A Different Kind of Demigod

Did I not say this would be out by Halloween? Did I not so say so? Ladies and Gentlemen…Son of Jashin!

This version of Percy is going to be off his rocker even more than the Wide Smile. After weeks of brainstorming powers and limitations, backstory and plot, character interactions and just how AU this world is going to be, I got the ball rolling!

What are these powers, you ask? These limits, this backstory, this Alternate Universe? Well my friends, read and find out.

Some heads up before you dive into this madness: Percy is not sane. Sally was not sane. Jashin is not a nice guy. The Shinto gods are not nice deities. There will be blood, lots and lots of blood, and language. There will be body horror, and self-mutilation. There will be a very tragic and disturbing upbringing. Percy will know jutsu, and have and affinity for Fire Style. There will be Shinto demigod OC's, but they will appear later on. There will be elements of Naruto, but not enough, I feel, for it to be labeled a crossover.

OhandPoseidonneverbroketheoathandthediAngeloswereborninmoderntimes.

Disclaimer: Naruto and all related terms and products are property of Masashi Kishimoto, while Percy Jackson and all of its terms and products are property of Rick Riordan.

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Maine

December 15, 2007

Bianca di Angelo, and her two friends, Annabeth Chase and Thalia Grace, were driving up to a place called Westover Hall, because everyone's mutual friend, Grover Underwood, and sent out a distress call saying that he had found something, but was too scared to say what it was. As such, Chiron the Centaur was sending in his best and brightest to check out what was going on in the North.

The girls were all silent, even Maria di Angelo, Bianca's mother, was not saying anything. Everyone was lost in their thoughts. Maria on what was about to happen to her 14-year-old daughter, and what her 12-year-old son Nico was doing at home by himself in Manhattan.

Thalia was reminiscing on what life has been like since the Golden Fleece had brought her back to life from the tree. While relieved to see Annabeth alive and well, saddened by Luke's betrayal (and pissed off), she still didn't know what to make of newest cousins, Bianca and Nico di Angelo. Sure they were nice kids, and really sweet people, but they were children of Hades. Their dad almost killed her (Thalia), and, while it was stupid, even she would admit it, but the daughter of Zeus just couldn't find it in herself to be friends with her cousins. But they were good acquaintances.

Annabeth was busy brainstorming each and every possibility she could think of what had Grover so spooked. She thought of everything from the logical to the illogical. A new recipe for ambrosia? Maybe. Another child of the Big Three, perhaps Poseidon? Possibly. A female satyr that was really attracted to Grover? Unlikely. A completely new child altogether, born of either a Titan, Primordial, some other minor god, or a virgin goddess? The odds were slim, but it was a possibility. There was always a possibility.

Bianca was having similar thoughts to all three. Like her mother, she was worried about Nico being home alone. Like Thalia, she just couldn't figure out a way to be friends with her cousin (and she couldn't really find the motivation, either), but she was fine with being acquaintances. Finally, like Annabeth, albeit on a much smaller scale, she was thinking over what had Grover so freaked out.

Ah, Grover…her and Nico's protector back when they attended Yancy Academy in New York, two years ago. Life was so much simpler then. Bounce around private schools together until one thing or another got them kicked out, deal with stupid teachers, the occasional monster, wonder who their dad was and why he was never around.

Then Luke Castellan had decided to steal the Master Bolt and the Helm of Darkness. The lives of the di Angelos changed forever.

As it turned out, their father was the Greek God Hades, Lord of the Underworld. Their esteemed daddy sent his Fury, Alecto, to retrieve them before they could be killed, only a misunderstanding had occurred that resulted in Bianca killing her math teacher with a pen-sword-thingy that was terribly balanced.

Then the brother and sister were whisked off by Grover, who revealed himself to be a satyr of all things, to a place called Camp Half-Blood…where another emissary of their father's, the Minotaur, came to try and retrieve the children of Hades, only for the same misunderstanding to occur. Long story short, Bianca and Nico walked away with a pair of giant bull horns, while their mom was apparently killed.

Life at camp was pretty boring, aside from that bathroom incident and the shadows. Until the capture the flag game, where Hades tried once more to bring his children to his side via Hellhound. Same misunderstanding, same result. Although the di Angelos did get claimed that night, which was awkward as hell and raised many red flags.

