A_hisher disappointment at the news. $A_HeShe had whined about how he had done way worse things and you deserved to be let off the hook. The expulsion wasn’t a decision that the principal was budging over, even with your mom involved.
You two had bonded over similar struggles regarding dyslexia, ADHD and daddy issues. It was eerie how similar your stories had been, but it only made your bond deeper.
“You still have your mom though,” $A would joke whenever you brought it up. $A_HeShe didn’t seem too bothered by the topic, although it’d make you feel pretty bad.
Addy told you $A_heshe was too young to remember $A_hisher mother, that $A_hisher aunt said $A_heshe was about two when she passed away of terminal lung cancer. Years of being a smoker had taken a toll on Inès Moreau, but she left behind a nice amount of savings from her brief job as a mechanical engineer.
There were no records of who $A’s father was, not that $A_heshe ever showed much curiosity about him. After spending a part of $A_hisher childhood in Laval, Québec with $A_hisher grandparents and aunt, they moved to the States so Simone could open a bar of her own.
“He was probably a deadbeat,” $A would say with a shrug. “Would’ve shown up by now if I was wrong.”
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 2.04">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 2.04]]*/As exams week drew closer, your roommate got even more irritating. You’d found yourself staying at $A and Grover’s room until right before curfew. You tried to study, and in turn help your friends study, but that was like three dogs trying to teach each other how to fly.
Latin was the only test you could properly study for. You hadn’t forgotten what Mr. Brunner had told you about this subject being life-and-death. You weren’t sure why, but you’d started to believe him.
You winced as $A threw $A_hisher mythology guide book at the wall farthest from you, perched cross-legged on $A_hisher unmade bed with your messily annotated copy of <em>The Illiad</em> open on your lap. But as soon as it hit the wall and your friend noticed your startled response at the suddenness, $A_hisher shoulders sagged.
“Sorry, $nickname,” $A_heshe said, voice purposefully soft. “I’m not mad at you or anything. Just frustrated about the Latin finals.”
“It’s alright,” you shrugged in understanding, shoving the book off of your lap and leaning back tiredly with your palms on the bed. “It’s your second exam tomorrow?”
$A nodded in answer.
“I have it first,” you said. “I’ll try to remember what was on it to give you a heads up. Do the same for me during the Physics test, will you?”
The mahogany-eyed $A_person smiled, mischief in $A_hisher face as he agreed. “Not even worried about getting kicked out? Very admirable.”
“I’m already not being invited next year, dummy,” you reminded $A_himher, rolling your eyes.
“Right,” came his reply, expression flipping into sadness.
<<liveblock>>*[['“Don’t look too bummed out, at least you’ll have Grover!”'|Ch 2.05][$extroverted to $extroverted+2, $introverted to $introverted-2, $cheerful to $cheerful+3, $aggressive to $aggressive-3, $option to 1]]
*[['“Try not to mess up too much when I’m not around, yeah?”'|Ch 2.05][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $mischievous to $mischievous+3, $disciplined to $disciplined-3, $option to 2]]
*<<link '“I’ll visit during every break, I promise.” $flirt_label' "Ch 2.05">><<set $A_romance to $A_romance+1; $option to 3>><</link>>
*<<link '“I’ll miss you, $A. Like, a lot.” $flirt_label' "Ch 2.05">><<set $A_romance to $A_romance+1; $option to 4>><</link>>
*<<link '“Try not to miss me too much, Tools.” $flirt_label' "Ch 2.05">><<set $A_romance to $A_romance+1; $option to 5>><</link>><</liveblock>><<if $option is 1>>$A managed a smile. “Who’s gonna help me save Grover from the bullies?”
“I’m sure you’re more than a match for them,” you said with a confident smile, nudging $A_himher.
$A_HeShe nudged you back with a more genuine smile. “I appreciate that, $nickname.”<<elseif $option is 2>>$A gasped dramatically. “I don’t know what you mean by that, I’m the very picture of discipline and poise!”
“Yeah right,” you scoffed playfully, “maybe on another planet!”
“That is a very severe accusation, $nickname,” $A_heshe shook $A_hisher head, playing along.
Both of you cracked up laughing soon after, your books laying down forgotten.<<elseif $option is 3>>$A smiled in a genuine way, looking slightly cheered up. “You’d drive 40 minutes just to see me?”
“Technically, I’ll be taking the subway so it’ll take an hour, but yes.”
“Still,” $A_hisher tone was uncharacteristically soft as $A_heshe looked at you in a way that made your heart beat weirdly faster. “I appreciate you willing to share the company of those gigantic rats for me.”
The moment broke as you burst out laughing at that, $A_hisher joining you right after.<<elseif $option is 4>>If the shitty lighting from $A’s lamp was any better, you could’ve sworn that $A_heshe was blushing.
“I-I’m gonna miss you too, $nickname,” $A_heshe managed to speak out. “Like, more than a lot. Less than the creepy amount though.”
You smiled at $A_hisher flustered awkwardness. “I get it, Addy, it’s okay.”
$A avoided meeting eyes with you as $A_heshe pretended to get busy with reading, but you could tell that $A_heshe was undoubtedly smiling.<<else>>The shitty lighting did a poor job in highlighting how red $A’s face had gotten as a flush took over $A_himher.
“I-I told you not to call me that,” $A_heshe pretended to be annoyed while swiftly turning away.
“Aw come on, you carry a bunch of tools with you all the time,” you groaned playfully. “It is a very fitting nickname.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” $A_heshe grumbled, before $A_hisher voice goes quieter and softer. “I will miss you though.”
You flashed $A_himher a toothy grin as $A_heshe busied $A_himself with pretending to get busy with reading.<</if>><<unset $option>>
$A and you had been best friends since the beginning of the school year, when Nancy Bobofit ‘accidentally’ spilled her purple Kool-Aid all over one of the few shirts you had that wasn’t in the school laundry, and $A ‘accidentally’ dropped $A_hisher bowl of chili all over Nancy’s lap in retaliation.
Nothing like getting revenge on a bully to bring two people together.
Still, you feared that you’d drift apart now that you wouldn’t be coming back to Lincoln Charter Academy. What if your holidays never lined up? What if Grover didn’t even come back to Lincoln Charter next year? And if he did, who was to say he wouldn’t ditch $A for better friends without you to glue them together? It was you who was Grover’s first friend in Lincoln Charter anyway.
“Hey,” $A said, nudging your shoulder with $A_hishers lightly. “We’ll be okay.” $A_HeShe offered you an extended pinky. “Promise.”
*<<link 'You tried not to smile at $A_hisher dorkiness.' "Ch 2.06">><<set $option2 to 1>><</link>>
*[[You pursed your lips, trying, and failing to look annoyed.|Ch 2.06][$option2 to 2]]
*[[You sighed, but a smile graced your lips regardless.|Ch 2.06][$option2 to 3]]
*[[You let out a delighted huff of laughter at the gesture.|Ch 2.06][$option2 to 4]]<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>>Mr. Brunner went silent.
<<if $option is 1>>Your heart hammered in your chest as you picked up the fallen book and swiftly backed away down the wall with $A in tow.
A silhouette passed over the illuminated glass of Mr. Brunner's office door, belonging to something significantly taller than your Latin teacher in a wheelchair. It held what seemed to be suspiciously close to an archer's bow.
Your hands found the knob of the nearest door and you pulled $A inside after you.<<elseif $option is 2>>Your heart hammered in your chest as $A swiftly snatched up $A_hisher fallen book and backed you two down the hall.
A silhouette passed over the illuminated glass of Mr. Brunner's office door, belonging to something significantly taller than your Latin teacher in a wheelchair. It held what seemed to be suspiciously close to an archer's bow.
$A motioned a finger to $A_hisher lips in a gesture to be quiet and pulled you in the nearest room.<<elseif $option is 3>>Your heart hammered in your chest as you picked up the fallen book and strategically backed away down the wall with $A in tow.
A silhouette passed over the illuminated glass of Mr. Brunner's office door, belonging to something significantly taller than your Latin teacher in a wheelchair. It held what seemed to be suspiciously close to an archer's bow.
You managed to find the room nearest to you two and pulled $A inside right after you.<<else>>Your heart hammered in your chest as $A swiftly snatched up $A_hisher fallen book and backed you two down the hall.
A silhouette passed over the illuminated glass of Mr. Brunner's office door, belonging to something significantly taller than your Latin teacher in a wheelchair. It held what seemed to be suspiciously close to an archer's bow.
$A nodded his head towards the direction of the nearest door and pulled you right after him to hide.<</if>><<unset $option>>
A moment later, you caught a slow <em>clop-clop-clop</em>, reminiscent of muffled wood blocks, followed by a noise resembling an animal snuffling just outside the door where you and $A huddled together. A sizable, shadowy figure halted in front of the glass.
A bead of sweat trickled down your neck. $A had a hand placed over $A_hisher mouth.
After a terrifying couple of seconds, the figure moved on.
Somewhere in the hallway, Mr. Brunner murmured, “Nothing. I thought I heard someone in the hall. Blast these nerves! I haven’t been on an even keel since the winter solstice.”
“Me neither,” Grover said. “But I could have sworn—”
“Go back to your dorm,” Mr. Brunner interrupted him. “And don’t assume that this turn of events will give you a reprieve from the final examinations.”
“Please don’t rub that in, sir.”
The lights went out in Mr. Brunner’s office.
You and $A waited in the dark for what seemed like forever.
Finally, you slipped out into the hallway. Neither of you said a word as $A walked you back to your dorm, $A_heshe didn’t seem to be in a talking mood.
‘I wonder if $A_hisher head is spinning as much as mine,’ you thought to yourself as $A_heshe waved you good night.
You turned around to drown out the sounds of your snoring roommate. You didn’t understand what you’d heard downstairs. There was a want in you to believe that you’d imagined the whole thing.
One thing was clear though: Grover and Mr. Brunner were talking about you and $A behind your backs. They thought you were in some kind of danger.
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 2.08">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 2.08]]*/The following afternoon, after completing the lengthy three-hour Latin exam, your eyes fatigued from misspelling numerous Greek and Roman names, Mr. Brunner summoned you back inside.
Briefly, you were concerned that he had discovered your eavesdropping from the previous night, but it turned out that wasn’t the issue.
“It’s probably not the best paper in class, sir,” you said, regarding your exam, “but I tried my best.”
“$firstname,” he said. “Try not to feel disheartened about departing from Lincoln Charter.”
His gentle tone didn’t lessen the embarrassment his words brought. Even though he spoke in hushed tones, the other students finishing the test could still hear. Nancy Bobofit smirked at you, relishing the way you were shifting uncomfortably under Mr. Brunner’s gaze.
In a mumble, you replied, “Okay, sir.”
“I mean...” Mr. Brunner swiveled his chair uncertainly, as if searching for the right words. “This isn’t the place for your... specific learning needs. It was only a matter of time before everyone recognized that.”
You struggled to maintain your composure. Your favorite teacher stood before the class, declaring that this wasn’t the place for you. Despite him expressing his belief in you numerous times throughout the year, he was now saying that you were bound to be expelled. What was even the point of pushing you so hard when he knew that you were bound to fail in the end?
“Okay,” you said, your voice trembling.
“No, no,” Mr. Brunner said. “Oh, confound it all. What I’m trying to say . . . you’re not normal, $firstname. However, that’s nothing to be ashamed—”
*[['“Thanks,” you blurted. “Thanks a lot, sir. I’d almost forgotten about that.” '|Ch 2.09][$cheerful to $cheerful-2, $aggressive to $aggressive+2, $option to 1]]
*[['“You don’t need to remind me, sir,” you gave him a sarcastic smile. “I already know.”'|Ch 2.09][$mischievous to $mischievous+3, $disciplined to $disciplined-3, $option to 2]]
*[['“I’m used to hearing it, sir,” you said, shrugging in order to seem nonchalant.'|Ch 2.09][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option to 3]]
*[['“You don’t need to say anything more, sir,” you nodded gravely. “I get it already.”'|Ch 2.09][$disciplined to $disciplined+3, $mischievous to $mischievous-3, $option to 4]]“$firstname—”
But you had already left the classroom.
On the final day of the school year, you hastily packed all your clothes and belongings into your suitcases.
Your suitemates were casually chatting about their upcoming vacation plans.
One of them excitedly shared their hiking trip to Switzerland, while another boasted about a month-long Caribbean cruise. Despite sharing the ‘delinquent’ tag with them, they were miles different from you – they were affluent juvenile delinquents, born into families of executives, ambassadors, or celebrities. In contrast, you were a nobody who hailed from a family of nobodies.
When they inquired about your summer plans, you simply mentioned that you were happy about returning to the city.
What you didn’t disclose was the necessity of finding a summer job, probably getting some money by walking dogs or selling magazine subscriptions. Your free time would be consumed by concerns about the impending decision on where to attend school in the fall.
“Oh,” one of them said. “That’s cool.”
They went back to their conversation as if you never existed.
The only people you dreaded saying good-bye to were $A and Grover, but as it turned out, you didn’t have to. They’d booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound as you had, so there you were, together again, heading into the city. $A said $A_heshe had a parcel to pick up from the UPS office there, while Grover gave the reason of having some sightseeing to do.
On the journey, the jittery boy frequently glanced anxiously down the aisle, observing your fellow passengers. Whenever the three of you left Lincoln Charter for school outings or trips, he consistently displayed signs of nervousness and restlessness, as if anticipating something unpleasant. Initially, you had assumed it was concern about potential teasing or bullying. However, on the Greyhound bus, there was no one around to do that.
*[['“Afraid some bat lady might pop up?” you asked.'|Ch 2.10]]
*[['“Looking for the Kindly Ones?” you asked.'|Ch 2.10]]
*[['“Relax, the bat thingy was just a collective nightmare.”'|Ch 2.10]]
*[['“Be careful,” you smirked, “or the Kindly One might get you.”'|Ch 2.10]]$A snorted from $A_hisher seat and Grover nearly jumped out of his. “Wha—what do you mean?”
You admitted to overhearing Grover and Mr. Brunner’s conversation alongside $A the night before your Latin exam.
Grover’s eye twitched. “How much did you two catch?”
“Oh, not much.” $A shrugged and then asked, “What’s the summer solstice deadline?”
Grover winced. “Look, $A . . . I was just concerned for the both of you, you know? I mean, hallucinating about demonic math teachers . . .”
“Grover—” you tried to interject.
“And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe you were overstressed about the exams and expulsion or something, because there was no such person as Mrs. Dodds, and...”
“Yeah but two people having the same hallucination?” you rolled your eyes at his poor attempt at gaslighting. “Try again, G-man.”
Grover’s ears turned pink.
Then from his shirt pocket, he fished out two grubby business cards. “Just take these, okay? In case you need me this summer.”
The cards were in fancy script, which was murder to your dyslexic eyes, but you managed to make out:
<div id="centered"><div id="camp">Grover Underwood
''Keeper''
Half-Blood Hill
Long Island, New York
(800)-009-0009</div></div>
“What’s Half—” $A started to ask.
“Don’t say it aloud!” Grover yelped. “That’s my, um . . . summer address.”
You attempted to hide your frown. Of course, Grover had a summer residence. It hadn't crossed your mind that his family could be as affluent as the others at Lincoln Charter.
*[['“Okay so, like, if we want to come visit your mansion . . .” you trailed off.'|Ch 2.11][$option to 1]]
*[['“Thanks,” you tried to sound upbeat. “We’ll try to visit.”'|Ch 2.11][$option to 2]]
*[['“Don’t expect me to dress up all fancy for the visit,” you tried to joke.'|Ch 2.11][$option to 3]]
*[[You wordlessly nodded, trying to keep your emotions hidden.|Ch 2.11][$option to 4]]<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>><<if $option is 1>>Grover nodded. “Or . . . or if you need me.”
“Why would I need you?”
It came out harsher than you meant it to. $A nudged you with a <em>‘Take it easy’</em> look.<<elseif $option is 2>>Grover nodded. “Or . . . or if you need any help.”
You laughed at his face more harshly than you’d meant to. $A fixed you with a raised eyebrow.<<elseif $option is 3>>Grover shook his head. “It’s alright, just come over if you need me.”
“I don’t think there’d be any need for that.”
You realized it came out less jokey than you’d meant it to, judging by $A’s slightly raised eyebrows.<<else>>Grover acknowledged your silence as an awkward acceptance. “So just reach out if you need me, okay?”
You waved him off rather harshly and $A fixed you with a questioning glance.<</if>><<unset $option>>
Grover blushed right down to his Adam’s apple. “Look, guys, the truth is, I—I kind of have to protect you.”
You stared at him.
All year long, you and $A had gotten into various confrontations to keep the school bullies away from him. You’d lost sleep worrying that he’d get beaten and roughed up next year without you if $A got suspension periods. And here he was acting like he was the one who defended you two.
“Grover,” $A said, voice deceptively calm, “what exactly are you protecting us from?”
A massive grinding noise emanated beneath your feet. Black smoke billowed from the dashboard, filling the entire bus with a foul odor which reminded you of rotten eggs. The driver uttered a curse and limped the Greyhound to the side of the highway.
After a few minutes of clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver informed everyone that they would need to get off the bus. The three of you joined the rest of the passengers outside.
You found yourselves on a stretch of country road—a place that would easily go unnoticed if not for the breakdown of the Greyhound. On your side of the highway, there was nothing but maple trees and scattered litter from passing cars. On the opposite side, separated by four lanes of asphalt shimmering in the afternoon heat, stood an old-fashioned fruit stand.
The displayed goods were tempting: overflowing boxes of blood-red cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, and jugs of cider nestled in a claw-foot tub filled with ice. Despite the appealing spread, there were no customers — only three elderly ladies seated in rocking chairs beneath the shade of a maple tree, busily knitting the most enormous pair of socks you’d ever laid eyes on.
It was clearly a team effort. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held an enormous basket of<<if $eyecolor is "electric blue">> electric-blue yarn.<<else>> electric-blue and $eyecolor yarn.<</if>>
All three women appeared to be ancient, their pale faces resembling wrinkled fruit leather, and silver hair pulled back in white bandannas. Their bony arms protruded from bleached cotton dresses.
What struck you as the weirdest thing was that they all seemed to be staring directly at you.
Turning to Grover to share your observation, you noticed that the color had drained from his face, and his nose was twitching.
“Grover?” you said. “Hey, dude—”
“Tell me they’re not looking at you, $firstname. They are, aren’t they?”
“Yeah. Weird, huh?” $A commented, before looking down at your feet. “You think those socks would fit $himher?”
“Not funny, Addy,” Grover muttered. “You do <em>not</em> want to wear those socks.”
The elderly woman in the center produced an immense pair of scissors—gilded and silvered, with lengthy blades resembling shears. Grover audibly gasped.
“We’re getting on the bus,” he told you two. “Come on.”
“What?” you complained. “It’s a thousand degrees in there.”
“It’s not that bad,” $A shrugged. That was easy for $A_himher to say, high temperatures rarely affected $A_himher.
“Come on!” Grover pried the doors open and climbed inside, but $A stayed back with you.
On the other side of the road, the elderly ladies’ gazes remained fixated on you. The one in the middle severed the yarn, and you could almost swear you heard that distinct snip echoing across the four lanes of traffic. Her two companions rolled up the gigantic socks, leaving you pondering who on earth they could be intended for—King Kong or Godzilla.
At the back of the bus, the driver forcefully extracted a sizable piece of smoking metal from the engine compartment. The bus quivered, and the engine roared back to life.
The passengers cheered.
“Darn right!” yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. “Everybody back on board!”
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 2.12">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 2.12]]*/Once you got going, you had to consciously stop yourself from bouncing your legs up and down. You’d always had an abundance of nervous energy, but this was something else. You couldn’t stand still. Grover didn’t look much better. He was shivering and his teeth were chattering. $A also looked a little pale and feverish, as if $A_heshe’d suddenly caught the flu.
“Grover?” you asked.
“Yeah?”
“What are you not telling us?”
Grover dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief from his pocket. “$firstname, what did you see back at the fruit stand?”
“Are you referring to the elderly ladies?” you inquired, puzzled. “They weren’t exactly the most normal sight, that’s for sure. Why? What’s wrong with them? They're not similar to . . . Mrs. Dodds, are they?”
Grover’s expression was hard to read, but you got an indescribable feeling that the fruit-stand fiasco was something else. Those ladies were something else. And they were much, much worse than Mrs. Dodds.
He said, “Just tell me what you saw.”
“Dude, calm down,” $A exclaimed, sounding a little annoyed by Grover’s vague questions.
*[['“Grover, are you feeling okay?”'|Ch 2.13][$cheerful to $cheerful+2, $aggressive to $aggressive-2, $calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option to 1]]
*[['“You’re freaking me out, man.”'|Ch 2.13][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2, $aggressive to $aggressive+3, $cheerful to $cheerful-3, $option to 2]]
*[['“Is the answer gonna lead to you being even more cryptic?”'|Ch 2.13][$aggressive to $aggressive+1, $cheerful to $cheerful-1, $mischievous to $mischievous+2, $disciplined to $disciplined-2, $option to 3]]
*[[You stared at him questioningly with slight concern.|Ch 2.13][$cheerful to $cheerful+1, $aggressive to $aggressive-1, $calm to $calm+3, $hyper to $hyper-3, $option to 4]]
*[[You blankly stared at his vague request.|Ch 2.13][$disciplined to $disciplined+2, $mischievous to $mischievous-2, $calm to $calm+3, $hyper to $hyper-3, $option to 5]]“$firstname,” Grover’s voice turned desperate. “<em>What</em> did you see?”
You exhaled in resignation. “The one in the middle took out her scissors, and she cut the yarn.”
Your scrawny friend closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that looked vaguely like he was making a cross on himself, though it was apparent that it was something more ancient than that.
He asked, “You saw her snip the cord?”
