Hi guys! This is my first fanfic and so… I hope you enjoy it! I tried my best to make sure that they weren't too many mistakes. Also reviews are appreciated but not required. After chapter 10 they are though. :[ Lol just review if you want and enjoy the story! :D

Disclaimer: I do not own PJO in anyway, so please don't sue.

Can you keep a secret? If the answer is yes then please, keep reading. But if you answered no, I think its best you shut the computer right now. Not for my sake but for your own. Who knows what information you might leak out, but what I do know is that if you do tell anyone then it's only a matter of time before they come looking for you. And trust me, you don't want that. But don't blame me if bad things happen. I already gave you fair warning…

I guess you could say it all started the day I was born. I never really knew my Dad, but I knew enough about him to know he wasn't the best father figure. My Mom wasn't really Mom of the year either, but she was more of a role model in my life than my Dad was. I can still remember her smell; some kind of fruity perfume I could never figure out. So back to the day I was born, I don't remember it, seeing as I was so young, but my Mom told the story so many times I highly doubt I will ever forget it…

"The day you were born… I don't even know where to begin! Okay let me start from the beginning; it was a dark and gloomy Friday and the date read June 17, 1998. I was at home since my due date was so close and the birth was expected to happen any time soon. Your Father was away on a… business trip, but he had promised to be home for the momentous occasion. Even though your Father wasn't always around, I knew he would keep his word. But when my water broke I had to call a neighbor and she had to drive me to the hospital, where I was strolled into the Emergency room.

"I was giving up hope that your Father would come because I was almost done giving birth and he still hadn't shown up. But then just as I was about to give up, because mind you 6 hours in labor is hard, I felt someone hold my hand. I looked up and, lo and behold, there was your Father smiling down at me telling everything was going to be okay. That's when you were born. But instead of screaming and kicking, you were born quiet. I saw the look of worry on your Father's face and I knew something was wrong.

"The doctors tried over and over again to try to get you to come back alive, but after a couple of minutes they pronounced you dead. I remember crying into your Father's shoulder and then he leaned down and told me the Fates had given you a second chance.

"I didn't understand at the time, but then I started to hear you cry and for the first time ever I felt the need to protect; the need to defend someone other than myself and ever since then my life has been changed. But Catherine, the most important part of this story is the lesson involved; life has twists in turns but no matter what, the Fates always do what's right." My Mom smiled down at me with her black eyes and gave my dark brown hair a ruffle.

The memory faded away into blackness. I shook my head, as if to tell myself not to replay things like that. That happened a very longtime ago and from past experience I learned not to dwell on the past, it just keeps you tied down. But now I don't live in a house with my Mom or even in a house. I've been living in a top secret government compound for the past 7 years of my life. Give or take a couple of months.

The time my Mom died, when I was 6, to now which is… man, it gets harder to remember the date each year… 2012! So that means I'm 13. Even though it might seem like it, things aren't that bad here, although it does get lonely sometimes. But I don't really care about not having friends. I'm not really the social type because since that fateful day that my Mom died in a car accident, I've been trained by the government to become a killer. An assassin.

I never said it was an amazing life, but it's a life and I know what they do if you try to leave… I could try to escape, but what's the point? They broke my spirit long ago, and who would I go to? My Dad? Haha, fat chance! As if he would even take me in (And what if he was some psycho or something?) and how would I even go live with him seeing as I don't even know where he actually lives… But who would want me? I'm a killer, a murder, a person who will pay for their actions in Hell and people like me don't get any more than one, second chance…

"Number 0001; stand up as you were ordered moments before." A man with a white mask demanded… again. I stood up slowly, knowing from previous events that standing up quickly usually alarmed "The Masked Ones" as I called them. They, The Masked Ones, always looked the same; white masks that only have holes for their eyes, white lab coats, those plastic disposable gloves, and dark brown "fancy" shoes. Haha, those shoes were about as fancy as the white Egyptian cotton shirt and pant set I was wearing and last time I checked, the slippers that I wear aren't what everybody's showing up in at the latest social events.

I thought back to one memory with The Masked Ones in it. I've made a lot of memories while staying in the facility, but I still remember the first thing I ever read aside from the school books that I got during my "home school session." When I was 7, I somehow got my hands on a pamphlet about three pages long and it turned out to be instructions on how The Masked Ones should wear their outfits to, I assume, make it seem like they were all the same person. However, around that time I noticed that there are some things you couldn't change about a person; like the color of their skin or the color of their hair. I told my observations to only man I knew in the facility who wasn't one of The Masked Ones and that's when everything changed.