A quest ensued, involving Bianca and Nico (because there was no-way she was leaving her brother behind in the lion's den), Grover, and a daughter of Athena, Annabeth. It was an eventful thing, with monsters, gods, and hopeless situations involving national notoriety, monsters, and almost falling into Tartarus.

The children of Hades did meet their father, though, and discovered that their mother had only been captured, not killed, and was spending some quality time with her lover. They also discovered that they were loved unconditionally, and that Ares was a traitor.

That was one intense beach-battle.

Then, a year later, someone poisoned Thalia's tree, and another quest to save the camp, and the world by extension, ensued, this one involving the Sea of Monsters. Turns out that Poseidon was pretty chill as an uncle, and even gave the quest some helpful advice, despite Nico and Bianca being there. Perhaps the most interesting thing about that quest wasn't the actual Sea, or Polyphemus, or Luke's ship, or Clarisse's zombie ship.

It was Circe's Island. Sweet place really; good service, nice people, beautiful scenery, the only problem was the almost-forced-to-stay part. It took some convincing, like a display of writhing shadows and crawling skeletons, but they managed to get out of the place without killing anybody or destroying anything. Not bad, given the Greek demigod history track record of mass killing.

"We're here," Maria said. They pulled up in front of a castle right out of the fantasy books. Looked rather intimidating, actually. Bianca had a passing thought that Grover had gotten spoked by a ghost, but since she couldn't sense any lingering spirits (daughter of Hades thing), she quickly dashed that theory. Something was up here, though, that was for sure.

The girls filed out of the car, leaving the comfortable heat for the freezing cold.

"Thanks, Mom," Bianca said with a smile. The di Angelo matriarch smiled back, but she was still a mother. "Are you sure you want me to wait here?"

"Yes, Mom. We don't know how long we'll be here."

"Okay…but be careful. Look out for strangers, and stay close to your friends. And make sure to put on clean underwear if you have to stay the night."

Bianca's cheeks burned despite the cold, while Thalia and Annabeth giggled behind their hands. "Y-Yes, Mom. Bye, now."

She shut the door before her mother could start relaying the 'if-you-have-an-accident' speech, that hadn't had to be applied in ten years yet was always covered, for whatever reason. The car drove off into the cold night, and Bianca was already missing her mother.

"You have a nice mom," Thalia said randomly.

"Uh, thanks." There was an awkward pause. "Let's get inside; it's cold out here."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Ten seconds after entering through the giant wooden doors, the girls were greeted by two people, man and woman, dressed in black military uniforms complete with red trimming. The woman had a faint mustache, while the man was clean-shaven, which seemed odd. The man also had heterochromia, with one brown eye, one blue eye.

Bianca could immediately tell this guy was a monster. Call it a child of Hades thing, but she could sense the death surrounding this man.

"And who are you three?" the woman asked haughtily.

Thalia stepped forward, snapping her fingers, which caused a gust of wind to spread over the entrance foyer, disturbing the hanging tapestries. "We go here, remember? We're Thalia, Annabeth, and Bianca, eight grade students."

The woman's eyes were glazed over, while the man kept a stony expression.

"Ah…I-I see. Yes. Thalia, Annabeth, and Bianca. Why are you three not in the gymnasium, at the dance?" Just then, Grover came running down the hall, panting and out of breath. "You all made it, great!"

The man looked at the satyr with an irritated look. "And just what is that supposed to mean, Mr. Underwood? These young ladies attend school here."

"Of course they do, sir," Grover said smoothly. "I was talking about the punch. It's an excellent batch tonight, guaranteed to hit the spot." Huh, the girls didn't remember the clumsy satyr as being such a silver-tongue. Just what had happened here?

"Yes, what excellent punch," the woman said dreamily, eyeing the girls with disturbing approval. "Now run along all of you. Do not leave the gymnasium again, understand? And if any of you insist on engaging in explicit activities, make sure your partner is using protection."

Grover took this in stride, Bianca, Thalia and Annabeth were all red-faced and spluttering. The satyr lead his friends down the hall, all them still shocked that someone would say that to them. They came to a stop outside a big set of modern doors, with a large sign that said GYM across the top on the wall.

Grover breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank the gods you made it."

Thalia, after finally regaining her bearings, asked, "'Engage in explicit activities,' 'partner using protection'? What the Hades!?"

"Hey!"

"Sorry, Death Breath, but still. What was that about?"