“Yeah. So?” This conversation was getting more perplexing with every minute. You looked over at $A and observed that $A_hisher brows were furrowed in thoughtful contemplation. This might have struck $A_himher as something which was a confusingly big deal.
“This <em>cannot</em> be happening,” Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumb. “I don’t want this to end up like the last time.”
“What ‘last time’?” $A asked as $A_heshe got increasingly agitated.
“Always ninth grade. They never get past ninth.”
“Grover,” you said, because he was really starting to freak you out. “What in the world are you mumbling about?”
“Please, let me walk you two home from the bus station,” Grover pleaded. “Promise me.”
“$A and I literally live more than half an hour apart,” you tried to point out to him.
Grover persisted. “I’ll manage, okay? Just promise me.”
It was an odd request, but you two ended up promising him that he could do what he wanted.
“Is this some kind of a superstition or something?” $A wondered aloud.
No answer.
“Grover—that snipping of the yarn,” you pressed, feeling increasingly uneasy as something started clicking in your mind. “Does that mean someone is going to die?”
Grover didn’t answer this time either, but he turned to look at you with a somber expression, like he was already brainstorming a eulogy for your funeral.
<h2>[[END OF CHAPTER 2|Ch 3.00]]</h2><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>><<set $chapter to "CHAPTER 3">><div class="chapter-number"><span>$chapter</span></div>
<<set $chaptertitle = "⚡️ MY BEST FRIEND IS THE G.O.A.T (LITERALLY!) ⚡️">><div class="chapter-title"><span>$chaptertitle</span></div>
<center><div class="content-warning"><span><b>CONTENT WARNINGS:</b> violence, mentions of death & murder</span></div></center>\
<<nobr>><div class="choicetable">
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 3.01">><</button>></span>
</div><</nobr>>/*[[Ch 3.01]]*/Okay, so you only felt a little bad about ditching Grover as soon as you reached the bus terminal.
No reasonable person would’ve blamed you or $A, though. Grover was freaking you both out, looking at you like you’d be dropping dead any second, muttering “Why does this keep happening?” and “Why does it always have to be ninth grade?”
When Grover ran to use the restroom, both of you grabbed your luggage, slipped outside, and flagged down separate cabs to get to your respective locations. It was some convenient timing too since Grover’s bladder acted up whenever he got super upset.
“You think he’s gonna get mad at us?” You asked $A, a little anxious about your other friend’s reaction.
“It’s Grover,” $A replied, pursing $A_hisher lips slightly. “He’ll understand.”
But even $A_heshe didn’t sound too sure about that this time.
You nodded, trying to look more optimistic. “Call me when you reach home, will you?”
$A’s expression softened as $A_heshe nodded. “Of course, get home safe.”
“You too, Addy.”
After getting your luggage inside the cab, you took your seat in the back.
“East One-hundred-and-fourth and First,” you told the driver.
<em>Home sweet home.</em>
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 3.02">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 3.02]]*/Every time you found yourself staring at the door of your apartment and hearing your stepfather and his poker buddies laughing obnoxiously like a bunch of demented seals, you ended up missing Lincoln Charter. Compared to sharing space with that human equivalent of a sewer drain, the cement-enclosed spaces of the boarding school was basically paradise.
However, there was one reason that made spending time back home much more bearable — your mom.
In your humble opinion, Maya $surname is—without being super biased—one of the best people in the world, which just proves the theory that the best people are dealt with the worst cards that the world has to offer. Tragically, her parents met their end in a plane crash when she was merely five years old, leaving her in the care of an uncle who could not give less of a shit about her. You strongly suspected that his continued presence was motivated primarily by financial incentives—which came from the government in the form of monthly childcare money—rather than genuine concern for her well-being.
Maya had big dreams, with her primary goal being to become a full-time writer. Throughout high school, she juggled multiple part-time jobs to accumulate funds for a college featuring a strong creative-writing program. However, her plans took a detour when her uncle fell ill with cancer, compelling her to abandon school during her senior year to care for him. After his passing, Maya found herself without financial resources, family support, and the diploma she had worked so hard for.
The only good break she ever got was meeting your dad.
You lacked any tangible memories of him, only a faint warmth and perhaps a fleeting glimpse of his smile. Your mom avoided discussing him as it made her sad, and there were no photographs around to show you how he looked.
See, they weren’t married. She told you he was rich and an important officer in the <<if $godlyparent is "Zeus">>air force<<elseif $godlyparent is "Poseidon">>navy<<else>>army<</if>>, and their relationship was a secret. Then one day, he went off on some important assignment and never returned.
Missing in action, your mom told you. Not dead. <em>Missing in action.</em>
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 3.03">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 3.03]]*/Your mother took on various odd jobs, attended night classes to earn her high school diploma, and single-handedly raised you. Throughout all the challenges, she never voiced any complaints or displayed anger, not even once. Despite her stoicism, you were aware of the difficulties she faced. You also acknowledged that you and your presence hadn’t made it any easier for her, though it was never your intention to do so.
Eventually, she married Gabe Ugliano, who seemed pleasant for the initial thirty seconds, only to reveal himself as a top-notch jerk. When you were younger, you decided to dub him “Smelly Gabe,” a moniker that was surprisingly fitting. The guy emitted an odor that made you think of moldy garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts.
Between the two of you, you made your mom’s life pretty difficult. The way Smelly Gabe treated her, the way you and him got along . . . well, when you came home is a good example.
Entering your small apartment, you wished your mom would be back from work, all while secretly hoping that the sounds of Smelly Gabe and his equally unpleasant friends outside the door were just a figment of your imagination. Regrettably, he was in the living room, engaged in a poker game with his buddies, and the television blared ESPN. The carpet was littered with chips and beer cans.
Hardly looking up, he said around his cigar, “So, you’re home.”
“Where’s my mom?”
“Working,” he said. “You got any cash?”
That was it. No <em>Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?</em>
Smelly Gabe had put on weight. Clad in thrift-store attire, he resembled a walrus without tusks. His nearly bald head showcased three meticulously combed-over hairs, as if attempting to enhance his appearance.
He was the manager of a Best Buy store in Queens, but he rarely ventured outside, leaving you puzzled about why he hadn’t been fired ages ago. Instead, he consistently collected paychecks, using the money to indulge in cigars that made you queasy and, of course, plenty of beer. His persistent expectation was for you to contribute to his gambling funds whenever you were at home. He referred to this arrangement as your “little secret,” implying that if you snitched about it to your mom, he would resort to beating you up. <<if $gender is "female" or $gender is "nonbinary">>Yeah, the guy didn’t care if he hit a kid, much less keep their gender in mind.<</if>>
Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d hit you. Lucky for you, he was too lazy to throw punches most of the time and it was only when there was only the two of you that he followed through on teaching you obedience through violence. That was fine by you, since it meant that he usually took his anger out on you and not your mom.
*[[But that didn’t mean you didn’t fight back as much as you could.|Ch 3.04][$aggressive to $aggressive+10, $disciplined to $disciplined-10, $option to 1]]
*[[You usually just let him get his share of anger out by just staying still and taking it.|Ch 3.04][$disciplined to $disciplined+10, $aggressive to $aggressive-10, $option to 2]]
*[[You usually tried your best to shield yourself from his blows.|Ch 3.04][$calm to $calm+10, $hyper to $hyper-10, $option to 3]]You forcefully shut the door to what Gabe deemed was not technically your room but his ‘study’ during the school months. Despite the label, he never used it for studying; instead, it served as a space for perusing old car magazines. Gabe took great pleasure in cramming your belongings into the closet, leaving his muddy boots on your windowsill, and making the room reek of his unpleasant combination of cologne, cigars, and stale beer. Never mind the fact that he didn’t even bother paying his own share of rent and bills regularly.
You dropped your suitcase on the bed with a sigh. Nothing had really changed in the apartment, as far as you could tell. Your hands clenched subconsciously, hoping that Gabe wouldn’t use the excuse of him losing his poker game to beat you up today. Having to inhale his awful smell in your room was punishment enough. It was almost worse than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds, or the sound of that old fruit lady’s shears snipping the yarn.
The moment that crossed your mind, you felt the strength in your legs falter. Grover's panicked expression flashed in your memory, the promise to him echoing in your thoughts, pledging not to return home without him. Concern for $A and $A_hisher well-being now gnawed at you, and a sudden chill swept through your body. It seemed as if someone—or some thing—was on the lookout for you, perhaps clawing its way up the stairs with horrible, elongated talons.
Then you heard your mom’s voice. “$firstname?”
She opened the bedroom door, and your fears melted away.
Your mother possessed the incredible ability to brighten up the room simply by entering it. Her eyes sparkled, shifting colors with the light, and her smile radiated warmth like a cozy quilt. Though a few gray streaks mingled with her long, dark brown hair, you never perceived her as old. When she gazed at you, it was as if she saw only the positive aspects of you, overlooking any flaws. You’ve never witnessed her raise her voice or utter an unkind word to anyone, not even to you or Smelly Gabe.
“Oh, $nickname. I left work as soon as they’d let me.” She hugged you tight. “You’ve grown since Christmas! Oh, I missed out on so much.”
The white-and-blue ‘The Sweet Shop NYC’ apron she wore carried the delightful aroma of the best things in the world: chocolate, licorice, and all the other delectables they offered at the candy shop on 73rd Street. As usual, she arrived home with a generous bag of ‘free samples’ for you, just as she always did.
*[['You hugged her back tightly. “I missed you so much, mom.”'|Ch 3.06]]
*[['“Aw mom, you can tone down the smothering, y’know?” you said playfully'|Ch 3.06]]
*[['“Okay okay, mom, I can’t breathe!” you said, albeit still basking in her affection.'|Ch 3.06]]
*[[You said nothing, just hugging her back tightly and enjoying the warmth and affection.|Ch 3.06]] Both of you perched on the bed’s edge. As you dived into the strawberry sour strings, she gently ran her hand through your hair, prompting you to spill all the details you hadn’t shared during your weekly phone calls from Lincoln Charter Academy. She didn’t bring up your expulsion; it didn’t seem to be a concern to her. Instead, she focused on more important matters – were you okay? How was her beautiful little $kid holding up?
From the other room, Gabe yelled, “Hey, Maya—how about some bean dip, huh?”
You gritted your teeth. Your mom was, in your unbiased opinion, the nicest lady in the world. She should’ve been married to a millionaire and sipping a margarita on a yacht in the Bahamas right now, not stuck in a dingy apartment with paper-thin walls and tied down to some jackass like Gabe.
For her sake, you made an effort to sound positive as you discussed your final days at Lincoln Charter Academy. You assured her that the expulsion didn’t bother you much. After all, you had managed to stay almost the entire year this time around. You had formed some new friendships and performed quite well in Latin. In truth, the confrontations weren’t as severe as the principal had claimed. You genuinely liked Lincoln Charter Academy, and as you recounted the year, you almost convinced yourself with the positive spin you put on things. However, emotions welled up a bit as you thought about $A, Grover, and Mr. Brunner. Surprisingly, even Nancy Bobofit didn't seem so terrible in hindsight.
Until that trip to the museum . . .
“What is it, sweetheart?” your mom asked. Her eyes tugged at your conscience, trying to pull out the secrets. “Did something scare you?”
“No, mom.”
You felt bad about lying, as if you weren’t already doing enough of that. You wanted to tell her about Mrs. Dodds and the three old ladies with the yarn, but something was holding you back. Plus, you had no intention of getting shipped to see a shrink within twenty-four hours of coming home.
She pursed her lips. She knew you weren’t telling her something, but she didn't push you.
“I have a surprise for you,” she said. “We’ll be having a movie night together, just you and I. Then we can go to the city tomorrow, buy whatever you’d like.”
Your eyes widened, your mood lightening considerably. “Without Smelly Gabe?”
Your mom tried not to laugh at the name, instead giving you a smile and a nod.
You were ecstatic. You and your mom hadn’t had an opportunity to even be alone in the apartment, much less have dinner with Gabe constantly hovering around like an annoying fly. A night with just you and your mom sounded heavenly.
Gabe, with his oh-so-perfect timing, chose that moment to appear in the doorway and growl, “Bean dip, Maya? Didn’t you hear me?”
*[[You were so close to punching his puffy face in.|Ch 3.07][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2, $hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2]]
*[[You sighed, trying not to look too annoyed at him.|Ch 3.07][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $disciplined to $disciplined+2, $mischievous to $mischievous-2]]
*[[You balled your fists and counted to ten, trying to reel your anger in.|Ch 3.07][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2, $disciplined to $disciplined+2, $mischievous to $mischievous-2]]
*[[You rolled your eyes and proceeded to glare at him.|Ch 3.07][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2]]Meeting your mom’s gaze, you grasped the unspoken agreement she was proposing: endure Gabe’s company for a brief period, just until he was prepared to depart with his slimy buddies. In return, you would have the entire apartment to yourselves for the night.
“I was on my way, honey,” she told Gabe. “We were just talking about watching some movies tonight and the trip tomorrow.”
Smelly Gabe narrowed his beady eyes. “You mean you were serious about all that?”
“I knew it,” you muttered, growing dejected. “He isn’t leaving.”
“Of course he is,” your mom said evenly. “Your stepfather is just worried about the money, nothing more. Besides,” she added, “Gabriel won’t have to make do with just the bean dip. I’ll prepare enough supply of seven-layer dip for him to take along for the entire weekend. Guacamole. Sour cream. The whole deal.”
Gabe softened a bit. “So this money for me to go out with the guys . . . it comes out of your savings, right?”
You opened your mouth to argue, how was this even legal? But your mom smoothly cuts in before you can tell him off. “Yes, honey.”
“And you won’t take my car anywhere but around the city and back.”
“We’ll be very careful.”
Gabe scratched at the folds of his double chin. “Maybe if you hurry with that seven-layer dip. And maybe if the $kid apologizes for interrupting my poker game and being snappy with me.”
‘Maybe if I kick you in your dingleberry,’ you thought. ‘And make you sing soprano for a week.’
But your mom’s eyes warned you not to make him mad.
*[[You wanted to scream. Why did she put up with this guy?|Ch 3.08]]
*[[You gritted your teeth and broke eye contact with her, feeling slightly betrayed.|Ch 3.08]]
*[[You never understood why she cared what he thought, and you probably never would.|Ch 3.08]]
*[[Your mom must have had her reasons for putting up with him, although it doesn’t make anything better.|Ch 3.08]]<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>>“I’m sorry,” you muttered, for the sake of not ruining your plans. “I’m really sorry I interrupted your incredibly important poker game and mouthed off to you. Please go back to it right now, they must be waiting for you.”
Gabe squinted his eyes. His tiny brain was probably trying to detect sarcasm in your statement.
“Yeah, whatever,” he decided and went back to his game.
“Thank you, $nickname,” your mom said, shoulders drooping in relief. “Once your stepfather leaves, we’ll talk more about... whatever you’ve forgotten to tell me, okay?”
For a moment, you thought you saw anxiety in her eyes—the same fear you’d seen in Grover during the bus ride—as if your mom too felt an odd chill in the air.
But then her smile returned, and you figured you might have been mistaken. She gently stroked your hair twice and got up to make Gabe his seven-layer dip.
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 3.09">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 3.09]]*/An hour later, Gabe was ready to leave with his buddies.
You watched as he hauled his duffle bag into Eddie’s Ford Bronco, your mom assisting in securing the basket full of food to prevent it from toppling over. Throughout the process, he incessantly complained and groaned about missing her cooking, and more importantly, his '70 Dodge Charger R/T, for the entire weekend.
“Not a scratch on this car, $kid,” he warned you as his poker friends loaded the last bag into the 4x4. “Not one little scratch.”
“Dude, I don’t even have a license yet!” you protested indignantly.
He ignored the logic, merely emphasizing what he previously said. “Not. One. Scratch.”
You push the sarcasm out through gritted teeth. “Sure thing, Gabe. It’s the <em>least</em> I can do for your generosity.”
He nodded in contentment and lumbered over to the 4x4 while his friends prepared to depart. As you watched him walking away, you found yourself doing something inexplicable. As Gabe approached the vehicle door, you replicated the hand gesture you had seen Grover use on the bus—a kind of warding-off-evil motion, with a clawed hand over your heart, followed by a forceful shove toward Gabe. The door slammed so forcefully behind him that it smacked him in the butt, propelling him across his friends’ laps as if he had been catapulted. Whether it was just the wind or an unexpected quirk with the hinges, you had no intention of sticking around to find out.
You grabbed your mom’s hand and immediately bolted for the stairs, not bothering with a goodbye to Gabe.
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 3.10">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 3.10]]*/The apartment (and its smell) became significantly more pleasant once Gabe left with his friends. You and your mom threw open all the windows, allowing fresh air to circulate as you embarked on your customary cleaning routine: changing the sheets, pillows, putting dirty clothes in the laundry basket, vacuuming the whole apartment, and more.
Seated together on the balcony afterwards, you shared moments feeding corn chips and bread to the occasional wandering pigeons. Meanwhile, you also indulged in a feast of jelly beans, chocolate-covered strawberries, peanut butter cups, and all the other complimentary samples your mom had brought home from work.
You searched through the shelves stacked full of movies to search for a couple you could watch tonight. Your mom was a movie buff, her favorite genre being rom-com and that was what a quarter of what the collection consisted of. Gabe had once told her this hobby of hers was ridiculous and laughable. They had this fight, which seemed like a really small thing at the time. But ever since then, she had gone out of her way to expand her collection, with a majority which fell under the romance or rom-com category. Notably, she even secured a metal shelf with a lock mechanism to prevent Gabe from getting his grubby hands on them. This, coupled with her decision to retain her maiden name, $surname, rather than adopting Mrs. Ugliano, served as evidence that she wasn’t entirely swayed by Gabe.
It soon got dark as you adjusted the couch, fluffed up the pillows and got some blankets. Your mom called you to the kitchen to make dinner. She was making your favorite, which also happened to be hers as well.
*[[Pizza, obviously!|Ch 3.11][$food to "pizza"]]
*[[Classic chicken sandwich, of course!|Ch 3.11][$food to "chicken sandwich"]]
*[[Cheeseburgers and fries, all-american classic.|Ch 3.11][$food to "cheeseburgers and fries"]]
*[[What’s a movie night without popcorn?|Ch 3.11][$food to "popcorn"]]
*[[Nothing can beat your mom’s spaghetti and meatballs.|Ch 3.11][$food to "spaghetti and meatballs"]]
*[[Ramen, it got you through boarding school after all.|Ch 3.11][$food to "ramen"]]
*[[Mac and cheese can’t ever be beat!|Ch 3.11][$food to "mac and cheese"]]
*[[Pasta, boujee and easy to make!|Ch 3.11][$food to "pasta"]]
*[[Tacos are a way to your heart.|Ch 3.11][$food to "tacos"]]
*[[You can never go wrong with a good ol’ burrito.|Ch 3.11][$food to "burrito"]]Your mom told you stories as the TV played ‘The Notebook’ at a low volume, about when she was a kid, back before her parents died in the plane crash. She told you about the books she wanted to write someday, maybe even work as a screenplay writer on a movie, when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.
Eventually, the topic moved to the subject of your father. Your mom’s eyes went all misty, as usual. You figured she would tell you the same things she always did, with the wistful and happy tone that made her sound and look years younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turned the color of warm amber.
“He was so very kind, $nickname,” she said. “Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, too. You have his $haircolor hair, you know, and his $eyecolor eyes.”
“Does that also include my D+ report card?” you said, looking away from the TV screen and your mom’s concerned gaze. “I got kicked out of school for the ninth time in nine years, mom. I thought it’d change since I’m in high school now but it’s the same thing as always.”
Your mom pursed her lips, running her hand through your hair softly. “We’ll figure something out, sweetheart. We always do.”
“How old was I?” you asked, in order to change the subject. “I mean . . . when he left?”
<<if $godlyparent is "Zeus">>“He was only with me for one year, $nickname. We met at Central Park. I was there to get some material for a play I was writing, and there he was,” she sighs a little dreamily. “He was wearing a business suit and looking as handsome as ever when he came up to me. We started talking and the rest is history.”<<elseif $godlyparent is "Poseidon">>“He was only with me for one year, $nickname. We met at Brighton Beach. I was there to relax after a hectic day at one of my part-time jobs, and there he was,” she sighs a little dreamily. “He was wearing a bright Hawaiian shirt and looking as handsome as ever when he came up to me. We started talking and the rest is history.”<<else>>“He was only with me for one year, $nickname. We met at the New York Marble Cemetery. I was there to bring some flowers for my parents and uncle, and there he was,” she sighs a little dreamily. “He was wearing a long black overcoat and looking as handsome as ever when he came up to me. We started talking and the rest is history.”<</if>>
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 3.12">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 3.12]]*/“But . . . ” you began, a little confused, “ I thought he knew me as a baby.”
“No, honey. He knew I was expecting a baby, but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born.”
You tried to match that with the fact that you seem to remember . . . something about your father. A warm glow. A smile.
You had always assumed he knew you as a baby. Your mom had never said it outright, but still, you had felt it must have been true. Now, to be told that he’d never even seen you . .
