The Ordeals Of The Labyrinth - Part 5
Anteus's competitors swarmed him, circling him like prey and closing in like sharks on blood from all directions, and Percy...
He didn't know how he managed it, didn't understand, and couldn't possibly explain - and that's probably the gist of it.
He didn't think.
He just moved.
Twelve monsters came at him from all directions - and twelve monsters died.
The dracaenae tried to run him through with their spears, or launched nets to tangle his sword hand. He deflected the jabs and dodged clear of the traps, weaving between them before hurling himself toward the would-be trapper and lopping off her head and half her torso in one blinding swing.
The giants tried to trample him, but Percy ducked beneath their grasping hands and sliced limbs off right and left, ignoring the enraged bellows and moving on to the next.
A hellhound tried to claw his face off, so he punched it - hard enough that he could feel its snout cave in and hear the wretched half-whine it managed to give off before Riptide flashed through it and sent it back to Tartarus in a shower of gold.
Even the aquatic sea dog things he'd seen before tried to slip past his guard - Tried, being the operative word.
The farthest any of them got was sliding under his guard and slicing a nasty cut through the underside of his shirt and just barely knicking the skin along his side with a satisfied snarl.
In response, Percy turned and kicked the ugly thing like a football, not even pausing to enjoy its indignant screech before throwing himself at the next - the one that happened to be seven feet tall, with claws like razor blades and a maw that was more teeth than jaw.
It died too.
It's not as though Percy got away with any of it scott-free, either.
Slashes, bruises, strained muscles and bones that seemed to quiver and scream whenever a rattling blow just barely stalled against his blade - it all piled up. Even as he fought, a part of him could still feel slow and stagger and ache - he hadn't been in the best shape to start with, and now he probably looked like death warmed over - but it didn't matter.
Parry. Sheild. Deflect. Roll.
Percy's vision was just rabid teeth, flashing celestial bronze and spraying golden dust scattering into the air. His every move was sheer, determined instinct, and clenched in a grip so tight it could have crumbled stone, Riptide was no longer a sword - it was an extension of him, an arc of pure destruction.
And then it was over.
The last giant burst into nothingness as Percy's sword cleaved through his chest with a tortured wail that seemed to linger in the air like rotten sludge, and suddenly he found himself stumbling to a halt in the middle of the empty arena, eyes wide and chest heaving, with nothing but the ringing silence and the feel of his heartbeat raging beneath his ribs.
-two, three, four-
The seconds felt like an eternity. Out of the corner of his eye, Percy caught sight of Annabeth and Nico. Both of them were still as statues and gaping at him, and even the centaur who'd been so smug dragging them into this mess looked poleaxed.
He'd have smiled or said something witty - how's that for a mere demigod, huh? - but he wasn't all that sure he could move.
With the last opponent gone, he was dangerously aware of the exhaustion and the pain that was starting to creep in on his senses now that the rush of not dying was beginning to dim. His arms were beginning to shake from the titanic effort of trying to keep Riptide raised.
Unfortunately, and all too typically, he didn't have a choice.
The spectators, who'd been silent up until then, began to howl.
Percy started violently and almost flung Riptide into the stands as the monsters roared as one, for what good that would have done. Instead, he forced himself to bite down on the impulse and stared as the audience just about exploded, calls and jeers ringing out as they lamented his victory.
Some of them were even cheering for him, crazed cries trailing down as they celebrated the carnage they'd just been privy to. The fact that it was a demigod who'd come out the winner didn't dampen their fun at all.
If anything, it seemed that the novelty of his victory made it all that much more entertaining, and them that much louder.
But none of them were louder than Anateus.
"Hahahahahaha!"
The lord of the arena - and the worst half-brother in existence, Percy was damn near sure of it- drowned out the rest of the chaos with the force of his laughter. His fists hammered down on the armrests of his seat like an overexcited sports fan.
"A fine show!" The son of Gaea bellowed, satisfaction and sheer delight curling off of every word. The tone alone had Percy cringing. "A display worthy of a son of the sea, if just barely! But it's not over yet!"
His eyes gleamed as the crowds cheered in tune with his words
"No, I've yet to be satisfied! A victor's respite in the dungeon for Percy Jackson, and then we'll have our third round!"
"No!"
It took Percy two seconds too long to realize that it was him who'd interrupted.
"I'm done playing your games!"
Anteus's face darkened ominously.
"You dare? No one dishonors the games!" Antaeus bellowed. "You will compete, Jackson, or all your heads shall be tributes to Poseidon!"