Ever since then, I can tell they have hired people that have the same hair color and skin tone, same sex type (male), and the same monotone voice. That's also when I started to get called Number 0001 instead of Catherine. I can still remember John, the only non-masked one man I knew, sitting me down and telling about some changes that were coming. Like about me training for special reasons and about the name change. He told it was best not to ask questions, in his silky voice, and said that the people higher than us ordered this change. And I, being a naïve 7-year old, just nodded my head and went with the flow.

Uh! How could I be so stupid? Couldn't I tell they were trying to control me? I finally turned back to The Masked One after being in my personal bubble for about 5 minutes. I didn't really feel like talking to him anymore.

"Okay, what do you guys need this time? Another prince to hold for ransom? Killing off an ambassador for getting on your wrong side? Or maybe stealing candy from a little girl?" I snapped. If there was any word I could use to describe The Masked Ones, is was not stupid. They had learned a long time ago that when I got into moods like this, it was most likely because I was thinking about my Mother or I was thinking about how I was being kept here against my will. Usually it was a mixture of both.

"Number 0001; do you need the pill?" The Masked One asked in an almost bored sounding voice as usual. I inwardly sighed; they never listened to my rants. But he had asked me if I wanted the pill right? I had first taken the pill a couple of days after the car accident, when I had an anxiety attack in my bed room. They had to force it down my mouth then, but now I take it willingly since I've become practically hooked on the drug.

Lately I've been able to stay off that cursed substance for three weeks, and still counting, but it's been a hopeless cause; like Sisyphus forever trying in vain to push a rock to the top of a hill. No matter what I did, I always craved the pill. I would swallow my food without chewing hoping they had noticed my dilemma and had snuck in the substance secretly, but all I got was indigestion and a very upset stomach. I had also been losing sleep over my dreams about my Mother that only the pills can suppress and I had also been getting bags underneath my eyes over the stress I've been getting from thinking about staying here my whole life. I think enough, is enough.

I slumped my shoulders in defeat and held out my hand in a universal gesture of "give it to me." I felt a cool, small button-sized object dropped into my hand and I popped it into my mouth and bit down on it. Instantly I felt the drug kick in and my face changed into one of relaxation (well I imagined it did). I turned to The Masked One and told him I was ready to go with him now. If you didn't know that I had taken the pill, you probably would have assumed I was drunk because I swayed dangerously to the door.

