I watched as the two figures approached, their walk slow and steady as they made their way over to me.

I held back a grimace as they came near, bringing the stench of rotting flesh and burnt plastic with them.

Exhaling heavily, I tried to run through some words to use, to help defend my case but gave up, deciding to give an impromptu speech.

I help up my hands in surrender. "Look, guys, I-"

A low snarning noise cut me off, deep and guttural, causing a shiver to run down my spine. That wasn't normal.

I took a step backwards, reaching instinctively for my sword as they continued to approach, though their movement seemed choppier now, almost as if they were wading in water.

"Perseus Jackson," one of them hissed, a rough rasp of a voice, echoing in both my head and in front of me, making me do a double take.

The other one laughed maniacally, a sound that would haunt my dreams for the rest of my life-if I had one, that is.

"Two sets of monsters in a day," I said, drawing out my sword. "Boy, am I lucky."

They spat, their spit landing near my feet, steaming as it hit the ground, letting off a smell of dirt and burnt flesh.

Still snarling, they ripped off their police vests, exposing their taunt gray skin, stretch tightly over their hollow body, rotting in some places.

"We're just here to finish the job," they said, the double layered voice of theirs clouding my thoughts and making it impossible to think.

I slashed at them, uselessly. "Who are you working for?"

They smiled, a lifeless look in their blank gaze, the same, almost dark look as the nosoi had.

"The Master has plans for you, Perseus," they said. "Wonderful, wonderful plans."

I felt that familiar tug in my gut as I drew water out of the ground and emptied in on them with as much force as I could muster, but that only seemed to amuse them.

"We are the draugar," the one on the left said, hurling a tree branch out of the way, "and now youd friends are gone, we have direct orders to finish you off.

I shook off a flashback of Tatarus and started taking hasty steps backwards as they advanced towards me.

"Unnatural little halfling," their voice in my head echoed, as I tried-and failed, to shake it, as if thay would make the voice go away.

"We'll make sure your experience is very memorable."

A maniacal laugh erupted from them as they came right in front of me and lunged, turning the world a pure black.

***

Sounds were layered over each other, screams and calls for help, begs and pleads as I shook them off, and smiled, a sick, oily smile that somehow reminded me of all the villains I had ever killed, all the monsters I fought.

Do you even know how many lives you have taken?

I frowned, a deep crease forming in between my eyebrows. No. I didn't know how many lives I had taken, how many monsters, people, I had killed, stealing their breath behind their backs.

But the scariest thing was the way I felt. I delighted in the deaths, in the screams of pain. I felt no guilt, no remorse, nothing. I was completely and utterly numb.

I saw the gods talking among themselves, anxious about my rush of power, about the fact that I was becoming much too powerful, that I would come for them next. I assured them I wouldn't. But deep down everyone knew I was lying.

I saw the camps, both of them, in the remains and rubble of a big explosion, everything in irreparable tatters, the colors and life drained from the very souls of the people.

Chiron and the praetors were hastily ushering kids down tunnels, attempting to find anywhere, any place that may at least shelter them for the war that was to come, though they somehow all knew that their deaths were inevitable.

A little girl, no older than five tugged at the pants of someone I recognised, someone whose name tugged at the back of my mind, but refused to come. People were only obstacles. They hardly were important enough for a name.

"When is Daddy coming back?" the little girl asked, her clear voice reaching my ears on the wind.

Her mother's eyes turned to steel, yet something inside the hard gray of them seemed to crack, the sheer brokenness of them exposed to the world.

She quickly hushed the girl, hauling her on her back as they both disappeared in the everlasting night of the tunnel, probably never going to be alive to see the light ever again.

The raw laugh of a lunatic echoed in my ears, and it took several miscounted seconds to realise it was mine. All these people were going to die and I was happy. Oh so happy!

The Master patted me on the back, the ancient aura of his power making my head rush with giddy delight.

"There's a family you have to pay a visit," he said, "this is the last one."

My mouth smirked upwards in a grin. "Then we take over the world."

The Master laughed. "We've already done that."

My grin extended further as I traveled to my destination, yanking the cheaply painted door right off its hinges.

Inhaling deeply, I wrinkled my nose at the smell of baking, the toys scattered on the floor suggesting a nice, family home. I shivered in disgust.

I made my way to wear I could sense the bodies hiding, their innocence radiating themselves like a strong perfume. They underestimated my power.

Smiling, I traced the pictures on the wall. I would humour them. Just enough to let them relax. Just enough to louden their screams as I tortured their child.

The pictures were mostly the same, depicting the same family snapshots. Mom: looking happy, Dad: looking happy and proud, Child: doing something stupid or just being happy.

Stupid happy posers.

As I travelled further down the line, a new face cropped up. Or an old one who was no longer there. They were the happiest of them all, the light practically shining from the core of their sea-green eyes.

Something about that picture, something about that boy didn't sit well with me. I threw the picture across the room, the glass shattering as it hit the opposite room.

"Come out, come out wherever you are," I called, knowing exactly where they were hiding.

The mom came out, much to the protests of her husband, the stubborn look in her deep blue eyes fading as soon as she saw me. She smiled a careful, broken smile.

"Please," she said, falling to her knees, "take me instead. Leave my family alone."

I took out my sword.

"Please. Leave my family, please."

I took a step closer, looking down at her as her pleads morphed into helpless begs.

"Please," she screamed, tears running down her face. "Please, Percy."

I stopped short, that word, that name bringing out something I had long tried to bury. I brushed it away, my face turning stoney.

"Do not use that name," I spat, drawing closer, "with me ever again."

Then, I raised my sword and chopped her head clean off, scoffing at the fact that she could never use that name with me, even if she wanted to.

***

I woke panting on the ground, memories swirling as I jolted back to reality, the draugar nowhere in sight, though in the back of my head, I could still hear their lunatic worthy laughter.

Pressing a hand to my head, I wiped the sweat off my face, flinching as soon as I withdrew my hand to see the red smeared on my palm, blood I would never be able to get rid of, sights I would never be able to unsee.

The draugar were gone, but had left me with the weight of what-could-be, or perhaps even the intense gravity of what-will-come.