"Percy-!" Annabeth's voice abruptly rose somewhere off to the side, before a strangled noise cut her off.
"Leave her alone!" Nico yelled.
"Quiet!" Another voice hissed, and he turned just in time to see a familiar figure herding both of them back away from the edges of the stand.
He caught the half-defiant, half-terrified look in Nico's eyes and scowled furiously.
That centaur. If he ever got his hands on him, the things Percy would do to him would make even Clarisse cry foul.
But until then, he had a sibling to duel to the death - and Anteus had just given him the perfect bait to goad him with.
"Poesidon? Really?" He raised his voice to be heard over the din of clamoring monsters. "You keep bringing him up and pretending to be the favorite, but all I've seen you do is sit in that chair, talking a big game and resting on your-"
He eyed the skulls and grimaced again.
"-Laurels. Why don't you fight me yourself? If you've got Dad's favor, come down here and prove it!"
The monsters grumbled in the stands, discontent rising among the ranks quickly. Antaeus looked around, and apparently realized he had no choice. Percy had caught him in a box - He couldn't say no without looking like a coward.
"Fool! I am the greatest wrestler in the world, boy," he warned. "I have been wrestling since the first pankration!".
Percy glared flatly
"Don't know what that is, and I don't particularly care."
The giant bared his teeth. "Then allow me to educate you!"
Percy blinked and backed up in alarm when Antaeus moved.
Credit where credit was due - and he hated giving the monster any -but the giant wasted no time rising to the challenge.
Or rather, falling to it.
Between one blink and the next, he'd heaved himself off his seat and leaped off the railing, into the arena. He hit the ground feet first, and though the drop wasn't that high, the earth beneath their feet seemed to shiver and rumble with the force of his landing.
Oh, this was going to suck so hard.
Anteus cracked his knuckles. He grinned, and Percy saw that even his teeth were etched in wave patterns.
The effect didn't make him look any less ugly.
"Weapons?" He asked
In response, Percy raised Riptide at the ready once more and forced his arm not to shake in exhaustion through sheer force of will.
"I don't need anything else."
Anteus shrugged.
"A bit puny, but far be it for me to deny you the chance to die with your chosen weapon on hand! When I pluck it from your corpse, perhaps I'll keep it as a trophy. Or a toothpick."
He held up his huge hands and wiggled his fingers. "I don't need anything beyond my bare hands! More personal that way!"
And that was all the warning Percy got before the giant lunged with a speed that was frankly insulting on something so large, arms spread wide to seize him. Instead of backing away and risk tripping over his own feet, he rolled forward under his legs and made to stab Anteus in the back of the thigh.
The giant must have seen it coming, though, because he kicked up, somehow launching himself some six feet up in an absurdly smooth move, and Percy had to scramble out of the way before his bulk came down and crushed him into paste.
"Did you think it would be that easy-argggh!"
Whatever he was going to say devolved into a pained yell when Percy shot to his feet, ducked under the fierce backhand that swung over his head and slashed Riptide through his bare side, deep enough for it to arc through his ribs.
That should have been progress.
But where blood should've come out, there was a spout of sand, like he'd busted the side of an hourglass. It spilled into the dirt floor, before it seemed to shimmer and surge back up the way it came, flowing along Anteus's skin and covering the wound like a cast. When it fell away a second later, the giant's wound had vanished completely.
Percy stared.
Anteus grinned.
The earth, Percy realized as he glanced down, thinking faster than he'd ever had in his life.
What was it Annabeth had said?
Antaeus's mother was Gaea the earth mother, the most ancient goddess of all. A Primordial, just like Luna's father.
Antaeus's father might have been Poseidon, but it was his mother's power that was keeping him alive, her domain. Percy couldn't hurt him as long as he was touching the ground.
Percy had never seen such bullshit in his life
"That's just cheating."
"Now you see why I never lose, demigod!" Antaeus gloated. "Come here and let me crush you. I'll make it quick!"
Percy tried to skirt around him, but Antaeus anticipated his move. He blocked his path, chuckling. He was just toying with him now. He had him cornered and they both knew it.
The thought made his blood boil with fury.
It wasn't the first time he'd had his back against the wall - it wasn't even uncommon - but between the exhaustion, the leeching pain, and the sheer misery of the last day and a half, the self-satisfied grin on the monster's face was doing terrible things to his blood pressure.
His fists clenched on Riptide's grip fiercely enough that his skin went stark white. There was a twisting sensation in his gut, a vaguely familiar pulling that burned with intensity and building pressure.