"Thalia...this is the twenty-first century," Grover said that as if it explained everything. The girls still looked lost. Demigods didn't exactly have access to premium social media, or the news at all for that matter, so they were lacking just a bit when it came to current events regarding the youth of America. "Teens today have a tendency to, uh...fornicate more frequently."

The girls all blushed in a synchronized crimson.

Annabeth coughed into her fist, recovering first. "So you said you found something?"

Grover nodded. "Yeah. A half-blood, but he's...strange."

The girls looked at him. "Strange how?" Bianca asked.

"Strange as in he smells like he regularly takes a bath in blood, can't say one sentence without throwing in one cuss word or another, and he has a relationship with a scalpel like Two-Face has a relationship with a coin."

"A scalpel?" Annabeth asked slowly. "Just who is this kid?"

"Well, his name is Percy Jackson, and his aura's more powerful than Thalia and Bianca combined."

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San Francisco

April 2, 2005

A young boy, maybe ten or so, was walking down the crowded streets, weaving his way through the people. This boy had messy black hair, and highly unusual purple eyes. He was wearing blue jeans, black sneakers, a white t-shirt, and a black, fur-lined, sleeveless denim vest that fell down to his mid-thigh. He was also covered in blood. Huge amounts of blood. It looked like he took a shower in his clothes, but the shower sprayed blood instead of water. His arms were also covered in tiny little scars, but you couldn't see that due to the blood staining him.

He was also absentmindedly twirling his beloved scalpel around his fingers in a manner that would've had girls orgasming for days…not like this child actually knew what an orgasm was, aside from a man grunting like an animal and a woman screaming and moaning in a really annoying way.

If you couldn't figure it out, this boy is Percy Jackson, son of Jashin.

The reason why he was drenched in scarlet was because he had just finished his first mass sacrifice (including, but not limited to, his mother, his stepfather, twenty-nine other women, and probably thirty-eight men) to his asshole of a father, Jashin. Shinto God of Pain and Blood.

Right now, Percy was just walking down the street, thinking about what he wanted to do. Dad had said that if he killed thirty-one more people, he would get a present. Yeah his dad was a sack of shit, but his dad gave some cool presents. Like this unable-to-die power, as long as he had souls to offer, or damage wasn't immediately fatal, and his instant-repair clothes...that needed to be washed.

Someone roughly bumped into Percy. "Watch it, little shit."

Percy's purple eyes glinted. An overwhelming desire to murder and cause pain erupted like a volcano inside of him. That guy pissed him off, and he wanted to really hurt that man. And this is what separated Percy from 'normal' people. Normal people had an upbringing that went something along the lines of don't hit people, don't call people bad names, if you get mad, find a way to blow off steam that didn't involve violence, and definitely do not kill.

In schools, children got mad at each other and often lashed out with their fists. The punishment for fighting, or hitting period, was a spanking, detention, grounding, sitting in the corner, etc., not necessarily in that order, but still. Over time, these children developed a little voice in their head that said you'll get in trouble if you do that which typically led to a lot of unresolved conflict, and a burning desire to screw that person over sometime in the future. That voice was called a conscience.

Oh, Percy had a conscience too, he had a little voice. Only, his little voice didn't warn him about consequences, or something stupid like that. Percy's little voice told him to FUCK THAT BITCH IN THE ASS WITH AN ACTIVE JACKHAMMER!

Percy was behind the man that had bumped into him in an eerily fast motion, and swiped impossibly low with his scalpel (God, he loved this thing!). The man screamed as his Achilles tendons were sliced apart like butter. He didn't get a chance to hit the harsh concrete however, before Percy grabbed the man's shirt, hauled him up with impossible strength, gripped the back of his head (huh, it was a black guy), and began to repeatedly slam his fucking face into a conveniently placed parking meter.

It didn't even take four hits before the guy was dead, his face unrecognizable, but Percy kept on smashin'. It was therapeutic.

WEE-WOO

WEE-WOO

WEE-WOO

Percy blinked and paused in his mutilation, raising a brow when a contingent of police vehicles came swerving around the street corner. There was a red light in both directions, halting traffic, and making the street empty. Wow, how had he missed the lack of cars and people?

The police cars, three of them, came skidding to a stop, their tires screeching loudly, just feet away from the grinning Percy. The doors burst open, and four men and two women, armed with standard issue pistols, used their doors as shields as they pointed their guns at the son of Jashin, screaming things like put your hands up, get down on the ground, you're under arrest, the usual for police brutality.

