"Hey, wake up."
I jolted upright, heart pounding. It had only been a couple of days—three, I think (correction: it was four)—stranded in this desert, but every night I was dragged into these nightmarish visions toward some hellish place in search of a diamond. I'm going crazy, aren't I?
Some of you might be wondering, "Why on earth did you go through the desert?"
Well, quick recap: We followed the moon, just like the prophecy said—because unlike some of you, we actually want to get this over with—and somehow made it here in less than two years (about... a few weeks. We wanted to get far, far, away from those horrible beasts). Yay, I guess. Plus, the prophecy did mention we'd have to cross a desert, so... yeah.
Thank the gods, (still not sure whether or not I should talk about the big G or the Greek babies) we'd managed to raid that village quietly; otherwise, the hunger and thirst would have driven me completely nuts. Fun fact: Helen once told me humans could survive without food for a while but would be done for in just a few days (or was it hours?) without water. Weird, right? Especially considering we're basically 70% (correction again: 60%) water.
"We need to move," Alex said, looming over me with his sword drawn. Prince Charming, minus the prince part—and maybe the charming, because he's hot in my opinion, but whatever. His mouth was dirtier than a sailor's. "Get up, or do you need me to coddle you, princess?"
"I'm neither a baby nor in need of your coddling," I shot back, standing up and dusting off my clothes. Inside, I was genuinely cackling, but I kept my face straight. "What's the rush?"
"First off, that Hades kid—what's her name, Nora? No, Nebby—just got word that her minions were wiped out." His tone was serious, but I barely registered the name mix-up. Whatever. "Which means they're closing in on us, and unless you signed a death certificate, we need to go. For another, we still need to find Em, so hurry up."
"Well, that's just so bold of you to assume that I need a death certificate to kill myself, Al." I rolled my eyes, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "I was hoping for some good news, but sure, let's go. Lead the way, dude."
"Let's just stick to the prophecy. I'll find a spot to do a quick grab-and-run. Heard there's some big ass markets nearby." The language was a bit much, Alexander Carter, but I wasn't going to argue. That had never worked out for me once.
"Fine by me. The moon's rising in the east, in case you didn't notice. I just need a minute to get ready, alright?" I said in a monotone, flexing my neck.
"Yeah, sure. We'll head out at night. I'll wake these dumbasses up first, starting from… oh look, Jasper and his new 'girlfriend'."
Not thrilled with him calling my friends 'dumbasses', but whatever. If he didn't like them, he could always leave.
***
I can't stop. Every time I feel the pain, it's like a jolt of energy, almost like a weird kind of relief. It's how I keep myself from doing something I'd regret—like brutally murdering my dad. I'm just way too young to get a criminal record, let alone from KILLING SOMEONE. He's just a drunk, a [censored]boy, and a millionaire who can't even grow his bank account from six zeros to nine. It wouldn't be so hard if he didn't waste his life sleeping around with women every single day. At least get a room, dude. Quit doing it in my room while I'm at school.
This may come off as a little random, maybe it's the fact that I somehow whipped this outta nowhere, but sometimes, I wish for my memories of those… people could just... vanish. Haha. But honestly, if there was a device that could erase every time Nan tried to crack my skull, I'd empty all my savings in a heartbeat. Life's rough, sure, but dying seems even tougher. Maybe being an asshole and a half-human, half-god mix messes with my life force—makes it weaker, or who knows, maybe stronger. Both would be bad.
But seriously, can people get addicted to pain?
I felt the rough ground pressing against my skin, like tiny ants crawling beneath. I reached for a sharp pebble nearby and picked it up, letting it twirl in my hand. As it caught the 'light of moon', it seemed to trip over the wrinkles of my skin and fall from my grasp.
I… want…
I brought the sharp edge closer and, wincing as I forced it into my arm. The warmth of the blood felt intense against the chill of the wind, and it felt… good. It felt–
"What are you doing?"
I didn't reply, mostly because I wasn't sure who was talking—ugh, fine. It was Alex, and I'll be honest: I was kinda… in the middle of cleaning up a crime scene, and if y'know, y'know.
My heart pounded in my ears as I frantically tried to cover up the gash on my forearm. I hadn't hit a vein (Helen said blood from the veins tended to have a deeper red. Thanks, Helen, for keeping me sane with your facts)—thankfully—but it was bleeding way more than usual. Like, a lot.
This had always been a twisted game—a dangerous child's play—which is why I usually kept it to my thighs. Easier to hide and, well, not fatal… at least, not yet.
So, all my efforts to clean up this mess? Yeah, they're about to go bam, bam, BAM! Down the drain. And guess what? I have no idea what to do next, so naturally, I'm about to spill all my secrets… to a complete stranger. Hold on—wrong script! CUT!
Yeah, I'm trying to keep it together, but my nerves are shot. You might be asking, "Why joke at a time like this?" Well, it's my way of coping if you didn't notice!
"What the hell?" Alex's voice echoed in my head, and I glared at him through gritted teeth while trying to stem the bleeding with my finger.