*[[Not that you ever really cared about him. He certainly didn’t when he left you and your mom.|Ch 3.13][$godlyparent_relationship to "tense", $option to 1]]
*[[You loved hearing about him from your mom, but that’s all he would ever be to you — a story.|Ch 3.13][$godlyparent_relationship to "neutral", $option to 2]]
*[[There had always been a part of you which greatly resented him for leaving you and your mom behind.|Ch 3.13][$godlyparent_relationship to "tense", $option to 3]]
*[[You had always loved it when your mom told you about him. It made you feel strangely close to him.|Ch 3.13][$godlyparent_relationship to "accepting", $option to 4]]<<if $option is 1>>Fact of the matter was that he had ultimately decided to go away, and now you and your mom had to deal with Smelly Gabe. You’d always be angry at him for leaving, for not having the guts to marry your mom.<<elseif $option is 2>>Maybe you weren’t throwing all your cards out there yet. Maybe you just thought that resenting and being angry at someone is a waste of your time and energy. Regardless, you had always preferred to not have overbearing emotions when it came to your biological father.<<elseif $option is 3>>Fact of the matter was that he had ultimately decided to go away, and now you and your mom had to deal with Smelly Gabe. You’d always be angry at him for leaving, for not having the guts to marry your mom.<<else>>Call it maybe idealistic or just plain ignorance, you had always figured there must’ve been a valid reason for him leaving. Hearing about him from the way your mom described everything, it was hard not to believe he cared a great deal for you both, despite everything.<</if>><<unset $option>>
“You’re going to send me away again, aren’t you?” you asked her the question that had been nagging at you since you came back. “To another boarding school?”
Your mom snapped a chocolate bar in half.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” her voice weighed heavily. “I think... I think we’ll have to do something about that.”
“Because you don’t want me around?” You regretted the words as soon as they were out.
Her amber eyes welled with tears. She took your hand, squeezing it tight. “Oh, $nickname, no. I—I have to, sweetheart. For your own good. I have to send you away.”
Her words echoed Mr. Brunner's advice—that it was best for you to leave Lincoln Charter.
“Because I’m not normal apparently,” you sighed.
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing, $nickname. But you don’t realize how important you are. I thought Lincoln Charter Academy would be far enough away. I thought you’d finally be safe.”
“Safe from what?”
She locked eyes with you, triggering a rush of memories — all the weird and unsettling incidents that had occurred, some of which you had attempted to bury deep inside your mind.
Back in third grade, a man in a black trench coat had lurked around you on the playground. When the teachers threatened to involve the police, he retreated with a growl. Yet, no one believed your account that, beneath his broad-brimmed hat, the man sported only one eye, situated right in the center of his forehead.
An even earlier recollection surfaced. During preschool, a teacher had unwittingly placed you down for a nap in a cot that a snake had slithered into. Your mom had shrieked upon discovering you playing with a limp, scaly rope that you had somehow managed to strangle to death with your chubby toddler hands.
Throughout every school you attended, there was always something eerie, something unsafe, forcing you to move.
*[[Great, maybe one of these murder attempts on your life will finally succeed one of these days.|Ch 3.14]]
*[[So you weren’t going crazy after all! No wonder you were never sent to see a shrink.|Ch 3.14]]
*[[Is there a ‘Please try to kill me’ sigh written on your forehead or something?|Ch 3.14]]
*[[Getting reminded of all those instances do not do a good job of lessening your anxiety.|Ch 3.14]]“I’ve tried to keep you as close to me as I could,” your mom said. “They told me that was a big mistake. But there’s only one other option, $nickname—the place your father wanted to send you. And I just . . . I just can’t bring myself to do it.”
“My father had a particular school in mind for me?”
“Not a school,” she replied in a hushed tone. “A summer camp.”
Your mind was reeling. Why would your dad—who hadn’t even stayed around long enough to witness the moment you entered this world—talk to your mom about a summer camp? And if it was so important, why had she never brought it up before?
“I’m sorry, $nickname,” she uttered, seeing the confusion in your eyes. “But I can’t talk about it. I—I couldn’t send you to that place. It might mean saying good-bye to you for good.”
“For good? But if it’s just a summer camp, doesn’t that mean . . . ”
She turned toward the fire, and you knew from her expression that if you asked her any more questions she would start to cry.
<div id="centered">[[That night you had a vivid dream. |Ch 3.15]]</div><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>><em>In the midst of a storm at a <<if $godlyparent is "Zeus">>park<<elseif $godlyparent is "Poseidon">>beach<<else>>cemetery<</if>>, three magnificent creatures—a white horse, a golden eagle, and a black dog—engaged in a fierce battle near the edge of the <<if $godlyparent is "Zeus">>treeline<<elseif $godlyparent is "Poseidon">>surf<<else>>line of tombstones.<</if>>. The eagle descended, slashing at the horse’s and dog’s muzzles with its massive talons. The horse reared up, delivering powerful kicks to the eagle’s wings and the dog’s torso. The dog retaliated by using its formidable claws to cut into the horse’s neck and the eagle’s body. Amidst their struggle, the ground trembled, and a monstrous voice chuckled from somewhere beneath the earth, goading the animals to be more brutal in the fight.
You sprinted towards them, understanding the urgency to prevent them from killing each other, but your movements felt sluggish, as if in slow motion. A scream tore from your throat, </em>''No!''<em> as you feared you would be too late.</em>
You woke up with a start.
Outside, a fierce storm actually raged, the sort that splintered trees, demolished houses, and set the ground a-rumble. Lightning illuminated the surroundings, creating an illusory daylight that stretched as far as your eyes could discern. The reverberations of thunder assaulted the windows with a relentless force akin to artillery strikes.
With the next thunderclap, your mom woke up. She sat up, eyes wide, and said, “It sounds like a hurricane.”
You understood the notion was absurd. Hurricanes in New York during this early part of the summer were unheard of. However, it seemed nature had overlooked the rule. Amidst the howling wind and trembling ground, a distant roar echoed—an enraged, anguished sound that sent shivers down your spine.
Soon after, a much nearer noise emerged, reminiscent of mallets striking wood. A desperate voice pierced through the chaos—someone shouting and pounding on the apartment door.
“This is great,” you glared at the door. “Maybe Gabe came back to get a refill on his bean dip.”
Your mother didn’t reply, instead springing out of bed in her nightgown and throwing open the lock.
<div id="centered">[[It wasn’t Gabe, after all.|Ch 3.16]]</div>Grover stood framed in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain. But he wasn’t . . . he wasn’t exactly Grover.
“Searching all night,” he gasped out, panting. “What were you thinking?”
Your mom looked at you in terror—not scared of Grover, but of why he’d come.
“$firstname,” she said, shouting to be heard over the rain. “What happened at school? What didn’t you tell me?”
You were frozen, looking at Grover. You couldn’t understand what you were seeing, your mind was trying to comprehend it and give you a logical answer.
“<<hovertip 'Oh Zeus and the other gods!'>><em>O Zeu kai alloi theoi!</em><</hovertip>>” he yells. “It’s right behind me! Didn’t you tell her?”
You were too stunned to process that he had just uttered a curse in Ancient Greek, and yet, you understood him perfectly. The shock overwhelmed any curiosity about how Grover had managed to arrive here alone in the middle of the night. It wasn’t until you noticed Grover's lack of pants and the unsettling revelation about where his legs should be . . .
Your mom regarded you with a stern gaze, addressing you by your full name and adopting a tone she had never used before, “$firstname $surname. Tell me now!”
You stuttered through an explanation about the old ladies at the fruit stand and Mrs. Dodds, while your mom stared at you, her face drained of color in the intermittent flashes of lightning.
Abruptly, she rose to snatch her purse, tossed your red rain jacket to you, and commanded, “Get to the car. Both of you. Go!”
Grover descended the stairs toward the Dodge Charger, though not exactly in a run per se. He trotted, shaking his shaggy hindquarters, and in that moment, his story about a muscular disorder in his legs began to make sense to you. It finally clicked, how he could move so swiftly yet exhibit a limp when walking.
Because where his feet should have been, there were no feet.
There were cloven hooves.
<h2>[[END OF CHAPTER 3|Ch 4.00]]</h2>You were currently squished between the two singular bright spots in this dump of a school: Grover Underwood and $A Moreau—the only two friends you’d ever made and kept for longer than a month. All the way into the city, you three had to put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich.
“I’m going to kill her,” $A mumbled on your other side, by the window.
Unfortunately, Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny and awkward; he cried when he got frustrated. His shaggy, light brown hair was usually covered with a rastacap and his wood-brown eyes were usually watery like he was holding in his tears. He looked a little old for a high school freshman, what with a wispy beard on his chin and the stubble left by a shaved mustache. You guessed that he’d been held back a few grades, though you also figured it’d be rude to ask. On top of all that, he was disabled, which was apparently the perfect fuel for bullies like Nancy. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. His gait was unsteady, as though each step caused him pain, but the pain always seemed to magically disappear on the cafeteria’s enchilada day.
On the other side, there was $A. $A_HisHer shoulder-length dark brown hair laid in a messy bun, loose strands brushing against $A_hisher cheeks. $A_HisHer eyes were the color of mahogany, and often you could swear that you’d see them burning like fiery coals when $A_heshe got mad. It didn’t took a long time for $A to build a reputation of being a hotheaded troublemaker in school, right after $A_heshe had rigged the school speaker to play “Gangnam Style” by PSY because the principal pulled $A_himher up for not wearing shoes and breaking the dress code rules. You remember $A_himher having no remorse even while being in suspension for three days.
You, on the other hand . . .
*[[tried to be optimistic and make friends.|Ch 1.04][$cheerful to $cheerful+5,$aggressive to $aggressive-5]]
*[[preferred keeping your head down and going unnoticed.|Ch 1.04][$introverted to $introverted+5,$extroverted to $extroverted-5]]
*<<link "had troublemaking tendencies, just like $A." "Ch 1.04">><<set $mischievous to $mischievous+5; $disciplined to $disciplined-5>><</link>>
*[[gave as good as you got, when it came to being pushed over.|Ch 1.04][$aggressive to $aggressive+5, $cheerful to $cheerful-5]]
*[[were known for being a calm and serene kid.|Ch 1.04][$calm to $calm+5, $hyper to $hyper-5]]<<if $option2 is 1>>“Come on,” $A said, looking slightly smug, “I can see you want to smile.”
“I do not,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You’re seeing things.”
“You know you want to,” $A replied while wiggling $A_hisher extended pinky.
“What are we, five?” you pretended to be annoyed but linked pinkies with $A_himher anyway. The smile which graced $A_hisher face was worth it though.<<elseif $option2 is 2>>“You can’t fool me,” $A said, sending you a wink. “I can see you’re pretty amused by this.”
“You wish I was, Tools,” you replied, sticking your tongue out in a very mature move.
$A_HeShe shook his head. “Come on, $nickname, just this once.”
“What are we, five?” you pretended to be annoyed but linked pinkies with $A_himher anyway. The smile which graced $A_hisher face was worth it though.<<elseif $option2 is 3>>“Come on, $nickname,” $A said, wiggling $A_hisher extended pinky finger. “You know you want to.”
You groaned a little half-heartedly. “You’re the cheesiest person I know, you know that?”
“Can never be too cheesy for pinky promises.” $A_HeShe gave you a smile.
“What are we, five?” you pretended to be annoyed but linked pinkies with $A_himher anyway. The smile which graced $A_hisher face was worth it though.<<else>>“Come on, $nickname” $A said, wiggling $A_hisher extended pinky finger. “You know you want to.”
“Doesn’t mean it still isn’t a little cringey,” you replied.
“To be cringe,” $A_heshe said in a faux solemn voice, “is to be free.”
“What are we, five?” you pretended to be annoyed but linked pinkies with $A_himher anyway. The smile which graced $A_hisher face was worth it though.<</if>><<unset $option2>>
After a few minutes of silence and trying to go over your annotations, $A let out a frustrated sigh from $A_hisher desk.
“I’m gonna go talk to Mr. Brunner about some questions,” $A_heshe said, getting up. “Wanna come? I’ll walk you back to your dorm after that.”
You nodded, you were on the verge of giving up and going to sleep anyway. “Yeah, sure.”
It took a few minutes, but you gathered all your stuff before you two were off toward Mr. Brunner’s office. Most of the faculty offices were already dark and empty, but his door was ajar, the light from his window stretching across the hallway floor.
You were three steps from the door when you heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked a question. A voice that was definitely Grover’s said “ . . . worried about $firstname and $A, sir”
You both froze.
“ . . . shouldn’t be alone this summer,” Grover was saying. “I mean, a <em>Kindly One</em> in the school! Now that we know for sure, and <em>they</em> know too—”
“The matters will get even worse if we rush $firstname,” Mr. Brunner said. “We need the $kid to mature more. I admit, I hadn’t even known about $A . . .”
“But $firstname may not have time,” Grover said urgently. “The summer solstice deadline—”
“Will have to be resolved without $himher, Grover. Let $firstname and $A enjoy their ignorance while they still can. It’s for the better.”
“Sir, they <em>saw</em> her. They’re catching up to—”
“They’ll eventually chalk it up to their imagination,” Mr. Brunner insisted. “The <em>Mist</em> over the students and staff will be enough to convince them of that.”
“Sir, I . . . I can’t fail in my duties again.” Grover’s voice was choked with emotion. “You know what that would mean. I already messed up—I missed $A!”
“You haven’t failed, Grover,” Mr. Brunner said kindly. “I should have seen Mrs. Dodds for what she was. As for $A . . . Well, it may be a good thing we missed it with $A_himher. It may mean $A_heshe’ll have an easier time. Now let’s just worry about keeping the two of them alive until next fall—”
$A’s mythology book dropped out of $A_hisher hand and hit the floor with a <em>thud</em>.
*<<link 'You stifled back a curse and pulled $A behind with you.' "Ch 2.07">><<set $intuitive to $intuitive+3; $strategic to $strategic-3; $hyper to $hyper+2; $calm to $calm-2; $option to 1>><</link>>
*<<link 'You cursed quietly and let yourself be pulled away by $A.' "Ch 2.07">><<set $mischievous to $mischievous+2; $disciplined to $disciplined-2; $hyper to $hyper+2; $calm to $calm-2; $option to 2>><</link>>
*<<link 'Your eyes widened and you looked around for a place to hide with $A.' "Ch 2.07">><<set $strategic to $strategic+3; $intuitive to $intuitive-3; $calm to $calm+2; $hyper to $hyper-2; $option to 3>><</link>>
*<<link 'You froze in cautious fear and $A pulled you back to hide.' "Ch 2.07">><<set $mischievous to $mischievous-2; $disciplined to $disciplined+2; $hyper to $hyper-2; $calm to $calm+2; $option to 4>><</link>>/*[[Ch 2.07]]*/<<if $option is 1>>It was infuriating how Gabe would leave from the confrontation with almost no injuries. Meanwhile you had to nurse your bruises and try to explain to your mom that you fell down the stairs or got scraped while skateboarding.
You have a feeling she didn’t believe you fully but her faith in you was enough to convince her that you’d go to her if you were facing any other problems. It made you feel a little guilty but there was no way you could add more to how tired and stressed she usually was.<<elseif $option is 2>>Either it was because he felt bad after seeing how much he roughed you up, or it was because he was lowkey scared of what your mom would do if she found out about him hitting you. Whatever the reason was, Gabe usually left you alone after a couple hits and pushes.
Whenever you tried to explain the bruises to your mom, you managed to make up some bullshit stories about the apartment stairs and skateboarding. You were never sure if she fully believed you and while it made you feel guilty about lying to her, there was no way you could add more to how tired and stressed she usually was.<<else>>Making him let out his steam while defending yourself was the perfect middle ground of not getting badly injured and also not making him get even more mad about you fighting back. Drunk people had ridiculous strength and you knew first-hand what it felt like.
Your lies were pretty believable when you tried to explain that you had hurt yourself while being clumsy and falling over a lot of time. Even with that, however, your mom would have this look in her eyes which told you she didn’t fully believe you. Yes, it made you feel a little guilty but there was no way you could add more to how tired and stressed she usually was.<</if>><<unset $option>>
“I don’t have any cash,” you told Gabe, tightening your hold on your backpack strap.
Raising a greasy eyebrow, Gabe demonstrated an uncanny ability to detect money, akin to a bloodhound. This was unexpected, considering his own distinctive odor that should have overshadowed everything else.
“You hailed a taxi from the bus station,” he remarked, matter-of-factly. “Most likely paid with a twenty. Ended up with six, seven bucks in change. If someone expects to live under this roof, $heshe ought to carry $hisher own weight. Ain’t that right, Eddie?”
Eddie, the supervisor of the apartment building, looked at you with a twinge of sympathy. “Come on, Gabe,” he said. “The $kid just got here.”
“Ain’t that right?” Gabe repeated, glaring at him.
Eddie scowled into his bowl of pretzels. The other two guys farted in harmony.
“Fine,” you spat out. Retrieving a handful of dollars from your pocket, you tossed the money onto the table. “Enjoy your stupid gambling addiction.”
“Your report card came, brain $kid!” he shouted after you. “I wouldn’t act so snooty!”
*[[One of these days you were gonna reach your limit and punch his jaw off his face.|Ch 3.05][$cheerful to $cheerful-3, $aggressive to $aggressive+3]]
*[[As usual, you drowned out his voice by plugging in your trusty headphones.|Ch 3.05][$introverted to $introverted+3, $extroverted to $introverted-3]]
*[[You gritted your teeth and tolerated his incessant buzzing like he was an annoying fly.|Ch 3.05][$disciplined to $disciplined+3, $mischievous to $mischievous-3]]
*[[Your mind automatically blanked out as you moved farther away from his voice’s reach.|Ch 3.05][$calm to $calm+3, $hyper to $hyper-3]]
*[[You tried not to pay him any mind, instead trying to focus on the prospect of seeing your mom again.|Ch 3.05][$cheerful to $cheerful+3, $aggressive to $aggressive-3]]<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>><<set $chapter to "CHAPTER 4">><div class="chapter-number"><span>$chapter</span></div>
<<set $chaptertitle = "⚡️ MOM BLOG ENTRY #14: BULLFIGHTING FOR TEENS ⚡️">><div class="chapter-title"><span>$chaptertitle</span></div>
<center><div class="content-warning"><span><b>CONTENT WARNINGS:</b> violence, mentions of death & murder</span></div></center>\
<<nobr>><div class="choicetable">
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 4.01">><</button>></span>
</div><</nobr>>/*[[Ch 4.01]]*/You sped through the night on dimly lit country roads. The Dodge Charger wasis buffeted by the wind, and rain relentlessly pelted the windshield. Despite the challenging conditions, your mom maintaineds a steady pace.
Whenever lightning illuminated the surroundings, you glanced at Grover seated beside you in the back and questioned your sanity. You pondered on if he was wearing peculiar shag-carpet pants, but it turned out the scent emanating from him triggered memories of kindergarten field trips to petting zoos—reminiscent of lanolin, the smell of a damp barnyard animal.
There was only one thing you could bring yourself to ask. “So, about you and my mom. How long have you two known each other?”
Grover glanced at the rearview mirror, even though there were no cars following after you. “To be honest with you,” he remarked, “I hadn’t ever met her face to face, but she was aware that I was keeping an eye on you.”
“Keeping an eye on me?”
“Watching over you, if you will. Making sure you were alright. But I wasn’t faking being your friend,” he added hastily.
You leaned back with a confused sigh. “Um... what are you, exactly?”
“That doesn’t matter right now.”
*[['“You have a very strange definition of what matters and what not.”'|Ch 4.02][$option to 1]]
*<<link '“I would say knowing what my best friend //actually// is should matter a lot.”' "Ch 4.02">><<set $option to 2>><</link>>
*[['“Dude, your bottom half literally belongs to a barnyard animal!”'|Ch 4.02][$option to 3]]
*[['“Humor me, please. It’s not everyday you see that your best friend is half barnyard animal.”'|Ch 4.02][$option to 4]]
*[['“You do know that I am considerably freaking out right now, right?”'|Ch 4.02][$option to 5]]<<if $option is 1>>“Well, we have other important things to worry about right now,” Grover said, a little uncomfortably.
“Like what? For god’s sake, from the waist down, a best friend of mine is a donkey—”<<elseif $option is 2>>He shifted uncomfortably. “You were not supposed to find out like this.”
“Well now I know. From the waist down, one of my best friends is a donkey—”<<elseif $option is 3>>“Aw come on,” Grover groaned, “it’s not like my lower half comes with a refund receipt.”
“This is way too trippy. From the waist down, one of my best friends is a donkey—”<<elseif $option is 4>>“You’ll get used to it,” Grover said with a nervous smile. “Hopefully soon.”
“Nuh uh, dude, tonight has been wild. I find out that from the waist down, a best friend of mine is a donkey—”<<else>>“I would be more worried if you weren’t freaking out,” Grover stated, sighing.
“This is crazy with a capital C. There’s a hurricane going on, one of my best friends is a donkey from the waist do—”<</if>><<unset $option>>
Grover let out a sharp, throaty “//Blaa-ha-ha//!”
You had heard that noise from him before, but you had always interpreted it as a nervous laugh. Now you understood it was more akin to an irritated bleat.
“Goat!” he snapped.
“What?!”
“I’m a goat from the waist down!”
“That doesn’t make it any better!”
“//Blaa-ha-ha//! Lucky for you, I really am your friend. There are satyrs who would trample you under their hooves for an insult like that!”
“Wait wait, hold up!” your head was reeling badly. “Satyrs. You mean the ones from Mr. Brunner’s myths?”
“Were those old ladies at the fruit stand a myth, $nickname? Was Mrs. Dodds a myth?”
“A-ha! So you admit there was a Mrs. Dodds!”
“Of course.”
*[['“I’m not surprised, you were such a bad actor.”'|Ch 4.03][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option2 to 1]]
*[['“I knew it! You couldn’t lie properly to save your life.”'|Ch 4.03][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2, $option2 to 2]]
*[['“Cool cool cool . . .”'|Ch 4.03][$cheerful to $cheerful+2, $aggressive to $aggressive-2, $option2 to 3]]
*[['“Gee, you couldn’t have told me this before I started questioning my sanity?”'|Ch 4.03][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2, $option2 to 4]]<<if $option2 is 1>>“Hey! I tried my best!” Grover protested, affronted.
“It wasn’t fooling anyone, dude. Speaking of which, does $A know?”
