By Inferno's Light [ Percy Jackson OC ]

SIX | Linus

LINUS DIDN'T LIKE HARPIES any more than he liked ravens screaming at him. Cold sweat drenched his brown hair. He could smell winter through the shattered window, though the stench of the harpy's rotting wings almost drowned it out.

"Snack for hungry harpy!" she screeched. "Smells good. Smells like…" An unnatural series of clicks followed as she twisted her head from side to side.

Just like the raven. He didn't appreciate being looked at like prey.

"Smells like death, smells like decay. This harpy knows what these smells like."

Linus didn't have control of his own muscles as he kicked up at the bird woman's abdomen. She hissed in anger, stumbling back. Linus clawed his way over the bed. He half rolled, half jumped to his bag on the other side. He heard pounding through the walls. He heard the beating of wings behind him. But Linus ignored it. He had to get to his sword.

"Smells like death."

Linus pushed it to the back of his mind. There it was. The imperial gold blade his father had stored away from so long. The only thing that had gotten him through the winding freeways and tiny Canadian towns.

He wrapped his hand around the gladius. The harpy's hot breath stank. Linus smirked as he pushed himself to his feet, gladius at the ready.

Hot pain shot through his leg. Linus shouted as he fell to his knees. The bunched up comforter of his hotel room bed drowned it out but it couldn't drown out the shooting pain from his twisted ankle. Stupid ogre.

"Smells like decay."

Thanks Mom. Not "smells like honeysuckles" or "smells like peaches". While it would've been embarrassing to smell like a Bath & Body Works all the time, he'd rather that than have a literal rotting bird woman call him stinky.

He swung the gladius from his knee. The harpy leapt backwards, shrieking at the sight of Imperial Gold. Two of her black feathers fell. Not quite raven feathers. But close.

Too close. He needed no reminders of that black bird with the haunting woman's voice which filled his mind every night. From what his father had taught him, Proserpina didn't have any association with ravens or crows, corvids of any kind.

Honestly, it was kind of insulting that a bird talked to him more than his own mom. She hadn't even bothered to call once. Dad said she was busy. Linus didn't believe him.

He had to find the bow. He had to find it.

Linus swung again. He gritted his teeth as he stood off the ground. Wobbling at the shooting pain, he just reminded himself of the end goal. Get the cool bow before going to the Wolf House. Then he would be respected.

Maybe the wolf, Lupa his dad had called her, maybe she would let him bypass the trials. He took a step forward, forcing the harpy back to the shattered windows out to the balcony. He'd show them. He was good enough. He could survive out in the real world.

He didn't need some structured military camp for troubled demigods.

Thunder rolled in the distance. The scent of winter faded, replaced by petrichor and apple. Linus swung again. Lightning flashed.

The gladius shined gold in the dark. The harpy squawked. She struggled, flapping into the air beyond the balcony. Rain drenched them both. Linus grinned. He could do this. He was good enough.

Sirens exploded around him. Painful drawn out wails accompanied flashing red and blue lights. Linus frowned. The Harpy grinned.

"Smells like death, decay," she said again. "No. Smells like… betrayal."

Linus swung the gladius. The harpy never dodged. She just smiled, bearing fang like teeth. A cold shiver ran down his spine. Even as she fell, a pile of dust drenched by the rain, he backed away.

He'd seen this so many times. Too many times. Lightning flashed, drowning out the police sirens. Monsters didn't die anymore. Not really. They would come back.

Linus sheathed tha gladius. He didn't want to turn his back on the dust-monster but he had to go. He had to run.

The hotel room had been trashed. Linus wrenched his backpack from the ground and barreled towards the door. His ankle ached. The harpy had said he stunk.

Linus lifted his arm. He sniffed. Apparently death, decay, and betrayal smelled like teen sweat and pomegranate.

Leaving civilization barely phased him these days. He'd done it so many times. He wondered how many towns had warrants out for his arrest. Did they see the monsters?

Dad did, but he was a Legacy. Linus didn't know what others saw. Maybe they'd just seen him murder an old woman. Or maybe a vulture.

A blanket of rain settled over his skin. Out here, on the endless straight roads, he tried to block out the isolation. The only people he ever saw on the interstates were buses and trucks.

Something drew him forward. Linus wasn't sure how he knew where to find the bow, but he did. He just knew it. He felt it in his bones. Maybe he owed that to the sliver of Apollo-blood running through his veins.

Could gods bleed?

A harrowing scream sounded to his right. Linus startled back. Another persistent yelp answered the first. Coyotes. He gripped the hilt of his sword harder.

He didn't know if gods could bleed but demigods could. His ankle hurt. His shins stung. A scrape on his cheek ached.

What had he done to deserve this? The nightmare of leaving home to the scream of a raven echoed in his mind. He'd never seen that bird in the waking world but he knew her. She haunted every foot step.

Couldn't be Mom. Linus kicked a rock down the side of the interstate. It tumbled out of view in the dark haze of the midnight rain. No, couldn't be Mom. She had better things to do.

That was just the way things were, Dad said. Gods and Goddesses ran busy lives. Proserpina helped run the Underworld, after all. Half the year, she waited trapped in darkness.

Linus yearned to sleep. To rest. So many days on the road and so little to show for it. But he hadn't left home for nothing. He just needed sleep.

Lights glimmered up ahead. Linus grinned. He loosened his grip on the hilt of the sheathed gladius. A town.

The lights brightened. Linus stopped. His face fell. Tires again tarmac screeched by him. Not a town. A truck. Another truck.

Pain. Blood. Exhaustion. Monsters.

He'd had enough. Linus felt tears prick at the sides of his scrunched up eyes. He wanted a bed. He wanted a shower. But all he got were trucks.