Percy just giggled, dropping his corpse. His chest tingled a bit as the man's soul was added to the collection. He slowly raised his arms, crimson liquid dripping from them. Maybe that's why the cops seemed so violent, because he was covered in blood? Maybe they found the mess he made at the abandoned warehouse? That was a lot of bodies…

Seemingly satisfied with his compliance, one of the men, a rather large specimen of probably 6'5, large muscle, and chocolate-ish skin, came forward with a powerful gait. The man, Officer Tyrone, according to his name plate, wrinkled his nose when he got close to Percy. The boy was covered in blood after all.

Officer Tyrone made to pull Percy's hands down to cuff them roughly, but the Shinto demigod was infinitely faster than his Greek or Roman counterparts…and his Norse and Egyptian for that matter. His scalpel was nothing more than a flash of light as it carved cleanly through Officer Tyrone's crotch in a spray of crimson fluid. Percy could've easily aimed for the jugular, but he wanted to cause pain.

And there was nothing more painful to a man than slicing contact to the family jewels. Percy knew what a blade to the dick felt like from personal experience, and not from his own hands, either…let's just say that Sally had some issues.

Moving with supernatural speed and coordination, Percy swiped Tyrone's firearm from its holster, whirled around, and fired off five shots at an insane pace. The other five officers went down clutching their profusely bleeding necks almost at the same time Officer Tyrone hit the sidewalk. Percy was that fast, and he was holding back.

His chest tingled again as the souls were gathered, and not sent directly to Jashin the Asshole Dad.

Still, Percy was always struck with splitting migraines, terrible muscle aches, extreme lower abdomen pain (and not the good kind), and insane fatigue whenever he entered a conflict and didn't sacrifice at least one soul to his dad. It was Jashin's equivalent to spanking him for 'disrespect.'

Asshole Dad.

Percy stalked over to the whimpering and mumbling cop, spinning his scalpel rapidly around his fingers. He was humming a tune that sounded like 'Ten Little Indians.' Percy hopped up, landing on the cop's chest with a grin. The officer coughed, blood spurting from his mutilated crotch.

Percy wasted no time in carving the man's face, making sure to get the eyes, the nose, the lips, and the ears. Especially the tongue though. Tongue was always important. And so were the teeth. He could a few bucks for the teeth, if he went to the right people. He did know the right people, after all.

Then someone began clapping off to the side. "Impressive. Impressive. Disturbing and highly revolting, but impressive."

Percy froze, slowly removing his beloved scalpel from Officer Tyrone's brain cavity as he slowly turned his head to look at his unwanted audience. It was man in a three-piece Italian suit with some cool-looking scars on his face and his hair in a ponytail. Looked kinda like a fence-sitter and a pushover, but that wasn't important.

The man's interesting aura was what was important. He channeled a restrained power, like he was consciously hiding it from something. And boy was it a powerful aura. Percy was almost salivating at the thought of what he could leech off his father if he sacrificed this guy to Jashin.

This guy was probably a Roman god, considering that Camp Jupiter was less than a fifty miles to the east. Hm, Percy might have to stop by there one day, sacrifice a bunch of Roman demigods to Dad. Probably get some cool powers from that big of a haul…but he would also piss off the Olympians…maybe. These other gods seemed kind of lax when it came to their children.

Better than what the Shinto gods did though.

At least the other pantheons ask before they fuck.

"And who the fuck are you?" Percy asked with zero rudeness, arrogance, malice, ire, crassness, haughtiness, or impertinence. He had heard so many cuss words be thrown around when he was much younger, that his brain had hardwired them into everyday speech. Him cussing was as common as breathing, and, in his mind, it was perfectly natural. Everybody talked that way.

The man balked slightly at the crass language, wondering how a child could sound so innocent while saying such a word, while being covered in fresh and drying blood. Ignoring his feelings of disgust, the man answered. "I am Prometheus, the Titan of Foresight. I represent a growing faction that will soon become an army, and it would greatly please my compatriots and I, if you would be so kind as to aid our cause with your exceptional talents."

Purple eyes stared blankly at the son of Iapetus. A growing faction that will soon become an army? Boring. His compatriots? Probably the rest of those dumbasses, the Titans (seriously, how dumb do you have to be to mistake a baby for a rock?). Aid his cause? And what would that be? Finally, his (Percy's) exceptional talents…brownie chaser.