Grover hesitated a little before answering. “No, $A_heshe doesn’t. In truth, $A_heshe was as much in the dark about everything as you.”<<elseif $option2 is 2>>“I have a PhD in lying, thank you very much!” Grover sniffed, affronted.
“Maybe from Alabama State University,” you said, shaking your head. “Does $A know about all of this?”
Grover hesitated a little before answering. “No, $A_heshe doesn’t. In truth, $A_heshe was as much in the dark about everything as you.”<<elseif $option2 is 3>>“$nickname,” Grover called out hesitantly, “you okay?”
“What do you think?” you sighed out, shaking your head. “Was $A involved in all of this?”
Grover hesitated a little before answering. “No, $A_heshe wasn’t. In truth, $A_heshe was as much in the dark about everything as you.”<<else>>“I’m sorry, $nickname,” Grover looked at you with his big goat eyes, “I wish I could’ve told you sooner.”
You sighed, crossing your arms to keep the chill out. “At least now the cat’s out of the bag. I’m curious if $A was in on it with you in all of this.”
Grover hesitated a little before answering. “No, $A_heshe wasn’t. To tell you the truth, $A_heshe was as much in the dark about everything as you.”<</if>><<unset $option2>>
“Well, where is $A_heshe then?” you asked, now scrutinizing his responses. His answers now seemed honest enough.
“$A_heshe is safe.” Grover said with an assured tone. “Now we need to get you to safety.”
“Safety from what? Who the hell is after me?”
“Oh, just a handful of the bloodthirsty monsters from the depths of Tartarus, nobody much” Grover replied, clearly still a bit annoyed at the donkey comment.
“Grover!” your mom reprimanded him.
“Sorry, Mrs. $surname. Could you drive faster, please?”
“Grover,” you called on his attention again. “I still don’t understand why you lied to me and $A about everything.”
“The less you knew, the fewer monsters you’d attract to your location,” Grover explained, as if it should be obvious enough by now. “We used Mist to veil the truth from human eyes. We were hoping you’d dismiss the Kindly One as a hallucination. But it didn’t work out too well in the end. You began to grasp onto your true identity.”
“Began to grasp onto my—wait a minute, what do you mean by that?”
The peculiar bellowing noise resurfaced, now originating from somewhere behind you, even closer than before. Whatever pursued all of you was still in relentless pursuit and wasn’t stopping anytime soon.
“$firstname,” your mom said, “there’s too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you to camp.”
*[['“You know, it would really help if you two started being less confusing with your answers.”'|Ch 4.04]]
*[['“Is that the camp my father had picked out for me?”'|Ch 4.04]]
*[['“Is that the camp you were talking about earlier, mom?”'|Ch 4.04]]
*[['“This is not exactly the perfect weather to camp, don’t you think?”'|Ch 4.04]]
*[['“Mom, I think being all mysterious and secretive is what got us in this situation.”'|Ch 4.04]]
*[['“Will somebody actually give me a clear and straightforward answer for once?”'|Ch 4.04]]“Please, dear,” your mother begged you. “This is hard enough for us all. You must try to understand. You’re in terrible danger.”
“I guess that’s because those old ladies cut the yarn.”
“Those weren’t just some random old ladies,” Grover said, apprehension creeping in his voice. “Those were the Fates. Do you know what that means? The fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you’re about to... when someone’s about to die.”
“Back that up a bit. You said ‘you’.”
“No I didn’t. I said ‘someone.’”
“You meant ‘you.’ As in me.”
“I meant you, like ‘someone.’ Not you, you.”
“Kids, please, stop!” your mom pleaded.
She sharply turned the wheel to the right, and you caught a fleeting glimpse of a figure she had maneuvered the car to evade—a dark, looming shape now obscured behind you in the midst of the storm.
*[['“Holy shit, what the fuck was that?!”'|Ch 4.05][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2, $option to 1]]
*[['“I’m guessing that wasn’t Santa Claus coming in early this year.”'|Ch 4.05][$mischievous to $mischievous+2, $disciplined to $disciplined-2, $option to 2]]
*[['“We’re very screwed, aren’t we?”'|Ch 4.05][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option to 3]]
*[['“Oh yeah, this is all a dream. This is all a dream and I’m gonna wake up soon.”'|Ch 4.05][$disciplined to $disciplined+2, $mischievous to $mischievous-2, $option to 4]]
*[['“This is the worst weekend I’ve ever had.”'|Ch 4.05][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2, $option to 5]]<<nobr>><<if $option is 1>>“If we can just make it to camp,” your mother muttered, ignoring your question. “Another mile. Please. Please. Please.”
<<elseif $option is 2>>“If we can just make it to camp,” your mother muttered, ignoring your statement. “Another mile. Please. Please. Please.”
<<elseif $option is 3>>“If we can just make it to camp,” your mother muttered, ignoring your question. “Another mile. Please. Please. Please.”
<<elseif $option is 4>>“If we can just make it to camp,” your mother muttered, ignoring your statement. “Another mile. Please. Please. Please.”
<<else>>“If we can just make it to camp,” your mother muttered, ignoring your statement. “Another mile. Please. Please. Please.”
<</if>><</nobr>><<unset $option>>
You gulped, not knowing exactly where the ‘camp’ was but you still found yourself subconsciously leaning forward in the car, anticipating, wanting you to arrive.
Outside, only rain and darkness stretched endlessly—an expanse that you recognized as the desolate countryside found at the far tip of Long Island. It surprised you to realize that you had been driving for more than an hour already.
<<if $godlyparent is "Hades">>Then you reflected on Mrs. Dodds and the moment when she transformed into the creature with pointed teeth and leathery wings. The delayed shock sent numbness through your limbs all at once. So she truly hadn’t been human. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, you felt she hadn’t intended to harm you.<<else>>Then your mind went back to Mrs. Dodds and the moment when she transformed into the creature with pointed teeth and leathery wings. A delayed shock set in, causing your limbs to go numb. She truly hadn’t been human, and her intention had really been to kill you.<</if>>
Next, your thoughts shifted to Mr. Brunner and the sword he had thrown to you. Before you could inquire with Grover about it, a shiver ran down the back of your neck. A rattling sound emanated from the engine compartment, accompanied by an ominous sense that something unpleasant was going to happen.
*[['“Oh shi—”'|Ch 4.06]]
*[['“Mom? Grov—”'|Ch 4.06]]
*[['“We’re so scre—”'|Ch 4.06]]
*[['“We’re gonna d—”'|Ch 4.06]]
*[['“What the h—”'|Ch 4.06]]
*[['“What in the wo—”'|Ch 4.06]]A thunderous //''boom!''// from the engine shook your jaw, and your car exploded into flames.
You recall the sensation of being weightless, as if you were being simultaneously crushed, fried, and drenched in equal measures.
You lifted your forehead off the back of the driver’s seat and muttered, “Ow.”
“$firstname!” your mom shouted out.
“It’s okay, mom. I’m okay,” you reassured her before muttering, “aside from a possible brain injury . . .”
You attempted to shake off the daze, realizing you weren’t dead. Thankfully, the entire car hadn’t truly exploded into flames; instead, it had careened into a ditch. The doors to the driver’s side were jammed in the mud, and the roof had split open like a peeled can, allowing rain to pour inside.
The engine had malfunctioned, propelling the car off the road with a powerful blast. Beside you, in the backseat, laid a large, unmoving figure. “Grover!”
He was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. You shook his furry hip, thinking, ‘No! Even if your bottom half belongs to a herbivorous animal, you’re my best friend and I don’t want you to die!’
Then he groaned “Food,” and you knew there was hope after all.
“$firstname,” your mother said, “we have to . . .” Her voice faltered.
You glanced backward to where she was looking. In a sudden burst of lightning, illuminated through the mud-smeared rear windshield, you discerned a figure advancing towards you along the roadside shoulder. The sight sent shivers down your spine. It was the dark silhouette of an enormous guy, built like a top-notch NFL player, holding what appeared to be a blanket over his head. The upper part of his body was bulky and fuzzy, while his raised hands created an illusion of horns.
“Who the hell is that?!” you yelled, panic setting in.
“$firstname,” your mother said, deadly serious.
<div id="centered">[['“Get out of the car. Now!”'|Ch 4.07]]</div>Your mother flung herself against the driver-side door, but it was wedged in the mud. You attempted to open yours, but found it stuck as well. Desperately, you gazed up at the hole in the roof. While it could serve as an exit, the edges were jagged and sharp like a haphazard effort at opening a metal can.
“Climb out the passenger’s side!” your mother instructed you. “$firstname, you have to run. Do you see that big tree?”
“What tree?”
Another flash of lightning, and through the torn opening in the roof, you caught sight of the tree she was referring to: an immense pine, comparable in size to a White House Christmas tree, positioned at the summit of the nearest hill.
“That’s the property line,” your mom informed you. “Cross over that hill, and you’ll spot a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don’t look back. Shout for help. Do not stop until you reach its doors.”
“Mom, you’re coming with me too, right?”
Her face was pale, her eyes sad as she looked into the distance. You did not like the expression on her face at all.
“Help me with Grover,” you said, shaking her out of whatever trance she seemed to be in. “Come on, mom, hurry.”
“Food!” Grover moaned, a little louder.
The figure with the blanket on his head continued to advance, emitting grunting and snorting sounds. As he approached, you realized his meaty hands were actually swinging at his sides. There was no blanket. This meant that the bulky, fuzzy mass, which was too large to be his head, was indeed his head. And the points that resembled horns...
“He isn’t after us,” your mother told you. “He’s after you. Besides, I can’t cross the property line.”
“But—”
“We don’t have time, $firstname. Go. Please.”
*<<link '“No no no,” you shook your head, determined. “You //are// coming with me.”' "Ch 4.08">><<$disciplined to $disciplined+2; $mischievous to $mischievous-2>><</link>>
*[['“Are you kidding me?” you asked, getting angry. “I’m not leaving you, mom.”'|Ch 4.08][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2]]
*[['“Mom, come on,” you said, your tone a mixture of resolve and urgency. “We’re getting out together.”'|Ch 4.08][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2]]
*[[You shook your head, your eyes steeling in resolve to not leave her behind.|Ch 4.08][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2]]
*[['“Mom, please,” you begged her with watering eyes. “I can’t leave you. I won’t leave you.”'|Ch 4.08][$cheerful to $cheerful+2, $aggressive to $aggressive-2]]<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>>You were angry at that moment—infuriated by the entire situation, your mother, Grover the goat, and the creature with horns moving towards you with deliberate slowness, like... like a bull.
Out of pure adrenaline, you climbed across Grover and pushed the door open into the rain. “We’re going together, and that’s final.”
“I told you—”
“Absolutely not! I am not leaving you. Help me with Grover.”
Without waiting for her response, you rushed outside, pulling Grover out of the car. While he was surprisingly light, you realize you wouldn’t have been able to carry him very far if your mom hadn’t come to your aid.
As a team, you slung Grover’s arms over your shoulders and began to stagger uphill through the wet, waist-high grass.
Looking back, you got your first unobstructed view of the monster. Standing at least seven feet tall, his arms and legs resembled something from the cover of a Muscle Man magazine—bulging biceps, triceps, and a multitude of other ‘ceps, all packed like baseballs beneath vein-webbed skin. He was clad only in an underwear—bright white Fruit of the Looms—which might have seemed comical if the upper part of his body wasn’t so menacing. Coarse brown hair began around his belly button, growing thicker as it reached his shoulders.
His neck was formed from a bulk of muscle and fur, extending to his colossal head. The snout, as long as your arm, featured snotty nostrils adorned with a gleaming brass ring. Cruel black eyes and enormous black-and-white horns, with points that couldn’t possibly be achieved even with an electric sharpener, completed the menacing ensemble.
You recognized the monster. He had been in one of the first stories Mr. Brunner told you. But he couldn’t be real.
<div id="centered">[[The Minotaur.|Ch 4.09]]</div>You blinked the rain out of your eyes. “That’s—”
“Pasiphaë’s son,” your mother said, eyes wide and frightened. “I wish I’d known how badly they want to kill you.”
“But he’s the Min—”
“Don’t say his name,” she warned. “Names have power.”
The pine tree was still way too far—a hundred yards uphill at least.
You casted another glance behind you. The bull-man stooped over the car, peering into the windows—or not exactly peering, more like snuffling and nuzzling. It was unclear why he bothered to do that, considering you were only about fifty feet away.
“Food?” Grover moaned.
“Shhh!” you quieted him down so he wouldn’t get you all killed. “Mom, what’s he doing? Doesn’t he see us?”
“His sight and hearing are terrible,” she explained. “He goes by smell. But he’ll figure out where we are soon enough.”
As if timed perfectly with her statement, the bull-man bellowed in rage. He grabbed Gabe’s Dodge Charger R/T by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning under the strain. Lifting the car over his head, he hurled it down the road. The vehicle slammed into the wet asphalt, skidding in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before finally coming to a halt. The gas tank erupted in a big explosion.
//Not a scratch//, you remembered Gabe saying.
<div id="centered">[[Oops.|Ch 4.10]]</div>“$firstname,” your mom said. “When he sees us, he’ll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump to the side. He can’t change directions very well once he’s charging. Do you understand?”
“How do you know all of this?”
“I’ve been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. It was selfish of me, keeping you near.”
“Keeping me near? But—”
Another furious bellow, and the bull-man began stomping uphill. He had caught your scent.
The pine tree was just a few yards away, but the hill was becoming steeper and more slippery, and Grover wasn’t becoming any lighter.
The bull-man closed in. Another few seconds and he was going to be on top of you all.
Your mother must have been exhausted, but she shouldered Grover. “Go, $firstname! Scatter! Remember what I said.”
You didn’t want to split up, but you had the feeling that she was right—it was your only chance.
You dashed to the left, pivoted, and witnessed the creature closing in on you. His black eyes emitted a malevolent glow, and he reeked of rotten meat. Lowering his head, he charged with those razor-sharp horns pointed directly at your chest.
The fear in your stomach made you want to bolt the fuck away, but you knew that wouldn’t work. You could never outrun this thing. So you held your ground, and at the last moment...
*[[You jumped to the side, rain splashing your shoes.|Ch 4.11][$option to 1]]
*[[You rolled to the side, mud smearing your rain jacket.|Ch 4.11][$option to 2]]
<<nobr>><<if $godlyparent is "Zeus">>*[[You jumped, practically sailing through the air.|Ch 4.11][$option to 3]]<</if>><</nobr>><<if $option is 1>>The bull-man charged past you like a freight train as you attempted to shake off the slight pain in your ankles. He bellowed in frustration and turned, but not toward you this time—instead, toward your mother, who was carefully placing Grover down in the grass.<<elseif $option is 2>>The bull-man charged past you like a freight train as you coughed out the grass from landing face-first. He bellowed in frustration, then turned, but not toward you this time—instead, toward your mother, who was gently placing Grover down in the grass.<<elseif $option is 3>>The bull-man stormed past you like a freight train as you defied the rules of gravity and landed feet-first softly on the ground. He bellowed with frustration and turned, but not toward you this time—instead, toward your mother, who was gently placing Grover down in the grass.<</if>><<unset $option>>
You had made it to the top of the hill. On the other side, as your mother had described, you could see a valley with the lights of a farmhouse glowing yellow through the rain. However, it was half a mile away, and you weren’t sure if you’d even be able to reach it.
The bull-man grunted, pawing the ground. He kept eyeing your mother, who was now retreating slowly downhill, back toward the road, trying to lead the monster away from Grover.
“Run, $nickname!” she shouted. “I can’t go any farther. But you have to run!”
Yet, you remained motionless, your feet seemingly glued to the ground, as the monster charged at her. She attempted to sidestep, following her earlier advice to you, but the monster had learned his lesson.
His hand shot out, seizing her by the neck when she tried to escape. He hoisted her up, and she struggled, kicking and pummeling the air.
“Mom!”
She caught your eyes and managed to choke out one last word: “Go!”
Then, with a mad roar, the monster clenched his fists around your mother’s neck, and she dissolved before your eyes, transforming into light—a shimmering, golden form, as though she were a holographic projection. In a blinding flash, she was simply . . . gone.
*[[You couldn’t think properly, all you saw was red.|Ch 4.12][$aggressive to $aggressive+3, $cheerful to $cheerful-3, $option2 to 1]]
*[[A horrified manic laugh escaped your lips.|Ch 4.12][$mischievous to $mischievous+3, $disciplined to $disciplined-3, $option2 to 2]]
*[[You felt warm tears flow down your cheeks.|Ch 4.12][$cheerful to $cheerful+3, $aggressive to $aggressive-3, $option2 to 3]]
*[[A guttural scream ripped out from your throat.|Ch 4.12][$hyper to $hyper+3, $calm to $calm-3, $option2 to 4]]
*[[You were numb, trying to process what you just witnessed. |Ch 4.12][$calm to $calm+3, $hyper to $hyper-3, $option2 to 5]]<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>><<nobr>><<if $option2 is 1>>
A kind of rage you’d never known washed over you like pure, flowing lava. Newfound strength surged through your limbs—the same burst of energy you had experienced when Mrs. Dodds sprouted talons.
<<elseif $option2 is 2>>
Your lips then twisted into a snarl as anger replaced the dubious hilarity of the situation. A newfound strength surged through your limbs—the same burst of energy you had experienced when Mrs. Dodds sprouted talons.
<<elseif $option2 is 3>>
Soon those tears of grief changed into tears of determination, the heat almost scorching your cheeks. A newfound strength surged through your limbs—the same burst of energy you had experienced when Mrs. Dodds sprouted talons.
<<elseif $option2 is 4>>
Your throat felt raw and hot as you clawed at the ground and felt your fury searing through your veins. A newfound strength surged through your limbs—the same burst of energy you had experienced when Mrs. Dodds sprouted talons.
<<else>>
The cold numbness stuck to you like your soaked clothes in the rain, but it all soon seemed to evaporate as you started to shake with rage. A newfound strength surged through your limbs—the same burst of energy you had experienced when Mrs. Dodds sprouted talons.
<</if>><</nobr>><<unset $option2>>
The bull-man closed in on Grover, who laid helpless in the grass. The monster hunched over, sniffing around your best friend, as if he intended to lift Grover up and make him dissolve as well.
You were not going to allow that. You stripped off your red rain jacket.
“Hey!” you called out, waving the jacket, running to one side of the monster. “Hey, you stupid burger patty!”
“//Raaaarrrrr//!” The monster turned toward you, shaking his meaty fists.
You had a plan here—a rather foolish one, but still better than having no plan at all. Placing your back against the large pine tree, you waved your red jacket in front of the bull-man like a teenage matador, intending to jump out of the way at the last moment.
But things didn’t go as you previously hoped it would.
The bull-man charged too fast, both arms outstretched to grab you whichever way you attempted to dodge.
Time slowed down.
Your legs tensed. Unable to jump sideways, you leaped straight up, kicking off from the creature’s head, using it as a springboard. You turned in midair and clumsily landed on his neck.
‘How did I do that?’ you thought, but you didn’t have time to figure it out. A millisecond later, the monster’s head slammed into the tree, and the impact nearly knocked your teeth out.
The bull-man staggered around, attempting to shake you off. Determined, you locked your arms around his horns to prevent being thrown. Thunder and lightning continued unabated. The rain stung your eyes, and the stench of rotten meat burned your nostrils.
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 4.13">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 4.13]]*/The monster thrashed about, bucking like a rodeo bull. It could have simply backed up into the tree, crushing you flat, but you were beginning to realize that this creature had only one direction to go: forward.
<<if $hyper gt $calm or $extroverted gt $introverted or $aggressive gt $cheerful or $mischievous gt $disciplined>>Meanwhile, a continuous stream of groans began spilling out of Grover’s mouth. You wanted to yell at him to shut up, but the way you were getting tossed around, you’d bite your own tongue off if you opened your mouth.<<else>>Meanwhile, a continuous stream of groans began spilling out of Grover’s mouth. You quietly yelled at him in your head to shut up, because with the way you were getting tossed around, you’d bite your own tongue off if you opened your mouth.<</if>>
“Food!” Grover moaned.
The bull-man turned toward him, pawed the ground once more, and prepared to charge. The memory of how he had squeezed the life out of your mother, making her vanish in a flash of light, fueled your rage like high-octane fuel. With both your hands wrapped around one horn, you pulled backward with all your remaining strength. The monster tensed, emitted a surprised grunt.
//''Snap!''//
The bull-man roared and hurled you through the air. You landed unceremoniously on your back in the grass, your head smacking against a rock. When you sat up, your vision was blurry, but you found a horn in your hands—a ragged bone weapon the size of a knife.
The monster charged toward you.
*[[Thinking fast and looking around, you quickly rolled to one side.|Ch 4.14][$strategic to $strategic+5, $intuitive to $intuitive-5, $option to 1]]
*[[Pure adrenaline controlled your limbs and you quickly scrambled backwards.|Ch 4.14][$intuitive to $intuitive+5, $strategic to $strategic-5, $option to 2]]
*[[Throwing caution to the wind, you charged toward the bull-man.|Ch 4.14][$intuitive to $intuitive+5, $strategic to $strategic-5, $option to 3]]
*[[Taking careful aim, you threw the horn straight at the bull-man. |Ch 4.14][$strategic to $strategic+5, $intuitive to $intuitive-5, $option to 4]]<<nobr>><<if $option is 1>>
You came up kneeling right beneath the bull-man. As the monster barreled past, you drove the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage.
<<elseif $option is 2>>
With your back against a tree, you ducked as the monster slammed head-first against the trunk. Before he recovered, you quickly drove the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage.
<<elseif $option is 3>>
The monster seemed to reel back slightly in surprise but you weren’t backing up. Digging your feet into the ground and kneeling, you quickly drove the broken horn straight into his side, right up under his furry rib cage.