The earth began to heave beneath them both.
The giant's gazes flickered down, brow scrunching in confusion.
"What-?"
And then the pressure ruptured, and a geyser of water exploded beneath Anteus's feet like a firehose from hell. The giant sailed up, before the water abruptly cut off and sent him careening back down into the earth.
The good news was that the lord of the arena slammed back down to the ground like a meteor, and son of Gaea or not, landing head first at that kind of velocity was no one's idea of a good time, immortal or no.
The bad news was that as soon as the water cut off from wherever it had come from, Percy's vision went dim and black around the edges. His knees buckled and he found himself staggering and collapsing himself, ears ringing as he fought to stay awake against the encroaching blackness.
"Are you quite finished?"
And then Anteus spoke, somehow there and already looming right over him, and Percy went cold all the way down his spine.
"Good."
He tried to move, but Anteus lunged and seized him around the throat with a death grip. His free hand struck, and Percy's vision went from black to white as something in his sword arm snapped and Riptide slipped from his loose fingers.
"It is time for this defiance to end, Percy Jackson. Unfortunately for you, you've not nearly entertained me enough to humor the Titans's request for your life."
What?
He tried to parse that through, but everything hurt. He could barely breathe through Anteus's hold.
"I expected better from you, but perhaps I should not have. After all, you are merely my half-brother."
The giant hauled him over to the crater he'd landed in and gestured. It was three feet deep, and the water had pooled in the bottom and gone thick and murky.
"And while our father is glorious indeed, 'tis my mother who is the greater of the two."
Anteus's smile turned cruel.
"See for yourself."
And then he dropped down to a knee, twisted his hold just so, and forced Percy face-first into the mud.
...
It took him precious seconds to realize that he couldn't breathe.
He couldn't-
He-
He couldn't breathe.
His mouth opened, and the water surged in, but something was different, wrong. The earth rushed in with it, and Percy made the mistake of swallowing, and it burned inside and out.
True terror began to take over as he flailed, a desperate kind of fear he'd never felt before overcoming him as he tried to break Anteus's grip and failed horribly.
This couldn't be happening
This couldn't be happening.
This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening -
Slowly, Percy began to feel his limbs weaken, his mind drifting away. Bu the terror only got worse.
And then he remembered his father.
.
Dad?
Gods heard prayers, didn't they?
Poseidon?
He had to be listening. He had to help.
Please, I need your help. I'm going - he's going to- Dad, I can't- please!"
He had to.
...
Dad?
...
And that was the last thought he had before everything went quiet.
...
Anteus hummed in satisfaction as the last of the demigod's unsightly death throes petered out, and then he pulled Percy Jackson's corpse out and hefted it into the air with a single fist before the masses.
"Another victory for me!" He declared grandly, and the monsters in the stands cheered as well they should. "And now, to dedicate my prize to the mighty earthshaker!"
"NO!"
And that was when a monstrous presence slapped down and robbed the Arena of even the slightest whisper.
Braziers died. Frost spread across the earth and an icy chill slipped into the air.
"No!"
The second scream was no less ragged, and Anteus traced its source amidst the stands farthest from him. There, standing in front of a pale, wide-eyed Annabeth, standing atop a pile of dust that had once been his servant, was Nico Di Angelo.
The boy's face was a rictus of grief and rage, but it was his eyes that betrayed the true danger. There was no hint of mortality in them.
Instead, they had become pits of roiling shadows, drinking in all light and swirling with malice.
"You-you!" His gaze traced Jackson's corpse in agony, before rounding on Anteus with fury fit for Tartarus. "I'm going to KILL YOU!"
And then the shadows exploded, pouring out of him in an unholy miasma and growing, a pillar of black that seemed to reach into the very heavens before it buckled and poured over the arena.
The monsters screamed, but they needn't have bothered. The power that Nico Di Angelo had called for did not seek them out.
It didn't even attack Anteus.
Instead, it sought something else.
His skulls. His prizes. Hundreds of them, lining the railings, piled into mountains, mounted and displayed in every nook and cranny.
Anteus watched as the darkness slipped into his tributes, one by one. He watched as black light welled in dead sockets, and spectral forms and limbs manifest.
Anteus watched and began to balk away in growing fear as the dead rose.
And then Nico Di Angelo raised a hand.
"DESTROY HIM!"
A moment later, Anteus began to scream.
...
Somewhere in the mortal realm, a hurricane began to rage.
...
Me: Channeling my inner Gege
https://imgur.com/lTh4CMB
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