"I'd rather not. Thanks for the offer though, Scarface."

"Ah, I'm sorry to hear that. As it turns out, Perseus Jackson, your compliance was non-negotiable. You will be joining the Titans against the gods of Olympus, one way or another," Prometheus said darkly. The Titan snapped his fingers, and a bunch of green portals, swirling with white insides, opened up in midair. A battalion of Scythian dracanae slithered out of portals.

Percy's eyes lit up at the prospect of more souls for himself and his father. With the mounting confrontation clear at hand, the demigod got up from the now-dead officer, scalpel held in hammer grip. As he approached the soon-to-be sacrifices, he began to pray aloud.

"O Father who art in hell, hallowed be thy name. Thou kingdom come, thou will be done, on this plane, as it is on Thine. Be with me this day as I slaughter in your name, and forgive me for not spilling enough blood, as you forgive those who do not the same. And lead me not into pacifism, but deliver me from peace. O Father, I offer thou these blasphemous souls in exchange for your everlasting blessing. Amen."

Prometheus high-tailed it the fuck out of there when the first dracanae had her stomach slice open, spilling her guts all over the pavement, and didn't explode into golden dust. Since when was that a thing? And just who exactly is this kid to where Kronos was desperate to have him?

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Present Day

Present Time

Present Location

Percy was sitting at the very top of the bleachers, in the shadows. Over three years since his encounter with Prometheus, and he had just bounced around the continent, doing whatever, whenever, and however he wanted to do it.

Needed to kill in order to avoid unpleasant pain from his dad? Slaughter on the spot. Needed to eat? Steal it or kill it and cook it. Needed somewhere to sleep? Nature was fine, but sneaking into a five-star hotel was fun too.

Prometheus and significant others had tried recruiting him to their army numerous times over the years, to obviously no avail. That was why Percy was in Maine. Not hiding or running, per se, but wondering how long it would be before the Titans found him again.

Percy's overall appearance hadn't changed much, just remove the shirt, leave the jeans and vest, and replace the shoes with combat boots, and boom. Although, there a few additions to the ensemble.

First, he had a necklace that fell over his sternum, with a pendant of his father's symbol at the end. He had a ring on each of his thumbs, just a pair of steel bands, a ring on his left pointer finger-a simple thing, with an orange gemstone in the middle of a silver band, and the kanji for three inscribed on top-another ring on his left pinky-a signet ring, with Jashin's symbol stamped in flat-and a ring on his right middle finger that was made of human bone, that also acted as a storage seal for something special.

Speaking of bones, Percy had this cute little power now that he was dying to try out on something. It was Dad's present for killing 5,000 people.

Speaking of 5,000 corpses, Percy had become America's most wanted, literally. He was at the top of the most-wanted list in every department in America...not like American authorities would ever find him, considering he had about fifty different aliases. Transformation Jutsu was just so handy.

Yeah, he knew jutsu, he had chakra, a lot of it (his dad said he had about one-half the amount of chakra as some person called Shin'en), and he knew how to use both. He was particularly fond of his Fire Jutsu though. Nothing satisfying like watching his sacrifices burn to death with screams of pure agony.

Speaking of sacrifices, Goat-Bitch brought some friends…

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Grover pushed open the doors to the gymnasium, and the typical sight of a military-school dance greeted the girls and goat. They shuffled in, heads on a discreet swivel, looking for the half-blood Grover had described.

"There," Thalia eyed a section of the bleachers, and the rest of the group followed her gaze. Sure enough, a boy maybe a year older than Nico was lounging up high, twirling something metallic around his fingers at a dizzying pace. "What is that?"

"That's probably his scalpel," Grover said.

"His what?"

"His scalpel. A teacher took it from him one time in the middle of class."

Sensing more to the story, Bianca prompted, "And?"

"Oh, the teacher disappeared sometime in the night, and Percy had his scalpel back the next morning. The teacher still hasn't been found. That was eight days ago."

"He didn't do something to the teacher, did he?"

Grover shrugged. "Of course it's rumored, but there isn't any solid proof."

There was a pause. A swarm of piranha-like girls attacked this one boy. When they moved off, that same boy was covered in ribbons, lipstick, and makeup. Poor kid. The older boys, most of them man-children, hung out in the corners away from the crowds, plastic cups in their hands. They might've been drinking punch, might not be, but this was a military school. The odds of there being any alcohol were slim to none.