<<else>>
The air itself seemed to slice apart as the horn made its way straight to who it came from in the first place. The broken horn found its mark deep into the monster’s side, right up under his furry rib cage.
<</if>><</nobr>><<unset $option>>
The minotaur bellowed in pain, thrashing and scraping at its chest. Gradually, it began to disintegrate— not in the manner of your mother, bathed in a burst of golden light, but akin to the crumbling of sand. The wind scattered its fragments, reminiscent of the way Mrs. Dodds had fragmented and dispersed.
The monster was gone.
The rain had ceased, leaving only distant echoes of the retreating storm. Your scent now bore the earthy hint of livestock, and your knees quivered beneath you. Your head throbbed as if threatening to split open, and a profound sense of weakness and fear coursed through you, accompanied by trembling grief.
Witnessing your mother vanish left you longing to collapse and weep. Yet, Grover was there, reliant on your assistance. Summoning whatever strength which remained, you lifted him up and staggered down into the valley, guided by the distant glow of the farmhouse lights. The urge to cry out for your mother was strong, but you clung to Grover, steadfast in your determination to not let him go.
Black spots danced around your vision and your knees buckled as you collapsed near some kind of wooden porch. It took too much energy to keep your eyes open, but you linger just on the edge of consciousness.
<<if $M_gender is "Male" and $V_gender is "Male">>
Two guys appeared in your peripheral vision. Both seemed to be around your age—one of them had his curly hair dyed a pretty beach blonde in meticulous dreads, and the other guy’s short black hair was effortlessly styled to perfection.
You stayed conscious long enough to hear the blonde one shout, “Valentine! Help me get $himher to the infirmary!”<<elseif $M_gender is "Female" and $V_gender is "Female">>Two girls appeared in your peripheral vision. Both seemed to be around your age—one of them had her curly hair dyed a pretty beach blonde in meticulous dreads, and the other girl’s shoulder-length black hair was effortlessly styled to perfection.
You stayed conscious long enough to hear the blonde one shout, “Valentine! Help me get $himher to the infirmary!”<<else>>Two teens appeared in your peripheral vision, both seemingly around your age—one of them, you made out to be a $M_guy with curly hair dyed a pretty beach blonde in meticulous dreads; the second of the two looked to be a $V_guy and had perfectly styled straight black hair.
You stayed conscious long enough to hear the blonde one shout, “Valentine! Help me get $himher to the infirmary!”<</if>>
<h2>[[END OF CHAPTER 4|Ch 5.00]]</h2><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>><<set $chapter to "CHAPTER 5">><div class="chapter-number"><span>$chapter</span></div>
<<set $chaptertitle = "⚡️ HOW TO WIN AT PINOCHLE AGAINST A HORSE ⚡️">><div class="chapter-title"><span>$chaptertitle</span></div>
<center><div class="content-warning"><span><b>CONTENT WARNINGS:</b> violence, mentions of death & murder</span></div></center>\
<<nobr>><div class="choicetable">
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 5.01">><</button>></span>
</div><</nobr>>/*[[Ch 5.01]]*/You came to in fleeting moments, between dreams of darkness and monstrous roars and barnyard animals who either wanted to kill you or wanted food.
The first time your eyes fluttered open, you saw a tent-like ceiling above you, until the view was obstructed by a blurry, vaguely familiar face.
“What do you think happened to $himher?” asked a voice which you were pretty sure you’d heard before, but you couldn’t see the person who was speaking.
“Minotaur attack,” answered a vaguely recognizable voice grimly, matching the movement of the lips of the face above you. “$MrMiss $surname, can you hear me?”
You couldn’t even open your mouth to answer. Exhaustion snatched you back into the land of weird dreams.
You likely woke up multiple times afterward, but the sights and sounds were way too confusing, causing you to drift back into unconsciousness. Your recollections included reclining on a comfortable bed and being fed a peculiar substance reminiscent of buttered popcorn, though it turned out to be pudding. The person, whom you identified as a $M_guy, had curly blond hair styled in dreadlocks and a rich brown complexion, playfully smirking as $M_heshe wiped away droplets from your chin with a spoon. The $V_guy with the luscious black hair and porcelain skin was holding a straw to your mouth and making you drink something that tasted like sweet apple juice, $V_hisher face twisted in a frown as if $V_heshe couldn’t believe $V_heshe was acting like someone’s nurse.
When the blonde $M_guy saw your eyes flutter open, $M_heshe asked, “What will happen at the summer solstice?”
You coughed and managed to croak, “What?”
The black-haired one looked around, as if afraid someone would overhear, before $V_heshe tried to be specific. “What’s going on? What was stolen? We’ve only got a few weeks!”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, “I don’t...”
Somebody knocked on the door, and your two inquisitor-nurses quickly filled your mouth with food.
The next time you woke up, they were both gone.
A robust blond guy, resembling a surfer, had positioned himself in the bedroom's corner, attentively observing you. His blue eyes, numbering at least a dozen, adorned his cheeks, forehead, and the backs of his hands.
<div id="centered">[[As if things couldn’t get any weirder.|Ch 5.02]]</div>Upon fully regaining consciousness, your surroundings appeared surprisingly normal, albeit notably more luxurious than you were accustomed to. Seated in a deck chair on an expansive porch, you surveyed a meadow stretching towards distant green hills. The breeze carried a delightful scent of strawberries. A blanket covered your legs, and a pillow provided support for your neck. Despite these comforts, an unpleasant sensation lingered—your mouth felt as if roaches had been using it as a vacation spot. Your tongue was parched and unpleasant, while each of your teeth throbbed with discomfort.
Beside you on the table rested a tall beverage resembling iced apple juice, completed with a green straw and a paper parasol piercing a maraschino cherry. Your hand was so weak you almost drop the glass once you got your fingers around it.
“Careful,” a familiar voice spoke up.
Grover was slouching against the porch railing, appearing as if he hadn’t slept in a week. Clutched under one arm was a shoe box. He sported blue jeans, Converse hi-tops, and a vibrant orange T-shirt with ‘CAMP HALF-BLOOD’ emblazoned across it. This was just your regular Grover, not the goat boy.
Perhaps it was just a bad dream. Your mom was likely fine. It was plausible that you just went on a lengthy drive and ended up at this big house for some reason. And . . .
“You saved my life,” Grover said. “I . . . well, the least I could do . . . I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this.”
With utmost reverence, he gently positioned the shoe box on your lap. Within, you discover a black-and-white bull’s horn, its base marked by jagged breaks, and the tip adorned with dried blood splatters.
So it hadn’t been a bad dream.
“The Minotaur,” you managed to say.
“Um, $nickname, it isn’t a good idea—”
*[['“Grover, I really don’t give a fuck about the superstitions around names right now.”'|Ch 5.03][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2, $option to 1]]
*[['“What, to say his name?” you demanded. “I really don’t care about that right now.”'|Ch 5.03][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2, $option to 1]]
*[['“That is what they call him in the Greek myths, right?” you demanded.'|Ch 5.03][$mischievous to $mischievous+2, $disciplined to $disciplined-2, $option to 2]]
*[['“That’s his name,” you said, ignoring him. “Half-man, half-bull.”'|Ch 5.03][$mischievous to $mischievous+2, $disciplined to $disciplined-2, $option to 3]]<<nobr>><<if $option is 1>>
Grover shifted uncomfortably, trying to change the subject. “You’ve been out for two days. How much do you remember?”
<<elseif $option is 2>>
Grover cleared his throat, trying to change the subject and ignoring your question. “You’ve been out for two days. How much do you remember?”
<<else>>
Grover gulped but he didn’t comment anything on you doubling down, instead he changed the subject. “You’ve been out for two days. How much do you remember?”
<</if>><</nobr>><<unset $option>>
“My mom. Is she really . . .”
He looked crushed and that was all the confirmation you needed.
Your gaze lingered over the meadow, taking in groves of trees, a meandering stream, and expansive acres of strawberries beneath the vast blue sky. The valley was embraced by rolling hills, with the tallest one directly ahead, crowned by a magnificent pine tree. Even in the sunlight, it all appeared remarkably beautiful.
Your mother was gone. The whole world should’ve been monotonous and cold. Nothing should’ve looked beautiful.
“I’m sorry,” Grover sniffled, wiping his eyes. “I’m a failure. I’m the worst satyr in the world.”
He let out a little cry, delivering a forceful stomp that caused his foot to detach. You didn’t know what you expected to happen but the Converse hi-top came off, revealing an interior filled with Styrofoam, except for a hollow shaped like a hoof.
“Oh, Styx!” he mumbled.
Thunder rolled across the clear sky.
As he struggled to get his hoof back in the fake foot, you thought, ‘Well, that settles it.’
Grover was a satyr. You were ready to bet a thousand bucks that if you shaved his curly brown hair, you’d find tiny horns on his head.
*[[But you were too miserable and panicked to even care that satyrs or even the freaking Minotaur existed.|Ch 5.04][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2, $option2 to 1]]
*[[Anger coursed through your veins. Anger at the Minotaur. Anger at whatever mess you were in now.|Ch 5.04][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2, $option2 to 1]]
*[[You tried your best to hold out hope that your mother was alive. Maybe there was a way you could bring her back?|Ch 5.04][$cheerful to $cheerful+2, $aggressive to $aggressive-2]]
*[[Steadying your breathing, you closed your eyes and counted to ten in order to calm yourself.|Ch 5.04][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option2 to 1]]<<if $option2 is 1>>Your mom really had been squeezed into nothingness, dissolved into golden light.<<else>>But you knew, ultimately, that you were only holding out hope just for the sake of it.
Your mom really had been squeezed into nothingness, dissolved into golden light.<</if>><<unset $option2>>
You found yourself isolated and utterly alone, an orphan facing the prospect of living with... Smelly Gabe? Absolutely not, that was out of the question. You’d sooner live on the streets. You would fake your age and enlist in the army or something. Anything but living with him.
Grover was still sniffling. The poor kid—poor goat, satyr, whatever—looked as if he was expecting you to unleash your grief and rage upon him.
You told him, “It wasn’t really your fault.”
“Yes, it was. I was supposed to protect you.”
“Did my mother ask you to protect me?”
“No. But that’s my job. I’m a keeper. At least . . . I was.”
“But why . . .” you suddenly felt dizzy when you tried to get up, your vision swimming. You remembered your roommate who had anemia and how they’d fall back at least once when they got up from bed in the mornings. You sincerely hoped you had enough iron in your body, the pills they took every day looked menacing enough.
“Don’t strain yourself,” Grover said gently. “Here.”
He assisted you in steadying your glass filled with the amber liquid and brought the straw to your lips. Your reaction was immediate, recoiling at the taste, as you had anticipated the flavor of apple juice. However, it turned out to be something entirely different. It resembled the taste of your mother's homemade . . .
*[[. . . chocolate-chip cookies.|Ch 5.05][$dessert to "chocolate-chip cookies"]]
*[[. . . strawberry-frosted cupcakes.|Ch 5.05][$dessert to "strawberry-frosted cupcakes"]]
*[[. . . vanilla-frosted cupcakes..|Ch 5.05][$dessert to "vanilla-frosted cupcakes."]]
*[[. . . cookies-and-cream ice-cream.|Ch 5.05][$dessert to "cookies-and-cream ice-cream"]]
*[[. . . chocolate ice-cream.|Ch 5.05][$dessert to "chocolate ice-cream"]]
*[[. . . blueberry pie.|Ch 5.05][$dessert to "blueberry pie"]]
*[[. . . peach pie.|Ch 5.05][$dessert to "peach pie"]]
*[[. . . apple pie.|Ch 5.05][$dessert to "apple pie"]]
*[[. . . pumpkin pie.|Ch 5.05][$dessert to "pumpkin pie"]]As you sipped the liquid, a warm and invigorating sensation enveloped your entire body. While your grief lingered, it was as if your mom had gently touched your cheek, offered you one of her homemade desserts just like she used to when you were younger, and assured you that everything would be alright.
Before you realized it, you had drained the glass.
“Was it good?” Grover asked and you nodded.
“What did it taste like?” He sounded so curious that you felt guilty about not saving him some.
“Sorry,” you said. “I should’ve left you some.”
His eyes went wide. “No! You don’t have to do that. I was... just wondering. Never mind that, how are you feeling?”
“Like I could throw Nancy Bobofit a hundred yards,” you replied with a small smile and playfully flexed your biceps.
“That’s good,” he said with a nod. “That’s good. Now then, I don’t think you could risk drinking any more of that stuff.”
You frowned. “What do you mean?”
He delicately took the empty glass from your grasp, treating it with caution as though it were dynamite, and carefully placed it back on the table. Just as he was about to speak, a very familiar voice reached your ears. A voice you could recognize anywhere.
“$firstname? Grover?”
<<liveblock>>*<<link "You almost fell over in shock. $A?" "Ch 5.06">><<set $option to 1>><</link>>
*<<link "Immediately you got up and wrapped $A up in a hug. $flirt_label" "Ch 5.06">><<set $A_romance to $A_romance+1; $option to 2>><</link>>
*<<link "So many questions filled up your head, but for now you just got up and greeted your best friend." "Ch 5.06">><<set $option to 3>><</link>>
*<<link "Either that drink had major hallucinogens in them, or your friend had also gotten wrapped up in whatever mess that was going on." "Ch 5.06">><<set $option to 4>><</link>>
*<<link 'A broad grin took over your face as you strode up to your best friend. “$A!”' "Ch 5.06">><<set $option to 5>><</link>><</liveblock>>/*[[Ch 5.06]]*/<<if $option is 1>>Before you could recover from the surprise, $A had already started to make $A_hisher way to you in order to wrap you up in a hug.
“God, I thought I was about to go crazy,” $A_heshe said as he pulled away smiling. “I’m so happy to see you here too.”<<elseif $option is 2>>$A let out a relieved laugh as $A_heshe hugged you back, almost softly deflating as $A_hisher pent-up anxieties were released.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” $A_heshe said while pulling away smiling, “but I’m glad to see you at least.”<<elseif $option is 3>>$A pulled you in a warm hug, looking relieved and happy to see you there.
“While I am glad to see you, I have so many questions,” you told $A_himher when you pulled away from the embrace.
$A sighed. “You and me both.”<<elseif $option is 4>>“Am I tripping balls or are you actually here?” you asked as you came forward to poke him.
$A grinned before answering your question by pulling you into a tight, warm hug. “I’m so happy you’re here, $nickname!”<<else>>“$nickname!” $A called back, pulling you into a warm hug as your previous anxiety lessened a little.
“I’m glad to have a familiar face around at least,” $A said when you pull away. “I feel like I’m losing my mind!”<</if>><<unset $option>>
Grover cleared his throat with a slightly sheepish smile. “I’m here too, y’know?”
$A grinned before turning to hug $A_hisher other best friend. “Come here, G-man!”
So the troublesome trio was finally reunited! Although you didn’t know why or how because $A was supposed to be at Queens right now, probably helping $A_hisher aunt Simone at their family-owned bar during the day.
After $A set Grover down, $A_heshe opened $A_hisher mouth to ask what you two were doing here, but the words died on $A_hisher tongue as $A_heshe realized Grover’s feet weren’t exactly feet.
“What the... Grover, why the hell do you have hooves?” $A asked, eyes wide in shock.
Grover cracked a small smile. “Guess you haven’t been here long.”
$A shook $A_hisher head. “I just woke up,” $A_heshe said.
“What happened?” you asked $A_himher, confused about why $A_heshe was here of all places. “How’d you end up here?”
$A scrunched $A_hisher nose up as he tried to recall the chain of events. “I don’t remember much. There was this huge guy with one eye who chased me across an alley after I picked up the parcel for my aunt.” $A_heshe shuddered before continuing. “He had me cornered, and I can’t explain how, but out of nowhere, this huge bronze donkey appeared and kicked him away. I was so exhausted and tired at that moment that I didn’t even bother questioning the oddity of everything, especially after encountering the one-eyed man. Then, surprisingly, the donkey picked me up and brought me here.”
“Wait, you rode on a donkey?” you asked with a hint of a smile.
$A huffed. “It was made of bronze, mind you. The craftsmanship was very good.”
“You were attacked by a Cyclops?!” Grover squeaked out. “I was informed that you had arrived before I went to get $firstname but I didn’t realize it was this bad!”
*[[Considering what you had witnessed in the last few weeks, you weren’t even fazed anymore.|Ch 5.07][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2]]
*<<link "Great, and here you were trying to ignore the obvious red flag from $A’s story." "Ch 5.07">><<set $mischievous to $mischievous+2; $disciplined to $disciplined-2>><</link>>
*[[As if this day couldn’t get any worse, now you had one-eyed giants to worry about.|Ch 5.07][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2]]
*[[Wasn’t this the same guy who told you that you shouldn’t say monsters’ names out loud?|Ch 5.07][$disciplined to $disciplined+2, $mischievous to $mischievous-2]]
*<<link "The important thing was that $A’s safe. You all were, at least for now." "Ch 5.07">><<set $cheerful to $cheerful+2; $aggressive to $aggressive-2>><</link>>/*[[Ch 5.07]]*/“They’re myths, Grover,” $A scoffed.
“Then how do you explain this,” Grover pointed to his hooves. $A hesitated but $A_heshe didn’t have an answer to that and eventually just slumped in quiet resignation.
“What about you guys?” $A_heshe asked after a while of awkward silence. “How did you end up here? What happened?”
Grover told $A_himher the story of your journey—how Grover had found you and your mom at your apartment in Manhattan, how a Minotaur had hunted you all the way to the camp, how your mom . . .
$A looked shocked, sadness coating $A_hisher features. Your mom had always been kind to $A_himher, sending $A_himher snacks and baked goods alongside your share and welcoming $A_himher home whenever $A_heshe visited during the holidays.
“I’m so sorry, $firstname,” $A_heshe whispered.
You sniffled quietly as you hugged the shoebox in your arms closer to your chest. $A understood that asking into it too much would just cause you to break down, so $A_heshe kept $A_hisher thoughts to $A_himself and just stood beside you in silent support.
“Come on,” Grover coaxed you two softly. “Chiron and Mr. D. are waiting. They’re going to want to hear about what happened to both of you.”
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 5.08">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 5.08]]*/<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>>The porch wrapped all the way around the farmhouse. Your legs felt wobbly, trying to walk that far. As you came around the opposite end of the house, you caught your breath.
$A offered to carry the Minotaur horn along the way, but you held on to it. You’d paid for that souvenir the hard way. You weren’t going to let it go like that.
You hadn’t pondered much about where your location was, but now it became evident that you must have been on the north shore of Long Island. On this side of the house, the valley stretched all the way to Long Island Sound, shimmering in the distance. However, the sights between your current position and the distant shoreline left you struggling to comprehend what lay before you.
The landscape was adorned with structures resembling ancient Greek architecture—an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena—yet, they all gleamed as if freshly constructed, with their white marble columns sparkling in the sunlight. In a nearby sandpit, a group of high school-age kids and satyrs engaged in a spirited game of volleyball. Canoes gracefully glided across a small lake. Children, donned in vibrant orange T-shirts similar to Grover’s, playfully chased each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some took aim at targets in an archery range, while others rode horses along a wooded trail. Unless your eyes were deceiving you (wouldn’t be the first time), some of their horses seemed to have wings.
Down at the far end of the porch, two men occupied seats across from each other at a card table. Two kids around your age leaned on the porch rail beside them. A faint tug in your memory suggested that you’d encountered them before.
The man facing you was short and stout, with a red nose, large watery eyes, and curls of hair so dark they bordered on purple. He resembled those depictions of baby angels—what were they called again? Hubbubs? No, cherubs. That’s right. He looked like an aged cherub now residing in a trailer park, shouting at kids to stay off his non-existent lawn. Donned in a tiger-patterned Hawaiian shirt, he could easily blend into one of your stepfather’s poker parties. However, you sensed that this man could out-gamble even Smelly Gabe.
“That’s Mr. D,” Grover murmured to you. “He’s the camp director. Be polite with him. The blonde $M_guy, that’s $M Newton. The $V_guy with the black hair is $V Valentine. They’re both campers, and have been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron . . .”
He pointed at the guy whose back was to you.
First, you realized that he was sitting in a wheelchair. Then you recognized the tweed jacket, the thinning brown hair, the scraggly beard.
<div id="centered">[['“Mr. Brunner!” you cried out in surprise.'|Ch 5.09]]</div>The Latin teacher turned and grinned at everyone. His eyes sparkled with that familiar mischievous glint from your Latin classes when he’d spring a pop quiz and made all the multiple-choice answers B.
“Ah! Good, $firstname, $A,” he said, clasping his hands together. “Now we have enough for pinochle.”
He gestured for you to sit down in the three empty chairs on either side of the table.
Mr. D. looked at you with a bored expression, his eyes bloodshot, and heaved a weary sigh. “Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. Blah blah blah. Now don’t expect me to be glad to see you.”
“Charming,” $A muttered, taking the seat away from him.
You gave him a betrayed look, albeit a little half-hearted one before sitting in the available seat closer to Mr. D. After that, you tried to scoot a bit farther away from him because, if there was one thing you had learned from living with Smelly Gabe, it was how to tell when an adult had been hitting the happy juice. If Mr. D was a stranger to alcohol, you were a satyr.
“$M? $V?” Mr. Brunner called out to the two <<if $M_gender is "Male" and $V_gender is "Male">>boys<<elseif $M_gender is "Female" and $V_gender is "Female">>girls<<else>>kids<</if>>.
The blonde one came forward eagerly, the other one lagging behind with a bored expression. Mr. Brunner introduced you. “These two nursed you both back to health. And they also got you to the infirmary after your collapse, $firstname. $M, why don’t you go check on their bunks? We’ll be putting them in cabin eleven for now. $V, perhaps you can get them some change of clothes from the camp store?”
$V shrugged $V_hisher assent while $M nodded and said, “Sure, Chiron.”
