²OLDEN CROWN. heroes of olympus

Interlude

OLDEN CROWN
━━ interlude

━━ PERCY KEPT DREAMING of this girl.

               Sometimes it was just fragments of her: glimpses of curly, black hair, or flickers of a smile that was graced with a dimple on the left side, or amused eyes that were the color of deep amethyst. Most times, it was her laugh—light and airy, and so comfortable to listen to. Percy yearned to hear it again and again. Her eyes would glint like gems whenever she would grin at him, or roll them whenever he said something stupid. He could feel her interlocking their arms or fingers, almost like she was guiding him. But whenever he would try and hug her—gone. She would disappear like smoke, or like she was running away from him like water. No matter what he did, she kept getting further and further away, to the point he barely remembered what she sounded like or what she looked like.

               But there was one thing he remembered—her name. He remembered it like it was his own name—like it was rooted into the very back of his mind, as if nothing could sever him from it.

               Elisa.

               Elisa, Elisa, Elisa.

               He repeated it to himself like a mantra; to keep going, to not stop dead from exhaustion, to keep running, to keep fighting, to keep killing these stupid fucking gorgons—

               They should've died three days ago when he dropped a crate of bowling balls on them at the Napa Bargain Mart. They should have died two days ago when he ran over them with a police car in Martinez ( a car he definitely didn't steal ). And they definitely should have died this morning when he cut off their heads in Tilden Park.

               No matter how many times Percy killed them. No matter how many times he watched as they crumbled to powder, they just kept re-forming like large evil dust bunnies—limbs configuring together, fingers twisting into talons, and heads merging together from the pile. And Percy could never seem to outrun them.

               He reached the top of the hill and caught his breath, the stitch at his side begging him to stop running. How long since he'd last killed them? Percy had to think back ... two hours, maybe? They never seemed to stay dead longer than that.

               "Fuck me," he groaned, squinting as the sun glared down on him, making his skin burn. His forehead was drenched with sweat. "Can't they just die already?" he grumbled under his breath.

               The past few days, he'd hardly slept. He'd eaten whatever he could scrounge—vending machine gummi bears, stale bagels, even a Jack in the Crack burrito ( a new personal low for him ). His clothes were torn, burned, and splattered with monster slime. He stunk worse than sewage ( which for some odd reason ... he knew. Something about a fire-breathing giant and her with a gold shield ).

               He'd only survived this long because the two snake-haired ladies—gorgons, they called themselves—couldn't seem to kill him either. Their claws didn't cut his skin. Their teeth broke whenever they tried to bite him. It was like his skin was made of iron, but this gift also seemed to take a horrible toll on his energy. Percy knew he couldn't keep going much longer. Soon he'd collapse from exhaustion, and then—as hard as he was to kill, he was pretty sure the gorgons would find a way.

               Elisa.

               Percy forced himself to stand up straighter, wincing at the ache in his side and his joints. Where to run? Where could he go next?