"What do you expect, dude? Oh look, I'm hiking—OF COURSE I'M NOT!"
"Stop panicking, just stop, LOOK AT ME!" He grabbed my face, forcing me to face him. With a firm grip, he unscrewed a cork and tipped a bottle towards my mouth.
At first, the taste was unfamiliar—cold and distant, like ice water. But as I swirled it around with my tongue, it transformed into something else entirely. It was like the 4th of July last year, when Auntie grilled up that mouth watering brisket I couldn't stop raving about for a week or so. The ambrosia tasted exactly like that: buttery, with a sweet and spicy sauce that lingered just like the real thing.
Guess what? I totally gave in. Who wouldn't, right? Honestly, I couldn't resist. I couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed when he stopped, leaving me alone. Again.
"What," he paused, taking a deep breath, "in Tartarus was that?"
"No clue." I shook my head, pretending to be surprised by what I was literally doing by myself. I was shooketh... more by the fact that he asked, even though he could clearly see what I was doing. "I don't know why my arm is soaked in blood, and this murder weapon just happened to end up in my hands."
His pale eyes narrowed. "Suicidal [censored]."
I smirked, tilting my head slightly. "Cocky bastard."
I glanced down, expecting to see a nasty wound, but instead, there was nothing—no pain, no raw flesh, not even a scar. Gotta hand it to ambrosia; it worked like magic. Literally. My gaze shifted to Alex's necklace, a delicate gold chain draped across his collarbones, glinting against his skin. His collarbones were sharp, almost too sharp, and there, layered on top, was another necklace—delicately carved beads strung through a black thread.
Why am I like this?
There he was, looking more smug than ever when he caught me staring. It reminded me of the first time I met Christal, though her reaction couldn't have been more different. You remember that, right, Ms. Editor? Of course you do—you're the one who noted down every single detail.
I also somehow remember the first time I felt that raw, searing pain—right at this very spot. Which was funny considering that I was only 4 when it happened…
"Nan! Nan! It hurts!" My vision blurred with tears as I held up my bloodied arm. "Papa!"
"Just SHUT UP!" She spat, and slapped me hard across the face. "I wish you'd just kill yourself, you little [censored]!"
"B-But—"
I felt my chest tighten, and my breath caught in my throat. My vision wavered as my head seemed to spin slightly.
"You're… crying." Alex's voice broke through, making me realize the tears that were already pricking at the corners of my eyes. I quickly turned away, trying to brush them off.
"Holy [censored], I am…" I muttered, struggling to hold back a sob. I cleared my throat and forced a shaky laugh. "Haha… Help me."
"Hm…" He hummed thoughtfully, idly tapping his heel against the ground. "What's… your favorite color?"
"That's… random."
"Just answer."
"Okay…" I hesitated, glancing up at the twinkling stars, then back at him. "Well, I don't… really know. It's been quite a while since I thought about that." I looked into his eyes, letting the color seep in my mind. "Your eyes. Reminds me of the ocean," I finally said. "I like this game."
"You do?" He asked, as if what I said wasn't what he would expect. "Damn." Ooh, he's smitten~I'm so good at wooing guys.
A small smile played at my lips as I quoted his words from before, "We'll head out tonight."
"The night's still young. I'll give you a minute or two to… get back on track." He pushed himself up, dusting off the sand from his torn jeans. And then, he was gone.
***
"Hero… HERO!" A voice echoed in panic. "We don't have much time."
I spun around, trying to find the source. But there was nothing—just an endless, empty void of… sky? I don't know either, so stop questioning me, people! No walls, no ceiling, no floor. It was like standing on nothing, which, when you think about it, is pretty freaky. How am I not falling through this?
When I found nothing, I did the only logical thing—I started talking to the air. "Uh, what?"
Suddenly, a blinding light flared up, and out of it stepped a stunning young woman. Actually, "stunning" doesn't quite cover it. I'd go with "gorg"—gorgeous, gorgelicious, gorgastic, and even a bit gory, just because why not?
Dark hair tumbled over her shoulders in glossy waves, making her pale skin stand out even more. She might as well have had a highlighter factory on her face. It was like she was trying to outshine the sun, and honestly, she was doing a pretty good job of it. If you're sensitive to sudden bursts of light, beware: looking at this… god person was like staring into a supernova. My eyes might have actually started smoking.
"My brother is in danger. We don't have much time, hero," the woman urged. "We need your help. We need you."
"I figured," I replied. "You've been saying that same line for over a week now." Her voice sounded eerily familiar, like the one that drags me out of bed every morning. So, thanks for that, I guess. "But seriously, who are you?"
"I am Artemis, goddess of the hunt," She declared, stepping closer. I had to squint because, seriously, why did she have to glow like a human LED light bulb? I mean, you're a goddess—why the extra spice? "Please, hero. Someone waits for you, and what you seek—a person, a friend—will be revealed. Follow my light, and you shall find the—!"