<<nobr>><<if $height is "very tall">>
They were both in similar height, but the quieter one was taller by about an inch or two. That still didn’t mean that you didn’t have to look down a lot to hold their gazes due to your towering height.
<<elseif $height is "tall">>
They were both in similar height, but the quieter one was taller by about an inch or two. You had to look down a little to hold their gazes and it made them a little less intimidating.
<<elseif $height is "average">>
They were both in similar height, but the quieter one was taller by about an inch or two. You were all around the same height so it made holding their gazes a lot easier.
<<elseif $height is "short">>
They were both in similar height, but the quieter one was taller by about an inch or two. You had to look up a bit to actually hold their gazes, it didn’t help how they kinda intimidated you.
<<elseif $height is "very short">>
They were both in similar height, but the quieter one was taller by about an inch or two. You had to crane your neck a little to look up at them and that didn’t lessen your wariness about them.<</if>><</nobr>>
The blonde $M_guy had an athletic figure, with warm brown skin and curly blonde hair with dark brown roots styled in dreadlocks. $M_HisHer eyes were a startling gray, like gunmetal; pretty but sharp, as if $M_heshe was constantly analyzing how best to come out the victor of any sort of interaction. You’d have assumed $M_heshe was a surfer from the West Coast if $M_hisher intimidating gaze didn’t throw you off.
The $V_guy with the jet black hair, on the other hand, had $V_hisher straight hair left loose and <<if $V_gender is "Male">>short<<elseif $V_gender is "Female">>down to her chest<</if>> with not a single strand out of place. $V_HisHer light green eyes were the color of peridot, as if they were carved from the gemstones themselves. There was a shimmering sort of glow about $V_himher, and the completely disinterested look on $V_hisher face only exemplified $V_hisher effortless beauty.
Two pairs of eyes flickered down to the minotaur horn in your hands, then back at you. You imagined they were going to say, You killed a minotaur! or Wow, you’re so awesome! or something along those lines.
Instead of any of that, the blonde one, $M, quickly sprinted off to the cabins in the distance without giving you a backward glance.
The one whose name was $V, on the other hand, lingered just long enough to say: “You should work on closing your mouth when you sleep.” And with that $V_heshe strode away too.
<<liveblock>>*<<link "What was up with those two? Is it //‘Let’s be rude to $firstname’// day?" "Ch 5.10">><<set $aggressive to $aggressive+2; $cheerful to $cheerful-2>><</link>>
*<<link "You guess that wasn’t the worst reaction people have had to meeting you." "Ch 5.10">><<set $calm to $calm+2; $hyper to $hyper-2>><</link>>
*<<link "You were just glad that those two didn’t try to kill you or something." "Ch 5.10">><<set $cheerful to $cheerful+2; $aggressive to $aggressive-2>><</link>>
*<<link "You huffed internally, why was almost everyone a jerk these days?" "Ch 5.10">><<set $disciplined to $disciplined+2; $mischievous to $mischievous-2>><</link>>
*<<link "Stand-offish //and// good-looking? That blondie seemed to be exactly your type. $flirt_label" "Ch 5.10">><<set $M_romance to $M_romance+1>><</link>>
*<<link "Damn okay, the black-haired beauty had gotten hold of your attention. $flirt_label" "Ch 5.10">><<set $V_romance to $V_romance+1>><</link>>
*<<link "You felt a slight ache in your chest. You wanted $M to at least talk to you. $flirt_label" "Ch 5.10">><<set $M_romance to $M_romance+1>><</link>>
*<<link "You felt your cheeks go red in embarrassment. You had hoped to make a better impression on $V. $flirt_label" "Ch 5.10">><<set $V_romance to $V_romance+1>><</link>><</liveblock>>/*[[Ch 5.10]]*/$A snorted in amusement and tried to stifle $A_hisher laugh when you shot $A_himher a light glare. Well, that could’ve gone better.
“So,” you said, desperate to change the subject. “Uh, Mr. Brunner, you have a part-time job here?”
“Not Mr. Brunner,” the ex–Mr. Brunner said. “I’m afraid that was a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad to see you both alive and well.”
“Okay, thank you?” Totally confused, you turned to the director. “And Mr. D . . . does that stand for something?”
Mr. D stopped shuffling the cards. He looked at you like you’d just belched loudly. “Names are powerful things, $kid. You don’t just go around using them for no reason.”
“Oh, right. Silly me.”
“$A, I must ask,” not-Mr. Brunner said, taking the spotlight off of you, “how did you get to camp? One of the camp healers, Carter Yang, told me he found you in the woods by the camp border, unconscious. Did someone drop you off?”
“This might sound crazy, but it was a bronze donkey,” $A_heshe explained. “Or at least a bronze automaton in the form of a donkey. It saved me from a Cyclops. Then it... I don’t know, teleported or something? I don’t really know what happened.”
$A looked to be expecting Chiron to stare at $A_himher like $A_heshe was crazy. But the fake Latin teacher’s expression was thoughtful, looking at Mr. D for a moment.
“And this . . . donkey automaton,” Mr. D said, his voice gruff as he addressed $A. “It appeared when you were in trouble and carried you all the way here?”
$A_heshe shrugged $A_hisher shoulders. “It seems like it. But don’t take my word for it. What’s more is that I even hallucinated blasting the Cyclops with fire from my hands, but it didn’t really affect him.”
Chiron’s eyes widened at the additional information. Mr. D studied $A_himher closely, making $A_himher shift uncomfortably under his bloodshot gaze.
“Chiron told me you’re an orphan,” he said crassly. “Raised by your aunt and grandparents. Have any idea about your parents? No keepsakes or fuzzy memories?”
$A leaned even more away from Mr. D. “My mother died when I was young,” $A_heshe mumbled, strangely quiet. “I never knew my father.”
“What was that?” Mr. D asked nasally. “Speak up, young $A_man.”
*[['“Hey, mind your own business, will you?” you said, glaring at the camp director.'|Ch 5.11][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2]]
*<<link '“$A_heshe doesn’t have to tell you anything,” you spoke up for your best friend.' "Ch 5.11">><<set $cheerful to $cheerful+2; $aggressive to $aggressive-2>><</link>>
*<<link '“Dude, why does it even matter?!” you said, feeling protective over $A_himher.' "Ch 5.11">><<set $hyper to $hyper+2; $calm to $calm-2>><</link>>
*[['“I think that’s enough interrogation for today,” you said, coldly calm.'|Ch 5.11][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2]]
*<<link '“Sir, please lay off of $A_himher,” you told Mr. D, polite but also firm.' "Ch 5.11">><<set $disciplined to $disciplined+2; $mischievous to $mischievous-2>><</link>>
*<<link "You placed your hand in $A_hishers for support, holding on tightly. $flirt_label" "Ch 5.11">><<set $A_romance to $A_romance+1>><</link>>“I must say, $firstname,” Chiron broke in with a forced smile that did nothing to convince you that he was actually happy, “I’m glad everything turned out well. It’s been a long time since I’ve made a house call to a potential camper in a school for mortals. I’d hate to think I’d wasted my time.”
“House call?”
“During my tenure at Lincoln Charter Academy, my purpose was to guide you. While most schools have satyrs to keep a watchful eye, Grover informed me immediately upon meeting you. He sensed there was something extraordinary about you, prompting my decision to journey upstate. I managed to persuade the other Latin teacher to... take a leave of absence.”
You attempted to recall the start of the school year. It felt like ages ago, but there was a hazy recollection of another Latin teacher during your first week at Lincoln Charter. Then, without any explanation, he had vanished, and Mr. Brunner had assumed the role in the class.
“You came to Lincoln Charter just to teach me?” you asked, surprised.
Chiron nodded. “To be honest, I had reservations about you initially. We reached out to your mother, informing her that we were keeping a close watch on you in case you were prepared for Camp Half-Blood. However, there was still much for you to grasp. Nevertheless, you managed to arrive here alive, and that’s always the first test.”
“Let’s not rush to judgement, Chiron,” Mr. D sniffed in an annoyed manner, “you may yet to discover that the $kid is a disappointment.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Chiron smiled beatifically. “Like I said, Grover sensed something special in $himher.”
“A ringing endorsement, that’s for sure,” Mr. D said sarcastically before turning to Grover. “Are you playing or not?”
“Yes, sir!” Grover trembled as he took the last empty chair between you and Mr. D, though you didn’t know why he had to be so afraid of a pudgy little man in a tiger-print Hawaiian shirt.
“Do either of you know how to play pinochle?” the camp director asked, eyeing $A and you with something akin to suspicion.
“Not really,” $A replied for the both of you.
“Not really, sir,” he corrected him.
“Sir,” $A_heshe repeated, annoyance written plainly on $A_hisher face.
*[[Great, another adult bully who never grew out of his childish immaturity.|Ch 5.12][$disciplined to $disciplined+2, $mischievous to $mischievous-2]]
*<<link "And //this// guy is supposed to be the camp director?" "Ch 5.12">><<set $mischievous to $mischievous+2; $disciplined to $disciplined-2>><</link>>
*[[You were liking the camp director less and less every second.|Ch 5.12][$cheerful to $cheerful+2, $aggressive to $aggressive-2]]
*<<link "Holy shit, you //hate// this guy!" "Ch 5.12">><<set $aggressive to $aggressive+2; $cheerful to $cheerful-2>><</link>>
*[[You took a deep breath and tried to keep calm.|Ch 5.12][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2]]“Well,” the director said, “for the uninformed”—he looked pointedly at you and $A—“pinochle is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by humans. I would expect all civilized individuals to know the rules.”
“Well, sorry for not being civilized enough for you,” $A muttered.
“I’m sure the kids can learn,” Chiron spoke amicably.
“Please,” you said, “what is this place? What am I doing here? Mr. Brun— Chiron—why would you go to Lincoln Charter Academy just to teach me?”
Mr. D snorted as he resumed shuffling the deck, handling the thin, rectangular pieces of paper with experienced ease. “I asked the same question.”
The portly camp director dealt the cards. Grover flinched every time one landed in his pile.
Chiron offered you a kind smile, reminiscent of the expressions he used to wear in Latin class. It conveyed the assurance that, regardless of your academic performance, you were his star student. He anticipated that you would always have the correct answer.
“$firstname,” he said. “Did your mother tell you nothing?”
“She said...” you remembered her sad eyes, the distant gaze she had. “She told me she was afraid to send me here, even though my father had wanted her to. She said that once I was here, I probably couldn’t leave. She wanted to keep me close to her.”
“Typical,” Mr. D. said in a bored tone. “That's how they usually get killed. Young $A_man, are you bidding or not?”
“Huh?” $A asked smartly.
Mr. D explained, impatiently, how you bid in pinochle, and so your best friend followed his instructions.
“I’m afraid there’s too much to tell,” Chiron said. “I don’t expect that our usual orientation film will be sufficient.”
“Orientation film?” you asked.
“No,” Chiron decided by himself. “Well, $firstname, you’re aware that your friend Grover is a satyr. You know,” he gestured towards the horn in the shoe box, “that you’ve defeated the Minotaur. Quite an impressive accomplishment, my child. What you might not be aware of is that significant forces are at play in your life. The gods—what you refer to as the Greek gods—are very much active.”
You stared at the others around the table.
*<<link "You waited for somebody to yell, //Not!//, so you could pretend that this isn’t happening." "Ch 5.13">><<set $disciplined to $disciplined+2; $mischievous to $mischievous-2; $option to 1>><</link>>
*<<link "Were you getting //Punk’d//? Was Ashton Kutcher gonna jump out any second?" "Ch 5.13">><<set $hyper to $hyper+2; $calm to $calm-2; $option to 2>><</link>>
*[[Well, that settled it. Either you’d actually gone crazy or you were just in a wild dream.|Ch 5.13][$mischievous to $mischievous+2, $disciplined to $disciplined-2, $option to 3]]
*[[Maybe the Minotaur fight knocked a few screws loose in your head but you feel strangely calm.|Ch 5.13][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option to 4]]<<nobr>><<if $option is 1>>
You scanned the surroundings, searching for any sign that they were all part of an elaborate prank. However, the only sound you heard was Mr. D yelling, “Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!” He tallied up his points with a cackle that bordered on crazed.
<<elseif $option is 2>>
You’d be willing to tolerate being unknowingly filmed for a reality show if it meant this was all just a prank. However, all you got was Mr. D yelling, “Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!” He tallied up his points with a cackle that bordered on crazed.
<<elseif $option is 3>>
Maybe you should’ve just used that discount code of the online therapy site you got from that Youtuber. Mr. D suddenly yelled, “Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!” He tallied up his points with a cackle that bordered on crazed.
<<else>>
Everything started to make a lot of sense, to the point that you wondered if you’re actually going off the rails. Mr. D suddenly yelled, “Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!” He tallied up his points with a cackle that bordered on crazed.
<</if>><</nobr>><<unset $option>>
“Mr. D,” Grover asked in a meek voice, “if you’re not going to eat it, could I have your Diet Coke can?”
“Eh? Oh, all right.”
The empty aluminum can made a metallic crackling noise as Grover bit a huge shard out of it and chewed mournfully.
“Wait,” $A spoke up. “You’re telling me there’s such a thing as God. Like in the Bible?”
“Well, now,” Chiron said. “God—capital G, God. That’s a different matter altogether. We shan’t deal with the metaphysical.”
“Metaphysical? But you were just talking about—”
“Ah, gods, plural, as in, great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors: the immortal gods of Olympus. That’s a smaller matter.”
“Smaller?”
“Yes, quite. The gods we discussed in Latin class.”
You were surprised at how easily their names came to you. “Zeus. Hera. Apollo. You mean them.”
And there it was again—distant thunder on a cloudless day.
“Kid,” Mr. D said in an exasperated tone, “I would really be less casual about throwing those names around, if I were you.”
“But they’re just myths,” $A bulldozed on, ignoring him. “Stories that were made up to explain lightning and the seasons and stuff before science was a thing.”
“Science!” Mr. D scoffed. “And tell me, $A $A_middle Moreau”—your best friend flinched when Mr. D used his full government name, which even you had never known until now—“what will people think of your ‘science’ two thousand years from now, hm? They will call it primitive mumbo jumbo. That’s what.” He let out a mocking laugh. “Oh, I love mortals—they have absolutely no sense of perspective. They think they’ve come so far. And have they, Chiron? Look at this $A_person and tell me.”
*[[The way he referred to people as ‘mortal’ made you uneasy, as if . . . he wasn’t.|Ch 5.14]]
*<<link "What did he mean by that? Was //he// not mortal?" "Ch 5.14">><</link>>
*[[Somebody needed to knock this guy off his high pedestal.|Ch 5.14]]
*[[The ego on him must’ve been high enough to reach the moon and back.|Ch 5.14]]
*<<link "You stopped listening halfway through, too busy trying not to crack up at $A’s middle name." "Ch 5.14">><</link>>Grover was dutifully minding his cards, chewing his soda can, and keeping his mouth shut.
“Children,” Chiron said, “you may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that immortal means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?”
You were about to answer, off the top of your head, that it didn’t sound that bad, but the tone of Chiron’s voice made you hesitate.
“You mean, whether people believed in you or not,” you said, piecing together the puzzle in your head.
“Looks like you have some brains after all,” Mr. D said, peering at you. “If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you, $firstname $surname, that someday people would call you a myth, just created to explain how little kids can get over losing their mothers?”
Your heart raced, and a scowl formed on your face. It seemed like he was intentionally trying to provoke you, but you were determined not to let him succeed. You said, “While I wouldn’t like it, I don’t know if I can fully believe in gods.”
“Oh, you’d better,” Mr. D murmured. “Before one of them incinerates you.”
Grover bleated in a slightly panicked tone, “P-please, sir. $HeShe’<<ve>> just lost $hisher mother. $HeShe’<<re>> in shock.”
“A lucky thing, too,” Mr. D grumbled, playing a card. “Bad enough I’m confined to this miserable job, working with brats who don’t even believe!”
With a wave of his hand, a goblet materialized on the table, as if the sunlight had momentarily bent and woven the air into glass. The goblet then filled itself with red wine.
*[[Your jaw dropped. How the hell did he do that?!|Ch 5.15][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2]]
*[[Every passing second was testing the limits of your sanity.|Ch 5.15][$disciplined to $disciplined+2, $mischievous to $mischievous-2]]
*[[Right, this was perfectly normal. As normal as it could be these days.|Ch 5.15][$mischievous to $mischievous+2, $disciplined to $disciplined-2]]
*[[You pinched yourself to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep.|Ch 5.15][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2]]
*[[You didn’t even have the energy to question this anymore.|Ch 5.15][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2]]“Mr. D,” Chiron warned, “remember your restrictions.”
Mr. D glanced at the wine and feigned surprise.
“Dear me.” He looked up at the sky and yelled, “Old habits! Sorry!” More thunder.
Mr. D waved his hand once more, and the wineglass transformed into a fresh can of Diet Coke. He sighed discontentedly, popped the top of the soda, and returned to his card game.
Chiron winked at you and $A conspiratorially. “Mr. D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits.”
“A wood nymph,” $A repeated, staring at the Diet Coke can like it had dropped from outer space.
“Yes,” Mr. D confessed. “Oh how father loves to punish me. The first time, Prohibition. Ghastly! Absolutely horrid ten years! The second time—well, she really was pretty, and you know how things progress when the wine is flowing—the second time, he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. A summer camp to run for brats like you. ‘Be a better influence,’ he told me. ‘Work with youths rather than tearing them down.’ Ha! Absolutely unfair.”
Mr. D was acting like he was six years old, like a pouting little kid.
“And...” you stammered, “your father is...”
“<<hovertip 'Oh my gods'>>//O theoí mou//<</hovertip>>, Chiron,” Mr. D said, mildly surprised. “I thought you taught these kids the basics. My father is Zeus, of course.”
You mentally listed all the D names from Greek mythology based on all the clues you had gathered about this guy: Wine. The skin of a tiger. The satyrs who all appeared to be employed here. You noticed the way Grover cringed, as if Mr. D were his master.
“You’re Dionysus,” you concluded. “The god of wine.”
Mr. D rolled his eyes. “What do they say these days, Grover? Do the brats say, ‘Well, duh!’?”
“Y-yes, Mr. D.”
“Then, well, duh! $firstname $surname. Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?”
“Clearly not,” $A mumbled in-between fake coughs.
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 5.16">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 5.16]]*/“You’re a god,” you asked skeptically.
“Yes, child.”
“A god. You.”
He turned to face you directly, and you witnessed a purplish fire in his eyes, a hint that this whiny and stout little man was revealing only a fraction of his true nature. Visions flashed before you—grape vines strangling unbelievers to death, warriors driven mad by battle lust, sailors shrieking as their hands transformed into flippers and their faces elongated into dolphin snouts. It dawned on you that if you provoked him, Mr. D would unveil even more horrifying things. He could instill an ailment in your brain, leaving you confined in a straitjacket within a rubber room for the rest of your life.
“Would you like to test me, child?” he said, dangerously quiet.
“No. No, sir.”
The fire died a little. He turned back to his card game. “I believe I win.”
“Not quite, Mr. D,” Chiron said. He set down a straight, tallied the points, and said, “The game goes to me.”
You thought that Mr. D might simply vaporize Chiron right out of his wheelchair, but he only sighed through his nose, as if accustomed to being outsmarted by the Latin teacher. Rising from his seat, he was followed by Grover who also stood up.
“I’m tired,” Mr. D announced. “I believe I’ll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first, Grover, we need to talk, again, about your less-than-perfect performance on this assignment.”
Grover’s face beaded with sweat. “Y-yes, sir.”
Mr. D turned to you and $A. “Cabin eleven, you two. And mind your manners.”
He swept into the farmhouse, Grover following miserably.
*[['“What an ass,” you scowled at where he was previously sitting.'|Ch 5.17][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2]]
*[['“Will Grover be okay?” you asked Chiron, worried for your friend.'|Ch 5.17][$cheerful to $cheerful+2, $aggressive to $aggressive-2]]
*[['“Is Dionysus always like this?” you asked Chiron, annoyed at the wine god.'|Ch 5.17][$mischievous to $mischievous+2, $disciplined to $disciplined-2]]
*[['You shuddered. “I really don’t envy Grover’s position right now.”'|Ch 5.17][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2]]<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>>Chiron nodded, though he looked a bit troubled. “Old Dionysus isn’t really angry. He just hates his job. He’s been... ah, grounded, I guess as mortals might say, and he can’t stand waiting another century before he’s allowed to go back to Olympus.”
“Mount Olympus,” you said. “You’re telling me there really is a palace there?”
“Well, you have Mount Olympus in Greece. And then there’s the gods’ residence, the focal point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still referred to as Mount Olympus, as a nod to the old traditions, but the palace moves, $firstname, just like the gods themselves.”
“You mean the Greek gods are here? Like in America?”
“Well, certainly. The gods move with the heart of the West.”
You look at $A, as if $A_heshe might understand what Chiron was talking about. When $A_heshe meets your bewildered look with one of $A_hisher own, you look back at Chiron. "The what?"
“Come now, $firstname. What you refer to as ‘Western civilization.’ Do you believe it’s merely an abstract concept? No, it’s a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned brightly for thousands of years. The gods are connected to it. One might even argue they are its source, or at the very least, they are so closely intertwined that they couldn’t possibly diminish unless all of Western civilization were obliterated. The flame ignited in Greece. Afterward, as you’re likely aware—or I hope you’re aware, having successfully completed my course—the heart of the flame shifted to Rome, and so did the gods. Oh, they may have had different names—Jupiter for Zeus, Venus for Aphrodite, and so forth—but the same forces, the same gods persisted.”
“And then they died?” you asked, a little too hopefully.