Bianca shook her head, bringing herself back to planet earth. She looked back up at the bleachers, and gasped. The others followed her startled gaze, and gasped as well. Percy was gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Percy looked at Goat-Bitch and his friends. Three girls, an intelligent-looking blonde (an oxymoron), a punk-girl with a set of really familiar electric-blue eyes (kinda like Jason; he was a good kid) and-holy whale shit! Was that Bianca di Angelo!? The same girl that kidnapped her mom, blew up a Camaro, a bus, and a national monument, and dueled some guy pistol to shotgun on a beach!?

Nothing compared to what he's done over the past three years to every major city in the U.S. from here Frisco, but still. Why didn't he ever think to blow up national monuments? Or steal the Declaration of Independence? That would've been fun...anyway.

Percy could sense monster again, and he was pretty sure it was Dr. Thorn. Seriously, what did that vulture get a doctorate in? Pedophilia? And if there was a monster, there was bound to be a Titan, or more monsters, and Percy didn't feel like dealing with that right now.

So, he cast a Mist-powered genjutsu over Goat-Bitch and friends, and made his way out the back door. What? He could manipulate the Greek Mist, his parentage didn't mean anything in regards to that power, and the genjutsu was powered by Mist because regular genjutsu messed up a person's chakra.

Other demigods didn't have chakra. Besides his cousins.

He met the daughter of Fujin in Yellowstone; blew apart half the forest in a friendly spar. Dad gave him some serious pains for letting her live, but Percy didn't care. He didn't feel like killing her, despite the promise of gaining her powers.

Part of the Shinto gods' reasoning for screwing a bunch of innocent women was to see what the offspring would do when presented with the prospect of fighting, killing the other, and gaining their powers. It was an interesting concept, borrowed from some place in Nevada called Death City-

"Wah!"

Something large and heavy hit Percy in the back, sending him skidding across the floor with screech. He slammed into a wall, conking himself hard on the head. He popped back up with annoyance written across his face. "Alright, who thinks they have a big dick-oh it's you, Tiny Penis."

Thorn's eye twitched at the insult to his phallic member. What's worse is that the brat didn't have so much as a sprinkle of malice in saying that. He said it as casually as someone spoke a regular name. And that made Thorn even more mad. Honestly, what did the General and the other Lords see in this half-blood that couldn't be found in either Thalia, Bianca, or Nico?

Thorn didn't understand, but understanding things was not in his job description. Getting this boy, and one of the other half-bloods if possible, to the rendezvous point was his job. Of course, he had other orders that were to be carried out in case specific situations were encountered, but the Manticore highly doubted anything like that would happen.

Thorn opened his mouth to start issuing orders, but his nose picked up the scent of approaching demigoddess. Just one it seemed, since the others were moving erratically around the gym. The daughter of Hades alone on a rescue mission? Perfect.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thorn grunted as he forced along Percy and the poisoned-by-way-of-his-tail-barb Bianca. The daughter of Hades had been caught by surprise, and Thorn had showed enough mercy to only graze her arm. Percy had just stood off to the side, giggling quietly. As the Frenchie moved them through the corridors, Bianca took the time to actually look at the boy she was trying to save.

He had a healthy skin tone, was probably two inches shorter than she was, couldn't be any older than her little brother, had multiple thin, faint scars lining his arms and his bare chest. Percy had some weird eyes too. Purple, of all colors. His black hair, almost like hers, was messy and wild, almost like Nico's.

And his ring. That bone ring on his right middle finger…Bianca got a disturbing vibe from the ring.

Despite what would otherwise be considered a hostile situation, Percy was disturbingly relaxed. It made Bianca worry that the kid didn't realize just how much danger he was truly in right now. Speaking of danger, Bianca shuddered to think of how mad Thalia would be with her for running off alone instead of telling the others.

She had seen Percy disappear out the door, and by that time the group had already split up, so she listened to her impulses and went after him. All she saw was Percy leaning up against the opposite wall, then something sharp sliced through her arm, then pain, and now this. Being led by definitely-a-monster Dr. Thorn.

Speaking of, the good doctor led the demigods to a door, and didn't even hesitate to through them open. Immediately, the frigid temperature of Northern Maine at night sank its teeth into Bianca's bones, causing her to shiver slightly. Thorn grunted, trudging into the snow.