***
I gasped for air as my eyes snapped open. Sweat clung to my forehead, and suddenly everything came rushing back—Artemis, her brother, that blinding light. Even after all that, I still couldn't figure out how I'd managed to fall asleep, which was odd since I usually need sleeping pills just to catch a wink. What did she want me to find? The truth? But what truth? And who's that 'friend' she was talking about anyways? Or was it fiend?
And here I am, questioning a goddess. Oh welp, I guess she can zap me off to the moon or wherever. Actually, scratch that—please don't zap me to the moon. I mean, you're the goddess of the moon and all. How about somewhere else, like… ooh, I know, Mars!
Anyways, I was sitting there, and—wait, where am I? I glanced down and realized I had my arms wrapped around… ALEX?! Hold on, when did I consent to this?!
"WHAT THE [censored] IS THIS?!" I blurted out, trying to hop off the vehicle, only to realize we were on a bike speeding along at breakneck pace. "WHAT THE [censored] ARE YOU DOING?!"
"Hm…" He casually swerved left, and I barely had time to brace myself as we sped up even more. I clung to his shirt like my life depended on it—because it probably did—scooting closer to avoid being flung onto the sandy pavement.
"You're welcome to jump off anytime," He called out nonchalantly and his accent only made it worse.
"HE DOESN'T MEAN THAT!" Helen's voice rang out from behind me, but I couldn't even turn to look at her because dust and sand were whipping into my face, clinging to my lashes and stinging my eyes. "IT'S NOT A THREAT!"
"Are we there yet?" Christal muttered, half-asleep as she rode with Helen. Her eyes were barely open, lashes glued together like she'd been superglued to a dream, but her mouth kept going, mumbling nonsense while her brain was clearly still in snooze mode. "Knock knock…?"
"Who's there?" Jasper chimed in out of nowhere, and I swear, they'd make an adorable couple if we didn't meet a fiery end first. The only thing I remember from that 60-second orientation film was the massive red warning: "PROTECT YOURSELVES OR DIE!"—which, by the way, is a terrible motto for a camp. Just saying.
"Orange," Christal yawned, her head nestled against Helen's back like she wasn't two seconds away from turning into roadkill. Because, obviously, now was the perfect time to start a knock-knock joke while we were careening toward certain death.
"Hey, Alex, since you're, you know, in charge of this whole mission, we're still following the moon, right?" I had to ask. If they'd decided on a new plan while I was zoning out, I'd have to drag them through the whole 'I had a dream' spiel, and trust me, nobody wants that.
"Uh… yeah. Why?" He arched a brow, giving me this look like I'd just asked if the sky was blue. "You haven't been asleep that long."
"How do you know how long I've been out for?" I fired back, flipping the script. For once, I was the one asking the questions. Goodie. But he didn't respond—didn't even try to, and then we both silently agreed it was probably best to leave it at that.
***
We didn't have to search long before stumbling upon a market that stuck out like a sore thumb. The whole place was draped in black fabric, with broken wooden columns scattered around that looked like they were on a permanent vacation from holding anything up. The sun was already peeking out from the arid dunes, signaling that morning had arrived. Everyone else had snuck off into the tents, scavenging for supplies—and looking for our missing girl, Em.
Jasper and Al were seriously bummed when they couldn't find her anywhere, but me? Uh… I'm still trying to figure out how I feel. I mean, it's not like I'm heartless or anything, but we weren't exactly besties, so I'm not about to start moping around like a lost puppy, y'know? Like, if it were Helen who got kidnapped, I'd be tearing the place apart without a second thought. Yeah, Helen, you'd better be grateful. Just kidding.
I slowly made my way to the largest, most colorful tent, right next to a stall, hoping to escape the sand stinging my eyes. The bright patterns on the tent stood out against the dull, sandy landscape and the black fabrics surrounding it. I brushed aside the sheer mesh curtains at the entrance and squinted as I spotted a glowing orb in front of me, casting a cool light over the simple tapestries hanging inside.
Weird. I thought this place was supposed to be abandoned. With everything around here looking so run-down, I thought everyone had cleared out—or worse, died. Ooh, maybe I could snag a few skulls for my room decor. They'd be perfect for keeping Dad's ladies from getting too… comfy.
"Hello~?" Just a heads-up, I was trying to lure in any lingering ghosts of dead merchants. Yes, I might be a bit of a ghost-hunting nerd, thanks to all those ghost simulation games and indie horror theories from Game Theorists.
Rattle rattle.
I turned around to see a man standing by the curtains. He was dressed in black from head to toe, but his hood was lowered, revealing a heavily misshapen face and a busy, tangled beard. Think of Hagrid from Harry Potter but make him look as though his parents had dropped a brick on his face and proceeded to fling him across the room as a child. Aphr–Mom–would not approve.
But something about him, I couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was, but he reminded me of—
"Psh," He scowled, shooting me a dirty look. Um, excuse you-–just because I look like I haven't had water in three days and might be aging like a raisin doesn't mean my makeup isn't still flawless, thank you very much. Anyways—wait, did his beard just catch on fire?
I stood there, silently roasting this peculiar-looking guy while also questioning whether I was actually seeing what I thought I was. He let out this low, crackling growl, "What do you want?"