The Proposal of Chaos (PJO)

Chapter 4

Percy stood still, feet bent, tracking her every move. He wanted her, the cloaked figure, to make the first move, partly to see her skill and partly because she could make a mistake. In a flash, she charged at Percy with no warning.

He stood his ground, stamping forward with his right foot a moment before deflecting her slash, giving him more power in the movement. Her sword was pushed to the right, giving Percy the chance to stab her, which he did. He aimed at her chest, an area which if he could injure would end the fight. Unfortunately, she just twisted out of the reach of the sword. She then lifted her own sword and disarmed him in a very complicated maneuver he had never seen before, his sword sinking into the depths of the ocean with a small splash, the object's displacement interrupting the rhythmic waves of the ocean.

Percy was shocked at what just happened. This cloaked figure was one of the hardest people he fought, just under Kronos, all because of her agility. Gaea wasn't that hard to defeat, given she was only good with her powers, not weapons. All Percy had to do was to lift her off the ground, her domain, and stab her--which was very hard, but his anger had supplied the energy and drive he needed.

Percy focused back into the fight when he saw the metallic sheen of a blade coming right at his neck, illuminated by the now slowly setting moon, aiming to behead him. He gulped nervously, ducking under the sword. Before the hand could retreat with the  sword, he grabbed the wrist, twisting it painfully. 

In his childhood, Percy was taught not to harm women, which he happily abided by and kept that as one of his main rules he would follow for the rest of his life. One thing he wasn't taught to handle were women who were trying to kill him. And so, he devised a new rule for that scenario:

He would let his fist do the talking.

Percy used his free hand and punched her ribcage, hearing a few satisfying cracks, signaling that he did some damage to her ribs. She hissed in annoyance and pain. At the same time, his left leg went behind her and swept her off balance by twisting her ankles off balance. He let go of her, both of his hands now on her sword's uncomfortable and slippery ice coated hilt, stopping her from stabbing him. He briefly wondered how in the world she could fight with it, since it was very slippery. He struggled to hold it steady.

Percy hit the tendons which powered all her fingers with his nails on his left hand making her hands temporarily go into shock, effectively stopping them from gripping onto the sword hilt. Percy easily twisted the sword out of her nonexistent grip, making her full body fall to the grainy, cold, and mildly uncomfortable sand since she was unbalanced and had nothing supporting her. He quickly stabbed her with her own sword, Riptide finally appearing in the pocket of his beige sweatpants.

She snarled in pain. "This isn't over!" She shouted, making an icicle in her hand. Percy's eyes widened in horror as she threw the sharp, conical, and translucent icicle at him. He desperately dove onto the ground, rolling away, but the icicle was magically homed into him, stabbing him in the stomach, an inch above where he got stabbed in the morning.

Percy groaned in agony--a very common occurrence for the past few days. The icicle's freezing temperature made it worse, adding intense cold to his long list of different reasons of pain.  His vision betrayed him, getting blurrier and blurrier. He faintly saw the red eyes of the remaining hellhounds charge at him, growling angrily. He presumed this was because he had killed their mistress.

Percy didn't have enough strength to do anything to defend himself. He watched as the pack cautiously started growing around him. He laid still, waiting for his death. Suddenly, he saw a humongous wave forming in the deep blue ocean, caught in the corner of his eye. When it hit the shore, it covered half of the beach in water, saving Percy from a diving hellhound, while also reenergizing him. When the water receded back to its place, only Percy was on the beach, the golden dust from the hellhounds mixing in with the now grainy and wet sand. The now wet sand stuck to his dry form, making him feel very uncomfortable.