“Died? No. Did the West die? The gods merely relocated—to Germany, to France, to Spain, for a while. Wherever the flame burned brightest, the gods were present. They spent numerous centuries in England. You only need to examine the architecture. People don’t forget the gods. Across every realm they’ve governed for the past three thousand years, you can observe them in paintings, in statues, on the most significant structures. And yes, $firstname, they are undoubtedly in your United States now. Look at your symbol, the eagle of Zeus. Consider the statue of Prometheus in Rockefeller Center, the Greek-inspired facades of your government buildings in Washington. I challenge you to identify any American city where the Olympians aren’t prominently featured in multiple places. Like it or not—and trust me, many people weren’t very fond of Rome, either—America now stands as the heart of the flame. It is the predominant power of the West. Hence, Olympus is here. And we are here.”
It was all too much to wrap your head around, especially the fact that you and $A seemed to be included in Chiron’s we, as if you were part of some exclusive club.
<div id="centered"><<link '“Who are you, Chiron?” $A asked. $A_HeShe looked at you, then back at the ex-Latin teacher. “Who... who are we?”' "Ch 5.18">><</link>></div>/*[[Ch 5.18]]*/Chiron smiled. He shifted his weight as if he was going to get up out of his wheelchair, but you knew that was impossible. He was paralyzed from the waist down.
“Who are you?” he mused. “Well, that’s the question we all want answered, isn’t it? But for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s’mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate.”
Then, he indeed rose from his wheelchair, but there was something peculiar about the manner in which he did so. The blanket slipped away from his legs, yet the legs remained motionless. His midsection kept elongating, extending above his belt. Initially, you assumed he was wearing an exceptionally long pair of rich brown velvet underwear, but as he continued rising from the chair—now towering over any man—you realized that the velvet wasn’t underwear; it was the front of an animal, muscles and sinew beneath coarse brown fur. And the wheelchair wasn’t a chair. It was some form of container—an enormous wheeled box. It must’ve been enchanted, for there was no conceivable way it could contain all of him. A leg emerged, lengthy and knobby-kneed, adorned with a massive polished hoof. Then another front leg, followed by hindquarters, and suddenly the box was vacant—a mere metal shell with a pair of artificial human legs attached.
$A made a noise in $A_hisher throat like $A_heshe was dying and you simply stared at the horse who had just sprung from the wheelchair: a huge brown stallion. But where its neck should’ve been was the upper body of your Latin teacher, smoothly grafted to the horse’s trunk.
“What a relief,” the centaur sighed. “I’d been cooped up in there so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now, come, you two. Let’s meet the other campers.”
<h2>[[END OF CHAPTER 5|Ch 6.00]]</h2><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>><<set $chapter to "CHAPTER 6">><div class="chapter-number"><span>$chapter</span></div>
<<set $chaptertitle = "⚡️ THE UNOFFICIAL WELCOME COMMITTEE IS NOT VERY WELCOMING ⚡️">><div class="chapter-title"><span>$chaptertitle</span></div>
<center><div class="content-warning"><span><b>CONTENT WARNINGS:</b> violence, mentions of death & murder</span></div></center>\
<<nobr>><div class="choicetable">
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 6.01">><</button>></span>
</div><</nobr>>/*[[Ch 6.01]]*/Once you had managed to come to terms with the fact that your Latin teacher was a horse, the tour was enjoyable, albeit with the precaution of not walking behind him. Though you had complete faith in his front half, you couldn’t bring yourself to extend the same level of trust to his back end after having experienced pooper-scooper duty in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.
As your little tour group passed by the volleyball pit, several of the campers nudged each other. One pointed to the minotaur horn you were carrying. Another said, “That’s $himher.”
<<if $extroverted gt $introverted>>The majority of the campers were around your age or older, although there were a few who appeared to be in middle school. Their satyr companions, larger than Grover, moved about in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts, leaving their shaggy hindquarters exposed. You’d never been a particularly reserved person, but the way they gazed at you made you uneasy. It felt as though they were anticipating you to perform a somersault off a cliff or something along those lines.<<else>>The majority of the campers were around your age or older, although there were a few who appeared to be in middle school. Their satyr companions, larger than Grover, moved about in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts, leaving their shaggy hindquarters exposed. You’d never liked being the center of attention, and the way they were staring at you made your skin crawl. You felt like they were expecting you to do a somersault off a cliff or something.<</if>>
You turned your gaze back to the farmhouse. It was much larger than you had initially thought—four stories high, sky blue with white trim, resembling an upscale seaside resort. While examining the brass eagle weather vane on the roof, your attention was drawn to something that caught your eye—a shadow in the highest window of the attic gable. The curtain had shifted for just a moment, giving you the unmistakable feeling that you were being watched.
“What’s up there?” you asked Chiron. $A looked in the direction you were pointing to with a curious expression.
Chiron’s smile faded. “Just the attic.”
“Does anybody live there?” $A asked.
“No,” he said with finality. “Not a single living thing.”
*[[Well, that wasn’t ominous at all.|Ch 6.02]]
*[[You wondered if Chiron was telling the truth in a vague way.|Ch 6.02]]
*[[Did he have any idea how many loopholes were in his answer?|Ch 6.02]]
*[[You lost interest after that pretty quickly.|Ch 6.02]]
*[[Ooh, another flying horse!|Ch 6.02]]You walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.
Chiron told you that the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus. “It pays our expenses,” he explained. “And the strawberries take almost no effort.”
He clarified that Mr. D had a peculiar influence on fruit-bearing plants—they simply thrived when he was in close proximity. Although this effect was most potent with wine grapes, Mr. D was prohibited from cultivating them, so instead, they opted for growing strawberries.
You watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music prompted lines of bugs to scatter from the strawberry patch in every direction, resembling refugees escaping a fire. You pondered on whether Grover possessed the ability to wield such magical influence with his music. A question lingered about whether he was still inside the farmhouse, getting chewed out by Mr. D.
“Grover won’t get in too much trouble, will he?” you asked Chiron. “I mean . . . he was a good protector. Really.”
Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horse’s back like a saddle. “Grover has big dreams, $firstname. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing them safely to Half-Blood Hill.”
*[['“But he did that!”'|Ch 6.03][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2]]
*[['“And was bringing me here not enough?”'|Ch 6.03][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2]]
*[['“He technically brought me here though.”'|Ch 6.03][$disciplined to $disciplined+2, $mischievous to $mischievous-2]]“I might agree with you,” Chiron said, consolingly. “However, it is not within my purview to pass judgment. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must make that decision. I fear they might not view this mission in a positive light. After all, Grover only discovered $A’s half-blood status a few weeks ago. He also lost track of you in New York, $firstname. Then there’s the unfortunate... fate of your mother. The fact that Grover was unconscious when you crossed the property line might lead the council to question whether it demonstrates any courage on Grover’s part.”
You and $A shared a guilty glance. If you two hadn’t given Grover the slip at the bus station, he might not have gotten in trouble.
$A looked distraught for $A_hisher friend. “He’ll get a second chance, won’t he?”
Chiron winced. “I’m afraid that was Grover’s second chance, $A. The council was not too keen to give him another, either, after what happened the first time, five years ago. Olympus knows, I advised him to wait longer before trying again. He’s still so small for his age...”
“How old is he?” $A asked, curious.
“Oh, twenty-eight.”
“What! And he’s in ninth grade?”
*[['“We’ve been going to high school with a whole ass adult this whole time?!”'|Ch 6.04][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2]]
*[['“He’s old enough to be a teacher at Lincoln Charter!”'|Ch 6.04][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2]]
*[['“Ha ha! Very funny, Chiron.”'|Ch 6.04][$mischievous to $mischievous+2, $disciplined to $disciplined-2]]
*[[You just stared at Chiron with your jaw on the floor.|Ch 6.04][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2]]“Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, $firstname,” Chiron explained. “Grover has been the equivalent of a high school student for the past couple years.”
“Yikes.” $A winced. You were inclined to agree with $A_himher. You barely survived your freshman year of high school, doing it over and over again would’ve made you end up wishing that Mrs. Dodds had killed you right then and there.
“At any rate,” Chiron said, “Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyr standards, and not yet very accomplished at woodland magic. Alas, he was anxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now he will find some other career...”
“That’s not fair,” you attempted to argue. “What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?”
Chiron avoided your gaze. “Let’s move along, shall we?”
Yet, you weren’t quite prepared to move on from the topic. When Chiron discussed your mother’s fate, carefully avoiding the word “death,” a realization struck you. The seeds of an idea—a tiny, hopeful spark—began to take shape in your mind.
“Chiron,” you started slowly. “If the gods and Olympus and all that are real...”
“Yes, child?”
“Does that mean the Underworld is real, too?”
Chiron’s expression darkened.
<<if $godlyparent is "Hades">>“Yes, child,” he acknowledged, pausing as if selecting his words with care. You might have imagined it, but you believe his gaze scrutinized you intensely for a moment before he averted his eyes. “There is a realm where spirits go after death. However, for the time being, until we have more information... I would advise you to set that aside in your thoughts.”<<else>>“Yes, child,” he acknowledged, pausing as if selecting his words with care. “There is a realm where spirits go after death. However, for the time being, until we have more information... I would advise you to set that aside in your thoughts.”<</if>>
“What do you mean, ‘until we have more information’?”
“Come on,” Chiron said, electing to ignore your question. “Let’s see the woods.”
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 6.05">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 6.05]]*/As you approached, you recoiled at the true enormity of the forest. It occupied at least a quarter of the valley, boasting trees so tall and dense that it was challenging to fathom any human even being aware of its existence. It was like a lumberjack’s paradise, or perhaps a squirrel’s personal heaven.
Chiron warned, “The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed.”
$A frowned at that as you asked, “Stocked with what? Armed with what?”
“You’ll see. Capture the Flag is Friday night. Do either of you have your own sword and shield?”
“Our own—?”
<<nobr>><<if $height is "very short">>
“No,” Chiron said. “I don’t suppose you do. I think a size seven will fit you, $A. And... hmm,” he looked you over up and down, “I think we may have a size four somewhere for you, $firstname. I’ll visit the armory later.”
<<elseif $height is "short">>
“No,” Chiron said. “I don’t suppose you do. I think a size seven will fit you, $A. And... hmm,” he looked you over up and down, “I think we may have a size five somewhere for you, $firstname. I’ll visit the armory later.”
<<elseif $height is "average">>
“No,” Chiron said. “I don’t suppose you do. I think a size seven will fit you, $A. And... hmm,” he looked you over up and down, “I think we may have a size six somewhere for you, $firstname. I’ll visit the armory later.”
<<elseif $height is "tall">>
“No,” Chiron said. “I don’t suppose you do. I think a size seven will fit you, $A. And... hmm,” he looked you over up and down, “I think we can get a size seven for you too, $firstname. I’ll visit the armory later.”
<<elseif $height is "very tall">>
“No,” Chiron said. “I don’t suppose you do. I think a size seven will fit you, $A. And... hmm,” he looked you over up and down, “I think we may have a size eight somewhere for you, $firstname. I’ll visit the armory later.”<</if>><</nobr>>
You weren’t certain why a summer camp would have an armory, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it. The tour pressed on.
Chiron guided both of you through the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which Chiron didn’t seem to be a big fan of), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where he mentioned they conducted sword and spear fights.
*[['“Sword and spear fights?” you squeaked out.'|Ch 6.06][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option to 1]]
*[['“Say what now?” you asked, whipping your head towards Chiron.'|Ch 6.06][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option to 2]]
*[['“By that I really hope you mean fake ones with wooden or plastic weapons,” you said with a gulp.'|Ch 6.06][$cheerful to $cheerful+2, $aggressive to $aggressive-2, $option to 3]]
*[['“That is actually so cool!” you perked up with enthusiasm.'|Ch 6.06][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2, $option to 4]]
*[['“What kind of summer camp is this?!” you almost yelled out.'|Ch 6.06][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2, $option to 5]]
*[[You just acknowledged that piece of information with a resigned sigh.|Ch 6.06][$disciplined to $disciplined+2, $mischievous to $mischievous-2, $option to 6]]<<nobr>><<if $option is 1>>
“It’s just some challenges for the cabins here,” Chiron reassured you. “Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall.”
<<elseif $option is 2>>
“Cabin challenges and all that,” Chiron explained. “Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall.”
<<elseif $option is 3>>
“Well,” Chiron hesitated before continuing. “They’re not lethal. At least not usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall.”
<<elseif $option is 4>>
“I’m glad you find it so,” Chiron smiled at you. “They’re not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall.”
<<elseif $option is 5>>
“Camp Half-Blood,” Chiron answered your rhetorical question. “They’re not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall.”
<<else>>
“Cabin challenges to keep activities and teamwork going,” Chiron explained. “Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall.”
<</if>><</nobr>><<unset $option>>
He pointed toward an outdoor pavilion outlined by white Grecian columns on a hill that overlooked the sea. There were over a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.
“What do you do when it rains?” $A asked.
Chiron looked at $A_himher as if $A_heshe’d gone a little weird. “We still have to eat, don’t we?”
Lastly, he led both of you to the cabins. There were thirteen of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They formed a U-shape, with two at the base, six in a row on the left side of the aforementioned two, and five in a row on the other side. They were, unquestionably, the most peculiar assortment of buildings you had ever laid eyes on.
Except for the large brass numbers above each door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they bore no resemblance to each other whatsoever. Number four was adorned with tomato vines on the walls and a roof made of real grass. Number nine boasted of smokestacks, resembling a miniature factory ($A appeared to be mildly intrigued by the structure). Seven appeared to be crafted from solid gold, its gleam so intense in the sunlight that it was nearly impossible to look at. They all faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, adorned with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops.
A huge firepit was situated right in the center of the field, its border lined with stones. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smoldered. A girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick.
The duo of cabins at the forefront of the field, numbers one and two, resembled his-and-hers mausoleums—large white marble boxes adorned with sturdy columns. Cabin one was the most substantial and weighty among the twelve. Cabin two, in contrast, exuded a certain grace, featuring slender columns adorned with garlands of pomegranates and flowers. The walls were intricately carved with images of peacocks.
“Zeus and Hera?” you guessed.
“That’s correct,” Chiron said.
“Their cabins look empty.”
“Several of the cabins are. That’s true. No one ever stays in one or two.”
So each cabin had a different god, like a mascot. Twelve cabins for the twelve Olympians, and you guessed the dark one in the far end was for Hades. But why would some be empty?
<<nobr>><<if $godlyparent is "Zeus">>
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 6.07.1">><</button>></span>
<<elseif $godlyparent is "Poseidon">>
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 6.07.2">><</button>></span>
<<elseif $godlyparent is "Hades">><span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 6.07.3">><</button>></span>
<</if>><</nobr>>/*[[Ch 6.07.1]]*//*[[Ch 6.07.2]]*//*[[Ch 6.07.3]]*/You stopped at cabin one, Zeus’s.
In comparison to the other cabins, the sheer size of the entire structure was almost imposing. Its gleaming bronze doors sparkled like a hologram, creating the illusion of lightning bolts streaking across them from various angles. The dome-shaped ceiling was adorned with animated mosaics depicting a cloudy sky and thunderbolts. You tried to peek inside by opening the door and Chiron said, “Oh, I wouldn’t do that!”
Before he could pull you back, you glimpsed into the cabin, noticing its sparse furnishings, akin to a bank. Alcoves featured golden eagle statues, and an imposing statue of Zeus stood in the center. Six unoccupied dark blue bunk beds with neatly turned-down silk sheets were present, yet there was no indication that anyone had ever slept there.
The place felt so sad and lonely, you were partially glad when Chiron put his hand on your shoulder and said, “Come along, $firstname.”
Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.
Number five was a vibrant red—bearing a rather nasty paint job, as if the color had been splattered on with buckets and fists. The roof was adorned with barbed wire, and a stuffed wild boar’s head hung over the doorway, its eyes seemingly tracking your movements. Peeking inside, you could observe a group of tough-looking kids engaged in arm wrestling and heated arguments while blaring heavy metal music filled the space.
The most vocal among them was a girl, perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old. She sported a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD t-shirt beneath a camouflage jacket. Locking onto you, she flashed an evil sneer. She brought to mind Nancy Bobofit, though the camper girl was considerably larger and possessed a more formidable appearance. Her hair, long and stringy, was brown instead of red.
You kept on walking, trying to stay clear of Chiron’s hooves.
“We haven’t seen any other centaurs,” $A observed.
“No,” said Chiron sadly. “My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I must admit. You might come across them in the wilderness or at major sporting events. However, you won’t find any of them here.”
A thought struck you. “You said your name was Chiron. Are you really...”
He smiled down at you. “The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, $firstname, I am.”
*[['“But, shouldn’t you be dead?”'|Ch 6.08][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option to 1]]
*[['“That is . . . pretty awesome, actually.”'|Ch 6.08][$cheerful to $cheerful+2, $aggressive to $aggressive-2, $option to 2]]
*[['“I thought you died like a bajillion years ago!”'|Ch 6.08][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2, $option to 3]]
*[['“How was Hercules? Was he easy to train?”'|Ch 6.08][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2, $option to 4]]
*[['“You’ve lived a pretty long life, Chiron.”'|Ch 6.08][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option to 5]]You stopped in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.
It lacked the grandeur of cabin one, being instead long, low, and sturdy. The exterior consisted of rough gray stone embedded with fragments of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn directly from the ocean floor. You tried to peek inside the open doorway and Chiron said, “Oh, I wouldn’t do that!”
Before he could pull you back, you caught a whiff of the salty scent inside, reminiscent of the breeze along the shores of New York beaches. The interior walls emitted a glow akin to abalone. There were six unoccupied dark green bunk beds with neatly turned-down silk sheets, yet there was no indication that anyone had ever slept there.
The place felt so sad and lonely, you were partially glad when Chiron put his hand on your shoulder and said, “Come along, $firstname.”
Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.
Number five was a vibrant red—bearing a rather nasty paint job, as if the color had been splattered on with buckets and fists. The roof was adorned with barbed wire, and a stuffed wild boar’s head hung over the doorway, its eyes seemingly tracking your movements. Peeking inside, you could observe a group of tough-looking kids engaged in arm wrestling and heated arguments while blaring heavy metal music filled the space.
The most vocal among them was a girl, perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old. She sported a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD t-shirt beneath a camouflage jacket. Locking onto you, she flashed an evil sneer. She brought to mind Nancy Bobofit, though the camper girl was considerably larger and possessed a more formidable appearance. Her hair, long and stringy, was brown instead of red.
You kept on walking, trying to stay clear of Chiron’s hooves.
“We haven’t seen any other centaurs,” $A observed.
“No,” said Chiron sadly. “My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I must admit. You might come across them in the wilderness or at major sporting events. However, you won’t find any of them here.”
A thought struck you. “You said your name was Chiron. Are you really...”
He smiled down at you. “The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, $firstname, I am.”
*[['“But, shouldn’t you be dead?”'|Ch 6.08][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option to 1]]
*[['“That is . . . pretty awesome, actually.”'|Ch 6.08][$cheerful to $cheerful+2, $aggressive to $aggressive-2, $option to 2]]
*[['“I thought you died like a bajillion years ago!”'|Ch 6.08][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2, $option to 3]]
*[['“How was Hercules? Was he easy to train?”'|Ch 6.08][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2, $option to 4]]
*[['“You’ve lived a pretty long life, Chiron.”'|Ch 6.08][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option to 5]]You stopped at the cabin placed furthest away from the others, cabin thirteen.
Its size was slightly smaller than cabin one, but it exuded an equal sense of grandeur. The cabin walls were crafted from solid obsidian, and a skull hung above the doorway, positioned right over the brass number. Torches burning with green-tinted fire flanked either side of the door. The cabin lacked any windows. You tried to peek inside by opening the silver door and Chiron said, “Oh, I wouldn’t do that!”
Before he could pull you back, you glimpsed into the dim interior, lit only by an unsettling green light from the torches similar to those outside. The beds had a coffin-like shape with polished mahogany frames, brass railings, and blood-red velvet pillows and sheets. Additionally, there was a small shrine adorned with bones and jewels. However, there was no evidence that anyone had ever slept there.
The place felt so sad and lonely, you were partially glad when Chiron put his hand on your shoulder and said, “Come along, $firstname.”
Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.
Number five was a vibrant red—bearing a rather nasty paint job, as if the color had been splattered on with buckets and fists. The roof was adorned with barbed wire, and a stuffed wild boar’s head hung over the doorway, its eyes seemingly tracking your movements. Peeking inside, you could observe a group of tough-looking kids engaged in arm wrestling and heated arguments while blaring heavy metal music filled the space.
The most vocal among them was a girl, perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old. She sported a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD t-shirt beneath a camouflage jacket. Locking onto you, she flashed an evil sneer. She brought to mind Nancy Bobofit, though the camper girl was considerably larger and possessed a more formidable appearance. Her hair, long and stringy, was brown instead of red.
You kept on walking, trying to stay clear of Chiron’s hooves.
“We haven’t seen any other centaurs,” $A observed.
“No,” said Chiron sadly. “My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I must admit. You might come across them in the wilderness or at major sporting events. However, you won’t find any of them here.”
A thought struck you. “You said your name was Chiron. Are you really...”
He smiled down at you. “The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, $firstname, I am.”
*[['“But, shouldn’t you be dead?”'|Ch 6.08][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option to 1]]
*[['“That is . . . pretty awesome, actually.”'|Ch 6.08][$cheerful to $cheerful+2, $aggressive to $aggressive-2, $option to 2]]
*[['“I thought you died like a bajillion years ago!”'|Ch 6.08][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2, $option to 3]]
*[['“How was Hercules? Was he easy to train?”'|Ch 6.08][$hyper to $hyper+2, $calm to $calm-2, $option to 4]]
*[['“You’ve lived a pretty long life, Chiron.”'|Ch 6.08][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2, $option to 5]]<<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>><<nobr>><<if $option is 1>>
Chiron paused, as if the question had piqued his interest. “Honestly, I’m uncertain about what should be. The truth is, I cannot be dead. Eons ago, the gods granted my wish. I could persist in the work I loved, being a teacher of heroes for as long as humanity required me. I gained a great deal from that wish, and I sacrificed much. Yet, I’m still here, so I can only presume that I’m still needed.”
