Hi, I have at least 1 OC in a lot of my fave series so I decided to use my PJO one since the story that I'm already writing wouldn't really work for this. I used the prompt 'Funny how the second you take a break, the world falls apart.' I hope you enjoy! -------------------------------------------------------------------------- My legs ache. My arms ache. My entire body aches, begging for rest - which I barely ever get. My feet are sore and my hands are probably covered in blisters, but I keep running, running to the top of this dang hill. Something cuts into my leg and I stumble, wildly swinging my sword behind me. I grit my teeth as pain sears up my leg every time weight is put on it. I run like my life depends on it because, well, it is. One of them lands in front of me - her hands are giant claws, leathery wings sprout from her back, her teeth are fangs, her eyes murderous. They’ve penned me between them, there’s nowhere to escape. I don’t know why I thought I could, we’re in the middle of nowhere. So there’s only one other option. I tighten my grip on my sword and bring my shield close to me before charging forward. Alecto just smiles, ready for me. Or she would be if I wasn’t going for her wings. I just barely dodge her arms as I jump to the side and bring my sword down on the base of her wings. Her eyes bore into mine, her face shocked and absolutely furious - right before she fades into dust. I look down to the two wings still on the ground before I’m running again, past a very large tree, expecting to be cut into at any moment. But the blow never comes. I glance behind me and immediately stop. She’s not there. Tisiphone isn’t chasing me to get revenge. Just the wings lay there, a few yards away from me. I press a button and my shield is a bracelet again. With one more 360 sweep, I except that I’m safe for the time being. I jump straight up - and accidentally drop my sword - on myself. Funny how the second you take a break, the world falls apart. Maybe not the world, but your world. That’s how it feels as my own sword makes a clean little cut, right across my stomach. I hit the ground on my back, hard, and as I lose consciousness, my only thought is, So this is how I die, not by a monster or a thug, but my own sword and my own hand. “Oh my gods.” I can barely latch onto the voice before everything is black.
Rick Riordan for inspiration.