" Follow me." The Masked One demanded simply. I followed him down multiple hallways and around to many corners to count until we reached two rather large oak doors. I stared up at them in surprise. In the 7 years I've lived here, all I have seen are white metal doors with stainless steel door handles. And along with the white walls, white tables and white benches, it wasn't the most colorful place I've been in. Not that I've been to a lot of places… Anyways, seeing something different, even wood, was a real treat, even a miracle. I was taken out of my inner thoughts when The Masked One opened the door to find that John was in the room… But with someone else?

~~~~~!~~~~~

"Catherine, sit down please." John said in his usual silky voice. I used to have a crush on John when I was younger, but then I found out he was just a jerk who only liked me because I was his guinea pig. Someone he could poke and prod with a stick and still get handed a pay check from the government. I grimaced and sat down without talking to or looking at John, even though I did noticed he used my real name instead of my facility name, but all of my attention was on the black haired man sitting next to me. I would have said he was handsome if we meet under different circumstances but anyone that was a friend of Johns, was not a friend of mine. But one thing I noticed was we looked a lot alike.

Once I got a closer look at him I noticed that his hair wasn't black, it was a very dark brown shade, just like mine. We both had the same eyes, dark brown with flecks of black, and we both had pale skin; though his skin seemed to pull off a slight olive-toned-but-still-pale-skin look. I was just plain pale, probably from all the years with barely any sunlight. I guess not all of us can have to contrasting shades of skin at the same time.

But the big difference between us was his clothes; he wore all black. And I'm not talking just a black shirt and jeans, I'm talking black jeans with black converse and some very scary pictures of bands on his black shirt. I didn't think it was possible to look anymore punk until I noticed the black chain hanging from his pants and that's when I realized what it meant to be Goth. I was just staring with my eyes wide open at the "Goth" until he uncomfortably cleared his throat.

"Umm… Hi, I'm Nico di Angelo and I'm guessing your Catherine." He held out his hand, as if wanting to shake my hand. I looked at for a couple of seconds, then shifted my gaze to his face and glared at him.

"Want do you want this time?" I had never seen this man before, but all the clients were the same. Wanting me to do their dirty work not even caring that I was just a child and shouldn't be exposed to murder and killings. Even if I was the one doing the killing… But it still made them dirt bags inside.

"Haha Catherine, always a joker." John said brushing off my question, but the sentence held a threat saying behave-yourself-because-this-is-a-very-important-client. I've gotten that a lot. It seemed that every client was important. (Even though I've only had about 173 clients, because John thought I was only ready to start killing people until this year. How thoughtful.) "So Mr. di Angelo, what services do you require from are…specialists."

"Well," said "Mr. di Angelo", whatever I'm so calling him Nico, "I need Catherine to come scope this camp for-"

"Wait a second!" I interrupted, "You want me to scope a camp?" If you could make sarcasm into water I'm pretty sure I had just dripped enough to hydrate everyone in Africa. I mean come on, a camp? That's the best they can come up with? I've infiltrated the Royal Palace in England, I've broke into a Duke's refrigerator and stolen his milk, and I've snuck into so many banks I lost count and they give me a camp to scope… And why I'm I letting someone so young boss me around? I know he's older than me because he looks about 18, but still that's relatively young.

Acting as if my outburst never happened, Nico told me, "Catherine. Wait. Can I call you Cathy? Ya I'll call you Cathy. This isn't just any camp, it's a… special camp. You'll see the difference when we get there." I huffed. Well a job, is a job right? And it's not like I can say no or anything. I stared at him for a couple of seconds then I stuck my hand out for him to shake it. He took it hesitantly and we both shook hands.

"So when's this job?" I asked. He looked at me with an amused face and said to me,

"Right now."

~~~~~!~~~~~

"So this is it?" I asked in disbelief. All I saw was just a green hill with a large pine tree up at the top and a couple of flowers scattered here and there. I had to admit, it was pretty, but not "Oh my Gods it's so pretty I'm going to explode!" Wait. Did I just say oh my Gods? Wow, I'm going crazy. I mentally cursed myself, "Maybe instead of talking to myself I should scope the area like the job description says!" Just then I heard Nico move slightly so I turned my head to him.

"Come on." he said, "Just a few feet further." We snuck quietly through the trees (you know for someone who isn't an assassin, he's pretty good at this) and then something weird happened.

As if a veil just had been lifted, a town of some sort came into view.

There were kids playing around in a lush strawberry field, while other kids were splashing each other with water and giggling. Well at least they looked like kids, for some reason they looked as if they were made out of water. But that's impossible right? Right. After finishing my internal conversation, I looked back to the camp and noticed the cabins.

They were over 20, I couldn't waste too much time counting at them, and each was unique in their own way. One had flowers and vines that seemed to be the roof, while another had barbed wire around it with, what seemed to be, a kindergarten art project for a paint job. But not only that but you should have seem the dining area! I could tell the camp director must be a big fan of Ancient Greece because the dinning pavilion looked just like I would imagine one would look like in that time period. Along with the coliseum and the green fields, it looked like paradise. Now this is what I would call pretty and voice it out loud.

` "Wow! This is really pr-" I started but was cut short by a sharp pain in the back of my neck. It all happened so fast it seemed impossible to remember, but right after the sharp pain in my neck I was lying face down in the ground with someone tying my hands behind my back.

"I'm really sorry for this Cathy, but there was no other way." I heard a man's voice say, like he was apologizing. Who said that? Oh ya Nico… But what is he apologizing for? I guess at that time my mind finally started to realize what was happening, but for some reason I was finding it harder and harder to keep my eyes open. I started to struggle and the end result was another sharp pain in my arm. "Just go to sleep Cathy. Just go to sleep." Nico whispered and that's when the darkness over took me…

*peeps out from around the corner* So…what do you think? If you liked it please review! But if you didn't I just want to let you know I cry easily. Jk! :P About the crying… I mean it about the reviewing! :D