<<elseif $option is 2>>
Chiron smiled at you warmly. “I’m pleased you feel that way, $firstname. The reality is, I cannot be dead. Eons ago, the gods granted my wish. I could persist in the work I loved, being a teacher of heroes for as long as humanity required me. I gained much from that wish, and I sacrificed much. But if I were given the choice again, my answer would remain unchanged.”
<<elseif $option is 3>>
Chiron paused, as if the remark had sparked his interest. “I honestly don't know about that. The truth is, I cannot be dead. Eons ago, the gods granted my wish. I could persist in the work I loved, being a teacher of heroes for as long as humanity required me. I gained much from that wish, and I sacrificed much. Yet, I’m still here, so I can only assume I’m still needed.”
<<elseif $option is 4>>
Chiron chuckled heartily. “Heracles was a bit too wild and temperamental for his own good, but, in the end, he was a good kid. He’s up on Olympus now with his wife, Hebe. Hera finally gave up on trying to make him miserable after he attained godhood. As of now, he appears to have mixed feelings about his decision to become a god. Nevertheless, it has been an honor teaching him and countless other heroes.”
<<else>>
Chiron paused, as if the statement intrigued him. “I suppose I have. Though the truth is, I cannot be dead. Eons ago, the gods granted my wish. I could persist in the work I loved, being a teacher of heroes for as long as humanity required me. I gained much from that wish, and I sacrificed much. Yet, I’m still here, so I can only assume I’m still needed.”
<</if>><</nobr>><<unset $option>>
You thought about being a teacher to a bunch of ill-fated kids for thousands of years. It sounded like a complete nightmare to deal with them and their PTA moms.
“I guess this is what you meant when you said what I learned from you was vitally important. Doesn’t it ever get boring?”
“No, no,” he said. “Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring.”
“Why depressing?”
Chiron seemed to turn hard of hearing again.
“Oh, look,” he said. “$M and $V are waiting for us.”
<span class="next"><<button "Next" "Ch 6.09">><</button>></span>/*[[Ch 6.09]]*/The kids you had met at the Big House were sitting on the stairs in front of the second-to-last cabin on the left, number eleven.
The one named $M was focused on reading a book. You tried to see what $M_heshe was reading, but you couldn’t make out the title properly. You thought your dyslexia was acting up before you realized that the title wasn’t even in English. The letters looked Greek to you. Ancient Greek, to be specific. There were pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book.
The Valentine $V_guy looked you over critically, like $V_heshe was still thinking about how much you kept your mouth open in your sleep. However, you couldn’t help but notice a spark of intrigue in $V_hisher green eyes before they reverted back to their usual dull look. Although, it would’ve been a huge understatement to call them dull when they did nothing but enhance the ridiculously good looks $V_heshe possessed.
Chiron said to them, “I have masters’ archery class at noon, you two. Would you take $firstname and $A from here?”
“Yes, sir!” $M replied almost immediately like a trained soldier. $M_HisHer friend, however, just gave a half-hearted shrug.
“Cabin eleven,” Chiron told you and $A, gesturing toward the doorway. “Make yourself at home.”
Among all the cabins, eleven appeared the most like a typical old summer camp cabin, with a strong emphasis on old. The doorstep was worn down, and the brown paint was peeling. Above the doorway hung one of those medical symbols, a winged pole with two snakes coiled around it—a caduceus.
Inside, it was packed with people, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over on the floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.
Chiron didn’t come inside the cabin. The door was too low for him. But when the campers saw him, they all stood and bowed respectfully.
“Well, then,” Chiron turned to you and $A. “Good luck, children. I’ll see you at dinner.”
He galloped away toward the archery range.
You stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. They weren’t bowing anymore. They were staring at you and $A, sizing you both up. You knew this routine. You’d gone through it at enough schools to count on both your hands.
Beside you, $A bristled. $A_HeShe looked as thrilled about the whole thing as you.
“Well?” $M prompted. “Go on.”
<div id="centered"><<link "Naturally, $A tripped on the doorway and made a fool of $A_himself." "Ch 6.10">><</link>></div>/*[[Ch 6.10]]*/Before you decided on whether to be happy or not about the fact that your friend’s clumsiness took the attention off of you, you heard some snickers from the campers at $A_hisher spectacular entrance, but none of them said anything.
$M shared a glance with $V and the latter rolled $V_hisher eyes before coming forward to announce, “$firstname $surname and $A Moreau, meet cabin eleven.”
“Regular or undetermined?” somebody asked.
$M winced almost imperceptibly before answering, “Undetermined.”
Everybody groaned.
A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward. “Now, now, campers. That’s what we’re here for. Welcome, you two. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there.”
The guy appeared to be around nineteen, and he looked pretty damn cool. Tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy blonde hair and a welcoming smile, he wore an orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace adorned with five differently colored clay beads. The only disconcerting aspect of his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, resembling an old knife slash.
“This is Luke,” $M said, $M_hisher tone is full of the same admiration $M_heshe used around Chiron. “He’s your counselor for now.”
“For now?” $A asked, not sounding very happy.
“You’re undetermined,” Luke explained patiently. “They don’t know which cabin they should assign you to, so you’re here. Cabin eleven welcomes all newcomers and visitors. Naturally, we would, as Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers.”
You glanced at the small section of floor they'd assigned you, right beside $A’s. You had nothing to place there to mark it as your own—no luggage, no clothes, no sleeping bag. Only the Minotaur’s horn and the few toiletries $V had acquired from the camp store. You contemplated setting them down, but then you recalled that Hermes is also the god of thieves.
$A seemed to have the same thought as $A_heshe looked around at the campers’ faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing you two as if they were waiting for a chance to pick your pockets.
“How long will we be here?” you asked.
“Good question,” Luke said. “Until you’re determined.”
*[['“And how long is that gonna take?”'|Ch 6.11][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2]]
*[['“I don’t suppose I can just stay in one of those emptier cabins?”'|Ch 6.11][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2]]
*[['“That’s all well and good, but I’m not looking to get robbed here in the meantime.”'|Ch 6.11][$aggressive to $aggressive+2, $cheerful to $cheerful-2]]
*[['“Oh great.”'|Ch 6.11][$calm to $calm+2, $hyper to $hyper-2]]
*[[You pursed your lips and nodded.|Ch 6.11][$disciplined to $disciplined+2, $mischievous to $mischievous-2]]
*[[You pursed your lips and frowned.|Ch 6.11][$disciplined to $disciplined+2, $mischievous to $mischievous-2]]The campers all laughed, though you couldn’t see what was so funny. $A stepped forward, hand inching toward $A_hisher hammer in $A_hisher trusty tool belt. You didn’t know if $A_heshe was going to bludgeon everyone with $A_hisher hammer but $M interjected before anything could happen.
“Come on,” $M_heshe grabbed your wrist and dragged you outside, although not before you caught $A’s hand, pulling $A_himher after you. You could hear the kids of Cabin Eleven laughing behind you all as you left.
Once you were all a reasonable distance away, $M says, “$surname, you have to do better than that.”
“What?” you asked, flabbergasted.
$M_HeShe turned on $A. “And you! Were you seriously going to go all Django Unchained on the campers there? Are you mental?” $M_heshe demanded.
$V laughed lightly beside $V_hisher uptight friend, the sound unexpected from the usually broody $V_guy. “I don’t know, Mars. They were both pretty entertaining just now.”
$A glared at $V_himher. “We’re not a pair of fucking showpieces.”
‘Mars’ pinched the bridge of $M_hisher nose before saying through gritted teeth, “Just go to cabin nine, Beckendorf will meet you there.”
$A turned $A_hisher glare on the blonde. “Who the hell are you to order me around like this?”
To $M_hisher credit, $M matched the intensity of your friend’s hostile gaze. “It was Chiron’s order, you big idiot.”
$A hesitated at that, knowing that it was probably something serious. Plus, the prickly blonde didn’t seem to be the lying type.
$A_HeShe turned to you. “Will you be okay with these two?”
You heard $M scoff in offense but ignored $M_himher. “It’s fine. Go see what Chiron wants you there for.”
Your friend nodded at you with a smile before heading off to the cabins. Though $A_heshe also didn’t forget to shoot a nasty glare at the two kids you were stuck in the company of.
$M rolled $M_hisher eyes and mumbled under $M_hisher breath, “I can’t believe I thought you were the one.”
“What’s your problem?” You were getting more and more frustrated by the minute. “All I know is, I kill some bull guy—”
“Don’t talk like that!” $M snapped at you. “You know how many kids at this camp wish they’d had your chance?”
“Not me, that’s for sure,” $V mumbled.
“To get killed?” you asked.
“To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?”
You shook your head. “Uh uh. If the thing I fought really was the Minotaur, the same one in the myths . . .”
“Yes.”
“Then there’s only one.”
“Yes.”
“And Theseus killed him in the labyrinth, like, thousands of years ago, right? So...”
“Monsters don’t die, $firstname. They can be killed. But they don’t die.”
*[['“You really are a joy to be around, aren’t you?”'|Ch 6.12][$option to 1]]
*[['“Oh, thanks a lot. That clears it up.”'|Ch 6.12][$option to 2]]
*[['“Can you people tell me something other than terrifying news for once?”'|Ch 6.12][$option to 3]]
*[['“Wonderful.”'|Ch 6.12][$option to 4]]
*[[You groaned and looked up at the sky, praying for it to fall down.|Ch 6.12][$option to 5]]<<nobr>><<if $option is 1>>
$V chuckled. “$M_heshe really is. Well, sometimes at least.”
<<elseif $option is 2>>
$V chuckled and you turned to find $V_himher looking at you with intrigued amusement.
<<elseif $option is 3>>
“Nope,” $V said way too cheerfully. “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.”
<<elseif $option is 4>>
$V chuckled at your deadpan tone, and you turned to find $V_himher looking at you with intrigued amusement.
<<else>>
$V chuckled and you turned to find $V_himher observing your quiet contemplation with intrigued amusement.
<</if>><</nobr>><<unset $option>>
“They don’t have souls like you and me,” $M sighed out, as if $M_heshe was explaining to a five-year-old. “You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you’re lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, they re-form.”
You thought about Mrs. Dodds. “You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword—”
“The Fur— I mean, your math teacher. That’s right. She’s still out there. You just made her very, very mad.”
“How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?”
“You talk in your sleep.”
“You almost called her something. A Fury? They’re Hades’ torturers, right?”
Both $M and $V glanced nervously at the ground, as if they expected it to open up and swallow them whole. “You shouldn’t call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones, if we have to speak of them at all.”
“Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?” you sounded whiny, even to yourself, but right now, you didn’t care. “Why do I have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there.”
You pointed to the first few cabins, and $V turned pale. “You don’t just choose a cabin, $firstname. It depends on who your parents are. Or... your parent.”
$V_HeShe stared at you, waiting for you to get it.
*<<link '“My mom is Maya $surname,” you said. “She works at the candy store at 73rd Street. At least, she used to.”'"Ch 6.13">><<set $option2 to 1>><</link>>
*[['“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but she’s dead. I suggest you don’t hold out much hope.”'|Ch 6.13][$option2 to 2]]
*[['“Sorry to disappoint you but my father isn’t gonna send any donations here anytime soon. He died before I was born.”'|Ch 6.13][$option2 to 3]]<<if $option2 is 1>>“I’m sorry about your mom, $firstname,” $V said, tone solemn. “But that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about your other parent. Your dad.”
“He’s dead. I never knew him.”
$V sighed, giving up. Clearly, $V_heshe had this conversation before with other kids.
$M rolled $M_hisher eyes at the dark-haired $V_guy’s apparent laziness before telling you, “Your father’s not dead, $firstname.”<<elseif $option2 is 2>>“I’m sorry about your mom, $firstname,” $V said, tone solemn. “But that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about your other parent. Your dad.”
$V sighed, giving up. Clearly, $V_heshe had this conversation before with other kids.
$M rolled $M_hisher eyes at the dark-haired $V_guy’s apparent laziness before telling you, “Your father’s not dead, $firstname.”<<else>>$V sighed, giving up. Clearly, $V_heshe’s had this conversation before with other kids.
$M rolled $M_hisher eyes at the dark-haired $V_guy’s apparent laziness before telling you, “Your father’s not dead, $firstname.”<</if>><<unset $option2>>
“How can you say that? You know him?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then how can you say—”
“Because I know you. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t one of us.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“No?” $M_HeShe raised an eyebrow. “I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them.”
“How—”
“Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too.”
You tried not to show your embarrassment. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Taken altogether, it’s almost a sure sign. The letters appear to float off the page when you read because your mind is hardwired for Ancient Greek, not English. And the ADHD—being impulsive, unable to sit still in the classroom—that’s your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they’ll keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that’s because you see too much, $firstname, not too little. Your senses surpass those of a regular mortal. Naturally, the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don’t want you seeing them for what they are.”
You looked at $M and $V curiously now. “Did you two go through the same thing?”
“Most of the kids here did,” $V answered. “If you weren’t like us, you couldn’t have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar.”
“Ambrosia and nectar.”
“The food and drink we provided to help you recover? That stuff would have been lethal for a regular kid. It would have turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand, and you’d most certainly be dead. Face it, $surname. You’re a half-blood.”
A half-blood.
You were reeling with so many questions that you didn’t even know where to start.
<div id="centered">[['Then a rather loud voice yelled, “Well! A newbie!”'|Ch 6.14]]</div><<if settings.notifications>><<notify 3s>>Saved<</notify>><</if>>You looked over. The big girl from the ugly red cabin was sauntering towards you. She had two girls and a guy behind her, all big and ugly and mean-looking like her, all wearing camo jackets.
“Clarisse,” $V sighed, sounding bored all over again. “Why don’t you go polish your spear or something?”
“Sure, $V_MrMiss $V_Prince,” the big girl sneered. “So I can run you through with it on Friday night.”
“//Erre es korakas!//” $M says, which you somehow understood was Greek for ‘Go to the crows!’ though you have a feeling it is a worse curse than it sounds. “You’ll have to go through me too. And, let’s be real, you won’t stand a chance against us both.”
“We’ll pulverize you,” Clarisse said, but her eye twitched. Perhaps she wasn’t sure she could follow through on the threat. To save herself the embarrassment, she turned toward you.
“Who’s this little runt?”
“$firstname $surname,” $M said, “meet Clarisse La Rue, Daughter of Ares.”
You blinked. “Like... the war god?”
Clarisse sneered. “You got a problem with that?”
“No,” you said, recovering your wits. “No wonder it smells like shit now.”
Clarisse growled. “I’m also the head of the unofficial welcome committee for newbies, runt.”
“The name’s $firstname.”
“Whatever. Come on, I’ll show you.”
“Clarisse—” $M tried to say.
“Stay out of this, big brain.”
$M looked pained and $V glared at Clarisse, but they watched helplessly as her goons kept them from helping you. You figured this was a way for you to earn your own rep here as the new kid.
*[[Maybe you should try to ta—|Ch 6.15]]
*[[Maybe you can try to hit before she can re—|Ch 6.15]]
*[[Maybe you can get out of this without a fi—|Ch 6.15]]
*[[Oh cr—|Ch 6.15]]Before you could comprehend it, Clarisse had you by the neck and you dropped your minotaur horn in surprise. She was hauling you towards a cinderblock building that you immediately recognized as the bathroom.
You kicked, punched, and screamed your throat out. Despite having been in plenty of fights before, this big girl Clarisse had hands like iron. She forcibly dragged you into the girls’ bathroom.
On one side, there was a row of toilets, and on the other, a line of shower stalls. The smell was reminiscent of any public bathroom, and amidst Clarisse ripping your hair out, you couldn’t help but think that if this place belonged to the gods, they should've been able to afford classier facilities.
Clarisse’s friends were all laughing, and you were attempting to summon the strength you had used to fight the Minotaur, but it just wasn’t there anymore.
“As if your runt ass could be ‘Big Three’ material,” Clarisse mocked as she pushed you toward one of the toilets. “Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing at you, ain’t that right?”
Her friends snickered.
<<if $godlyparent is "Zeus">>As you started to reminisce of your past not filled with scummy toilet water, you thought to yourself, ‘I won’t be getting dunked today, I just won’t!’
Before they could move you fully toward the toilet bowl, however, something happened. You felt a tug in the pit of your stomach. The room filled with a strange ozone-like smell as everyone’s hair stood on end. Clarisse’s grip on your hair loosened.
Suddenly, the bulbs and other lightning equipment inside started to burst in identical symphonies. Blue sparks of electricity left the empty sockets and filaments, making an arc straight over your head, and the next thing you knew was that you were sprawled on the bathroom tiles with Clarisse screaming behind you.
You turned just as another spark blasted out from an empty bulb socket, hitting Clarisse straight in the face so hard that she almost zapped around the bathroom. The electricity shocked her whole body to the point she started dancing the macarena at some point.
She struggled, yelping, and her friends started coming toward her. But then more bulbs exploded and the sockets cackled with charge as they blasted Clarisse’s back-up away. The sparks seemed to come in from outside, too, and together they zapped around and made the camo-wearing kids make their way right out of the bathroom while making them dance like crazy.
As soon as they were out the door, you felt the tug in your gut lessen, and the streaks of electricity sparkled off as quickly as they had started.
The entire bathroom still smelled of ozone mixed with chlorine. Neither $M nor $V were spared. Their hairs were standing up in attention, but they hadn’t been pushed out the door. They were both staring at you in shock (literally).
You looked down and realized that all the lighting equipment in the room was broken beyond repair. Chiron would not be thanking you for this.
You stood up on shaky legs.
$V seemed to find some words as $V_heshe said, “How did you...”
“I don’t know.”
You turned to $M and found $M_himher already staring at you. You couldn’t tell whether $M_heshe was just frozen in shock or angry at you for making $M_himher look like a mad scientist.<<elseif $godlyparent is "Poseidon">>Clarisse bent you over on your knees and started pushing your head toward the toilet bowl. It reeked of rusted pipes and, well, like whatever usually went into toilets. You strained to keep your head up. You were looking at the scummy water, thinking, ‘I will not go into that. I won’t!’
Then something happened. You felt a tug in the pit of your stomach as the plumbing rumbled and the pipes shuddered. Clarisse’s grip on your hair loosened.
Water shot out of the toilet, making an arc straight over your head, and the next thing you knew, you were sprawled on the bathroom tiles with Clarisse screaming behind you.
You turned just as water blasted out of the toilet again, hitting Clarisse straight in the face so hard it pushed her down onto her butt. The water stayed on her like the spray from a fire hose, pushing her backward into a shower stall.
She struggled, gasping, and her friends started coming toward her. But then the other toilets exploded, too, and six more streams of toilet water blasted them back. The showers acted up, too, and together all the fixtures sprayed the camo-kids right out of the bathroom, spinning them around like pieces of garbage being washed away.
As soon as they were out the door, you felt the tug in your gut lessen, and the water shut off as quickly as it had started.
The entire bathroom was flooded. Neither $M nor $V were spared. They were dripping wet, but they hadn’t been pushed out the door. They were both staring at you in shock.
You looked down and realized you were sitting in the only dry spot in the whole room. There was a circle of dry floor around you. You didn’t have one drop of water on your clothes. Nothing.
You stood up on shaky legs.
$V seemed to find some words as $V_heshe said, “How did you...”
“I don’t know.”
You turned to $M and found $M_himher already staring at you. You couldn’t tell whether $M_heshe was just grossed out or angry at you for dousing $M_himher in toilet water.<<elseif $godlyparent is "Hades">>As you started to reminisce of your past not filled with scummy toilet water, you thought to yourself, ‘Once I get out of this, I’m going to give them hell!’
Before they could move you fully toward the toilet bowl, however, something happened. You felt a cold tug in the pit of your stomach. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees, and the ground started rumbling slightly. Clarisse’s grip on your hair loosened.
Suddenly, shadows from the corners of the room coalesced into a dark mass. They ominously merged before propelling themselves in an arc straight over your head. The next thing you knew, you were sprawled on the bathroom tiles, with Clarisse screaming behind you.
You turned just as the shadowy mass struck Clarisse straight in the face so hard that she hit the wall, making a Clarisse-shaped dent there. The dark shape loomed over her, almost as if it was holding her down while she screamed like hell over what she was looking at.
The shadowy mass distorted, inducing visions of Clarisse’s worst nightmares as her friends approached her. However, wispy tendrils shot out from the dark corners of the room, forcefully pushing Clarisse’s backup away. The shadows almost seemed to ominously loom over the entire interior, eventually merging into one writhing mass that forcefully propelled the camo-kids out of the bathroom, their bodies trembling with both dread and cold.
As soon as they were out the door, you felt the tug in your gut lessened, and the shadows returned to the corners of the room as quickly as they had appeared.
The entire bathroom still felt ridiculously cold. Neither $M nor $V seemed to have been spared. They were shivering, but they hadn’t been pushed out the door. They were both staring at you in shock.
You looked down and realized you weren’t too uncomfortable with the low temperature. It was as if you had a cozy invisible blanket around you, shielding you from the freezing atmosphere in the room.
You stood up on shaky legs.
$V seemed to find some words as $V_heshe said, “How did you...”
“I don’t know.”
You turned to $M and found $M_himher already staring at you. You couldn’t tell whether $M_heshe was just freaked out or angry at you for almost turning $M_himher into a human popsicle.<</if>>
“What?” you demanded. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking,” $M_heshe said, exchanging a conspiratorial look with $V, “that I want you on our team for Capture the Flag.”
<h2>END OF CHAPTER 6</h2>