"Wait! He'll freeze!" Bianca called out, referring to Percy and his lack of proper upper-body attire. Said boy just shrugged. "I'll be fine," he trudged out after Thorn. The daughter of Hades blinked, scowled, but a warning look from Thorn got her moving again. Her arm burned like hell, but she couldn't imagine how much crap Percy was going through, enduring almost-freezing temperatures without so much as a shirt. That vest might be fur-lined, but it didn't cover his arms or his torso at all.

Thorn led the half-bloods through the nearby forest, practically wading through the snow. Bianca was making a conscious effort not to let her teeth chatter, while Percy was wondering how many monsters Thorn had brought with him.

Every month, Percy's dad wanted 100 souls, or the God of Pain would inflict terrible tortures upon his own son for disrespect. Right now, Percy was already at 53, so he needed 47 more souls to appease his asshole dad. Of course, he could just sacrifice a few of the souls he had bound to himself, but that would take away his lives, and that was no good.

"Aren't you cold?" Bianca asked from behind.

Instead of turning around like most people do, Percy arched his back, grinning at her with an inverted smile that showed off all his teeth, "Nope."

His spine cracked as he righted himself. While creeped out, Bianca just chalked what she just witnessed up to childish antics. She had to be understanding here. Percy's godly parent was unknown, and whoever that god or goddess was probably passed down some crazy genes, and there was no telling what Percy's childhood was like. Maybe his strange behavior stemmed from some kind of trauma? Whatever the case, Bianca felt the same maternity for Percy as she did for Nico.

"Hey, don't worry. I'll get us out of this, I swear," the daughter of Hades reassured. Her arm still burned, but the pain was lessening. Percy just looked at her over his shoulder by tilting his head backward. He giggled a bit, before facing forward. Bianca couldn't tell if that was a good sign or not.

The forest opened up into a clearing that ended with the cliff. The churning of the cold ocean could be heard below.

Thorn grunted again. "And now we wait. In five minutes, my transport will be here, and you two will be coming with me."

Well that solved Percy's problem of gathering souls, but Bianca had other ideas. "And what do you want with us? We're just a couple of demigods."

Thorn nodded. "Indeed, you are just a couple of demigods, but you are powerful ones, and my superiors want you two at their side. And if you do not comply, there are many mouths to feed, due to the Great Stirring."

"The what?"

Thorn's mismatched eyes gleamed in the dark of the night. "The Great Stirring, daughter of Hades. Monsters are awakening by the hundreds; the strongest ones are already roaming the country as we speak. Soon, we'll have the strongest one of all: the monster with enough power to bring about the downfall of Olympus!"

Bianca looked horrified while Percy looked like he had fallen asleep while standing. The they were suddenly knocked to the ground by an invisible force. The son of Jashin kinda tuned out for a bit after that. The blonde had an invisibility hat, the punk had a spear and really cool shield, and was apparently the daughter of Zeus. Goat-Bitch had some pipes that controlled tiny vines and shrubbery. And Bianca had a black sword.

Oh and Thorn was some kind of cross between lion and scorpion. Pretty sure that was a Manticore.

Long story short, the Greeks had their asses handed to them by the monster, and Percy just internally blinked at the power difference between him and these guys. Seriously? They couldn't take down a quadruped with a French accent? And they called themselves the children of gods.

Bitch please.

Percy was one second away from stepping in and sacrificing Dr. Thorn to his father, when hunting horns sounded. There a bunch of streaks of silver in the woods behind, and the blonde cried 'the hunters!' while the punk scowled, Goat-Bitch swooned, Bianca looked confused, and Thorn looked like the punk.

"Impossible! Direct interference is against the Ancient Laws!"

A girl scout troop with a silver fetish emerged from the dead trees, armed with bows and knives, with snarling wolves at their sides, and hawks perched on a few shoulders. Percy was looking at them with a strange look. So many virgins in one place…Dad was probably going to really hurt him for not sacrificing at least one girl. The one with the auburn hair, especially.

"Not so. The hunting of all wild beasts is within my domain, and you, foul creature, are most certainly a wild beast." Definitely a goddess. Thorn growled, launching a massive volley of spikes from his scorpion tail. Arrows flew, intercepting and destroying the projectiles midair. A girl with a tiara stepped forward, bow primed and ready.

"Permission to kill, M'lady?"

Thorn growled again, turning his gaze at Percy, which had the consequent effect of making them center of attention of everybody present. "Last chance, boy. My superiors have grown tired of your evasion the past three years. Join us, or suffer."

