Luna's POV

"Luna dear, it's time to get up for school."

My father was attempting to wake me up for the last day of school. My father has always been so kind to me, he is tall and slim, and has generous eyes. The kinds of eyes that give you hope. They are a warm blue, the colour of the Caribbean Sea. Compared to my dangerous silver eyes that resemble the moon, he has the most wonderful eyes anyone could gaze upon.

"My sweet child please hurry, we're going to be late." My father calls out to me in his lovely voice.

"I'm already out the door," I call back cheerily.

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"Bye daddy," I yell back at my father peering out the window of his SUV.

As I open the door to my last day of freshman year I get a very strange feeling, a feeling like something bad is going to happen. Less than fifteen minutes later my teacher walks in the room. Mrs. Leaches is a wonderful woman, but an absolutely dreadful teacher. All she does is drone on about her terrible love life. She did her attendance; then sent us our separate ways.

First period was gym. We were in the middle of a dodgeball game when a humungous black dog interrupts our class. He had shaggy black fur that was midnight black and smelled of death. I was frozen I couldn't move. As the wall started to burn with bright orange flames, the other students screamed bloody murder and ran. My feet felt like lead; Luna, the girls with no fears, was petrified. As the dog started towards me, I willed every cell in her body to move. And so I ran. I ran until I had no breath in my lungs. As I stopped to take a break I instantly fainted, in the woods, in the middle of long island.

Conner's POV

Today was the day Travis and I head back to Camp Half-Blood. Most people mistake Travis and I to be twins considering how much we look alike. But we are only a mere ten months apart and fully related, same mother and all, (seems Hermes couldn`t stay away from our mum) anyways we both have very messy, very curly, dirty blond hair that is almost never tended to on my part, and extremely boring brown eyes.

While I was driving my silver Camaro back to camp, I saw a girl, no less than 16, running as if a monster was chasing her. Then my stupid self finally realized that she actually was being chased by a hellhound. I quickly got out of my sports car and bolted after the girl. Being the sleek age of 21, running was no problem for me, and being the son of the god of speed just adds to the mix. When I finally reached the mysterious girl, I found her to be passed out on the ground, probably from exertion. I gently scooped her up, bridal style, and carried her back to my car.