Not Just Another God ✓

Chapter 22: Thought my scribe forgot about the dark stuff? Lol, nope.

TW: blood and vampirism(? Is that a word?)

I stared out of the window as the train started to pick up speed and pull out of the island, seeming to travel on the ocean.

The horizon loomed in the distance and I watched the sea foam float on the waves for comfort.

Let's just say Meili wasn't the best driver.

With a cough-like shudder, the sides of my vision started blurring, and ebony colored smoke started seeping in, causing me to completely black out.

***
I was standing at the edge of the river Lethe, with Jason on the other side.

"Give up now," I said, delighting at the nervousness radiating off his skin.

Jason's face was set in a stubborn no.

"Give up and I may spare the lives of your so-called friends," I repeated, fiddling with my pen, causing him to glance anxiously at me.

"I came to talk," he said, "not to fight."

"Hmm?" I raised an eyebrow in mild curiosity.

"This." He gestured to me. "This isn't like you. This isn't you at all. We can fight whatever's making you do this, Percy. We can get it out."

"No," I cut in, hardly feeling the tug in my gut as I raised a gallon of water from the Lethe, and made shapes with it as I tossed it around, "you don't understand. This is me. Everything I was meant to be. No mercy. No hesitation. Nothing. I feel nothing."

I grinned at the shocked looked on Jason's face.

"You didn't..." he started, as if he was scared of saying it out loud.

"Oh, yes, Grace," I said, watching him squirm at my ice cold tone, "I did."

"No, please," he said, taking out his sword, "I don't want to fight you. Not again. Please. If you kill me, don't kill them. Promise me, please."

"I don't make any promises to anyone," I said, whipping the cap off that cheap plastic pen, "especially not you."

Then I raised my blade and chopped his head clean off without even the tiniest hint of a struggle.

***
"He isn't waking up," a voice said, but it sounded blurred and distorted, almost as if I were underwater.

"He's never been under for so long," another voice said. A familiar voice. I wanted to wake up, to open my eyes, but they wouldn't cooperate.

A sharp gasp erupted from the speaker.

"Oh gods... Oh gods..."

***

The room was dark, and filled with ink black shadows, spilling out from the throne in the center of the room, almost as if their only wish was to escape.

I stared at the feet of the Master, knowing I would surely die if I looked upon his true self. Even worse, my power might be lost or I would be forced to feel once again.

"Master," I said, bowing low, as he emitted a low growl.

"Did you kill the son of Jupiter?" he questioned in a deep baritone that rumbled the room.

"Yes, my Lord," I replied, with a sense of pride coming over me.

"Did you collect his blood?"

I gave a short, sharp nod as I handed him a small vial, glistening with red from the blood I had collected.

The Master examined it carefully, and I could almost hear the click as his face took on a huge grin.

He started chanting, in a language so old it made shivers run down my spine. The words bounced off the walls of the room, coming back to the center with even more power.

The chant died off, the melody sinking into the floor, and the power draining down the sink. My body ached to hear that chant again, to feel that kind of power.

"Here," the Master said, handing the vial back to me, "drink, and consume the power of the Graceling."

I took the vial, marvelling at it's deep ruby color as I removed the lid and enhaled it's glorious scent.

I closed my eyes as I felt the cool glass on my lips, and tipped in the wondrous, wondrous beverage.

I tried to preserve the taste of it on my tongue, to keep a memory of that phenominal taste, but it slithered down my throat, gone, for now at least.

A surge of electricity flowed through my body, making my hair stand on end for a split second before it died down and went back to normal.

I raised a hand up, hesitantly, and reached deep inside for the power of Zeus. A blinding flash filled the room, scorching the ceiling, not that you could tell in the dark, but you could certainly smell it.

"Very good," the Master said, laughing slightly, "I'm sure you will get a hang on it quickly enough."

I hung my head in embarrassment. I wanted to be able to use it now. I wanted to show the Master what I could do now.

"Meanwhile keep practicing," he said, "and soon, you and I, will overthrow the gods."

He dismissed me with a wave of his hand and walking backwards, I made my way out of the room, only to fall down a deep hole leading to the center of nowhere...

***
I sat up gasping for air, enhaling it deeply as if I couldn't get enough of it.

"Percy!" Annabeth cried out in relief, wrapping her arms around me.

"How long was I out?" I asked, trying to shake the last tendrils of the nightmare out of my head.

"You blanked out, but then you started moaning, and moving around," she explained, "almost as if you were in a fight. Then, I started to get really worried. Because–"

She lifted up my arm, showing me the deep scratches on them. Scratches from Jason. Scratches meant to kill.

I looked down at my faded orange t-shirt and attempted to hold in the lurge my stomach gave. It was drenched in blood. Jason's blood. My blood. It was all the same once it was splattered on a shirt.

"Oh gods," I said, rubbing the back of my head in realisation, "I think I may have just shifted to the future."

Author's note:
The original title for this chapter was "so you thought my scribe forgot about adding the dark stuff in? Lol, nope."