Percy cocked his head to the side, his eyes wide and shining with some kind of emotion. Then a grin spread his face. "Go fuck yourself," he said cheerily. The jaws of many dropped at the casual usage of the f-bomb, even Artemis found herself raising her brows. She didn't remember children as having a vocabulary involving such harsh profanity.

Thorn's face contorted into one of rage, and he launched a bigger, faster, and sharper volley of poisonous spikes. Time slowed down as the projectiles flew. Grover played a desperate tune on his pipes, Thalia slowly yelled out 'move,' Annabeth watched wide-eyed. Bianca was screaming. Artemis had roared 'fire,' and her handmaidens responded with startling reactions, but their arrows were off.

It wasn't their bias against males, it was that they had underestimated the speed. Instead of their arrows destroying the spikes, they harmlessly grazed just millimeters behind.

The spikes slammed into Percy's frozen body, jerking him around due to the impact force. His shoulders, stomach, abdomen, sternum, legs, arms, and one even pierced his left eye all the way to his brain. The foot-long spikes stuck out of Percy's body like demonic quills. Time froze completely this time, cementing the image of the limp and bleeding Percy into the minds of all present.

Time resumed its normal flow, and the demigod collapsed to the snow, landing on his back. The white soon turned to red.

Bianca screamed, Grover froze his song, Thalia and Annabeth stared wide-eyed, and the Hunters had varying degrees of emotion. Some were stone-faced, some were looking away with closed eyes and clenched teeth. Artemis growled lowly. True, she was not fond of males, but that didn't mean she endorsed the killing of male children.

Her silver eyes glowed brightly as she glared at Dr. Thorn, causing the Manticore to pale. The monster began to slowly take steps back. Artemis advanced. "You wretched, putrid, pile of filth. I'll-!"

Giggling.

Soft giggling, like a child playing hide-and-seek and was having too much fun.

The giggling picked up, turning into mad cackles of deranged ecstasy.

Percy's body twitched, then his legs flexed, firmly planting his boots on the snow. Then he began to rise. Not pop up, not hop up, not put his hands on the snow and sit up, but rose like someone possessed. His back arched wretchedly, his bleeding arms hung limply, and his head flopped down. His legs straightened out, and then rest of his upper-body became erect.

Blood poured from each and every impact point, rivulets of crimson trailing down his face, his limbs, and soaking his clothes to saturation. All the while quietly cackling to himself. His laughter died away, replaced by a strained grin. Amazingly, and disturbingly, the spikes in his body began to fall out, like they were being pushed away from underneath.

As the projectiles fell to the snow, a tiny red dot began to shine in each orifice, even the one in his skull. The lights turned from pinpricks to glaring beams that completely filled the holes. When the lights faded, only bloody patches of skin were revealed. Even his eye was perfectly fine.

Still soaked in vermillion, Percy grinned with way too much joy for someone who just shrugged off mortal wounds. "That hurt," he said, his voice crazed, "and it felt so good, that I want you to feel it too."

Thorn was about to dive over the cliff, when his body suddenly seized up…then he howled in pain, writhing on the snow. The Hunters and demigods watched, transfixed at the spectacle before them. What was going on? How the Hades was that boy still alive? What kind of demigod were they dealing with?

"Feel that? That's what your own venom feels like, Dr. Thorn. All those spikes, all that phantom pain, all that poison…that's what you're feeling right now, Dr. Thorn." Percy giggled again. He reached into his right pocket, pulling out his beloved scalpel. He kept his gaze glued to the glaring and frightened and twitching Manticore.

"Why so serious, Dr. Thorn?" Percy brought his scalpel up to his mouth, sticking the blade inside of his left cheek. The son of Jashin suddenly turned savage, his purple eyes glowing brightly with insanity.

"Let's put a smile on that face!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Disturbed? Horrified? In love with it already? Good, very good. This is, without, going to be my most disturbing story yet, even more so than Xenomorphic.

Body horror, self-mutilation, child abuse, masochism, alcohol, attempted rape, pedophilia, actual rape, and much more. This isn't rated M, this is rated MA, as in 18+. I shouldn't even be writing this, but here it is.

What are Percy's powers? Why does he love using a scalpel? What purpose do his rings serve? Why did he remorselessly murder his own mother? Why so many people? Why so many questions?

This is my fifth story my friends…Favorite it! Follow it! And Review!