A Tale of Romans and Slaves | PJO/HOO

Chapter 1: Percy

Look, I didn't want to be a gladiator.

For those of you who think that it's fun to be one, let me tell you: it's not. It's not some kind of fun game where everyone gets up at the end and has a party.

No, it's gruesome, horrible, and deadly. Being a gladiator means living a life of pain and death.

So if you're looking for a story with a happy ending, I suggest reading something else. I won't tell you if mine ends up happily, but I can definitely tell you this: most people's don't.

But if you like books full of death, misery, and a little bit of love, then you've come to the right place. But if not:

You've been warned.

Ψ🐬Ψ

It was a normal day in Argos.

My father, Poseidon, and I had just docked our boat after a fishing trip. The sea had been bountiful, and we had caught more than enough fish. While our trips usually ended after dark, today it ended at midday.

After selling most of our fish at the market, we packed up our things and started the trek home. My mother, Sally, was waiting for us.

After dinner, I started doing my chores. Seeing as we were a poor family, we only had a goat and a chicken. And it was my job to take care of them.

That's when it happened.

The trumpets sound blared out, alerting the entire city of the attack. 3 blasts. Romans.

I ran inside the house. My mother was opening our cellar, which was our only hiding place, while my father grabbed his sword. I knew that he was going to fight the Romans, and I quickly prayed for him.

Then my mother ushered me into the cellar, followed me in, and locked it.

I don't know how long we were in there, in the dark. Neither of us dared to light a match. I spent most of the time praying.

The sounds of the fight were faint, but I could still hear them. We lived right outside the castle, so the bloodshed was probably happening at our doorstep.

After a while, the sounds quieted down until I could no longer hear them. The silence was scarier than the noise. Because that meant the battle was over, and both my mother and I knew who had won.

Us Greeks were nothing compared to the Roman legion. I was surprised that our army had even lasted this long.

A hour or so after the battle ended, I heard the creak of footsteps on our floor. I held my breath, not daring to make a sound. After about a minute, I heard someone yank at the lock on our cellar.

My mother looked at me, the fear in her eyes visible. I was sure I looked the same way.

Eventually, I heard the click of the lock. Someone must've picked it.

The light blinded me as the cellar door opened. I felt someone yank me up, and I heard my mother scream. I tried to wiggle out of whoever held me's grip, but all I got was a slap to the face.

Once my eyes adjusted to the light, the Roman soldier had already tied my hands together and was shoving me out the door. My house had been illuminated with torches, and it was night. I saw other soldiers hauling people out of their houses too.