11 months ago:
This is a fanfic on Percy Jackson where chaos returns blah blah blah read the description.
Chaos is returning. History is rewriting itself in a seemingly random pattern. The forge of creation is coming, and it will envelop all unlucky enough to ever taste the sweet scent of life.
And inside this cosmic void, a new god awaits. A god unlike any other, blessed with the power to manipulate matter and energy, it is the single most powerful being ever to have lived.
And it wants revenge, for it has been wronged.
It would appear that history is not what it seems. The key to the worlds salvation has been lost along with the children of chaos - Nyx, Erebus, Gaia, Tartarus and Eros. They all hide a dark past, a past so dark and so long forgotten that it can only be found in the glorious days of Ancient Greece.
Why, I ask you, has the unknown god chosen to strike now? And what link do The Children of Chaos have with this unknown god? And most importantly, how can it be stopped?
OK, imma gonna level with you, I am bored, it's late at night, I've got nothing to do, and I thought to myself 'hey! instead of doing my English homework, I'm gonna write a fan fic and hope I can keep my promise to write every week, even though its shit and no ones gonna like it, i want to read the comments!'
anyway, here's the prologue and a taste of wat its gonna be like (i will of coarse edit this when I include it l8er, I just cannot be bothered rite now)
I forged ahead, through the tsunami of civilians flocking the streets of London. Pushing, shuffling and the occasional punch, I knew I wouldn’t get there in time. The tide was agents me (by tide I mean people).
I scanned the crowd, looking for any hole, a gap to fill, but was welcomed with nothing but plain old people, focused on arriving to there destina- Wait a minute.
That bloke, I’ve seen him before!
He wore a grey jacket over a black vest, and with the baggy jeans and hood pulled low, he looked exactly like your typical teen wanna-be. The only thing that stood out really was the logo on his vest, half concealed by his (stolen, I suspect) jacket.
A red emblem with the picture of a swirling spiral, and if I looked closely enough, I could’ve sworn I saw it move- The crest of the unknown god.
Fu**ing hell, he disappeared. Lost in the never-ending hailstorm that is the crowd.
I continued to boldly march ahead, shoving at all who stood in my path, desperate to reach the London eye and, yet again, save all your sorry little arses from complete annihilation for the ninth time (lets not get into details)
I reached the end of Bakers street (don’t ask me if it’s a real street or not… I can’t really tell anymore) when some prick shouldered me with full force, knocking me into the swarm of people behind.
Fu**, I’m running out of time here!
“Hey, kid! Watch where your going!” I growled, wincing at the pain in my arm.
I looked behind me, just in time to see that guy with the grey jacket pick his way expertly through the crowd.
I clutched at my shoulder, cursing under my breath and pulled back the somehow ripped fabric of my T-shirt to reveal a deep gash, gone nub by the poison that now flew through my blood stream.
As soon as I realised what happened, my vision went hazy.
Black blots appeared in my train of sight, and as I tried to swat them away, a trickle of red blood ran down the side of my cheek. Then another, and soon my ears were roaring with red hot blood, streaming down the side of my face like red tears.
I hit the ground hard, completely unaware of my surroundings as time dragged by, as slow as a disabled snail pushing agents a strong gust of wind.
I shivered, my body jerking upwards, as I fell victim to a series of painful spasms.
Inhaling deeply, knowing that nothing would reach my lungs in time, made me wonder; did I really deserve to die in a street full of people, who could only watch and scream as I buckled around In pain, squirming at the very sight of death, and I ask you, what did I do to deserve this?
TWO WEEKS AGO