The door swung open, revealing two empty seats in front of a desk and an office chair behind it. The walls were tan, and the floor had a blue carpet placed to cover most the tiles.

Just like every other time Jase and I had been here, we moved the chairs as far away from each other as possible, then sat down.

"So," Mr. East spoke, "I presume there is an interesting story behind this?"

"About that," I said, looking at my feet. The wind seemed to be picking up outside, it sounded like it was literally growling.

"Jase started it." Yup. Me, The Most Childish, Yet Angsty Teen Alive: an autobiography.

Mr. East looked at Jase expectantly, but the kid was frozen in his seat. His eyes were wide with horror, and he looked shook.

"Mr. Lee?" The principal raised an eyebrow.

"W-what the h-hell is t-that?" Jase raised a shaky finger, pointing out the window.

Mr. East turned to face the window. "What the hell is that?!" He ran and dived behind his desk. He started smashing buttons.

"Why the hell is it that?" I groaned. Appearently the wind wasn't what was snarling. A hellhound was the one doing that.

This one wasn't as dark of a black as most of them, and it was a little smaller than Mrs. O'Leary. Nothing I couldn't take.

"Can I be excused?" I jumped up and shouted. My legs started to carry me towards the door.

"Nico di Angelo that is an army of prison escapees out there!" Mr. East shouted. Jase gave him a questioning look. The lockdown bell rang, and Mr. East grabbed the intercom mic.

"Thanks!" I ran outside and darted towards the school entrance.

"Nico!" Will shouted, suddenly at my side. "Did you see it?" I stopped for a minute to catch a breath.

"Lets get it!" I burst through the front door, coming face to face with the beast of hell. A bit of drool was slowly leaking out of its mouth. I prayed to every god I could imagine that it wouldn't fall and land on me.

I grabbed an oddly formed stick. As soon as I touched it, it became a little out of focus, then appeared again as a Stygian iron sword. Mist was something to be very thankful for.

Will had already grabbed his handy dandy bow and arrow set and was firing at the beast from a distance. Me being the gods damned idiot I was, charged it head on. I held my sword above my head, hoping I could at least strike it.

My sword came down, landing right in the monster's rib cage.

"If only you would hit on me like that!" Will shouted. I ignored him and kept trying to get the hellhound again. One lucky strike. That's all I'd been able to get before huge claws scratched me across the chest.

Only a few months ago, Will had made me stay at the Camp Half-Blood infirmary for three days because of hellhound marks. Guess this would be the same.

Maybe worst, because the last thing I remembered was a searing pain shooting through my chest. And I'm not a Christian, but I swear I was seeing Jesus.

Or maybe it was Zeus and the gang messing with me, I don't know.