Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hey y’all, please enjoy!! First chapter is in two chapters. Next one is Sam’s profile.

Chapter Text

Name: Samantha Boulegurd
Age: 14
Parents: Mason Boulegard and Nemesis
Backstory:
When Sam was eleven months old, a monster attacked her and her father. Her father gave his life to protect her, but the harm had been done. The hellhound had somehow managed to land a single claw on Sam. Her left eye was forever scarred. From there she bounced from foster home to foster home, school to school. When she was 12 she met a kid named Leo Valdez. He was a few years above her with a huge sense of humor. They were only together for a couple of weeks though. Leo set something on fire and got moved. Sam never forgot him. When Sam gets to camp and hears what happened when she was young, she swears to seek revenge.

Chapter Text

I wake up to the annoying pawing of Phoenix, the Hernandez’s annoying cat. I groan and shove her off of me. As Phoenix runs away, hissing, I hear someone clear their voice at the door. 

“Samantha.” Mrs Hernandez says sternly. 

“Yes mother?” I ask, in an annoyed but sweet tone as she has forcefully taught me to use. 

“Your friend from school is here. You know, the one with the crutches?” She says, spatting out the word friend. 

This wakes me up “You mean Grover?” I ask as I start to get ready. 

“Yes. He is asking for you. Says at there is some type of school project that you need to do. Whatever it is, make him go away. We do not need another creature ruining our reputation.”

I sigh and nod. Mr Hernandez was the Priest at the nearby Catholic Church. They only took me in for looks, but hate me with every inch of their living body. 

I walk downstairs and open the door to find Grover there, shaking and anxious looking. I look to make sure the Hernandez’s are not around before I say in a hushed whisper “What’s wrong? There is no school project. Do you need food again?”

He shakes his head. “Sam, come with me. You have to trust me.” The look in his eyes is all it takes to convince me. I quietly shut the door and follow him out, unaware to what is soon to happen.  

He leads me to two bicycles leaning against the fence. They look new, which is the forst thing that caught my eye. “Grover… where did you get the money to afford this?” I ask in awe as I run my hand down the side of the the smaller one. “And how will you ride it with your legs?” I ask. He stutters before he responds.

“Well uh… you see…” I cut him off.

“Have the doctors finally found a cure?!” I ask excitedly.

He looks at me awkwardly “Not exactly. I don’t have much time, so you will not get much of an explanation until we get to camp.”

“Camp?” I ask confused.

Chapter Text

“I don’t have time to explain. Just get on the bike and follow me.” He said urgently, already clasping his helmet.
“Grover? What’s going on?” I ask, but comply and strap the helmet on. Grover ignored my question and continued mounting his bike. The metal squeaks loudly as Grover sits awkwardly. I mount my bike and look up at him. Right as he opens his mouth to speak, my phone rings.
As soon as I hit the answer button, Grover’s voice fills the alleyway. “Sam, where are you? I just called your parents and they said I had just picked you up from your house?”
“What do you mean? You are right here.” I say, confusion evident in my voice. The line goes silent for a second, then two, before Grover’s voice once again fills the alleyway, which now seems darker. Colder even. “Sam, I am on the subway headed to Molten Avenue now. That is not me.” He paused for the second, letting my brain process the information. I look behind me at this supposed “Fake Grover”. According to the phone call, Grover was headed to the Subway exit two blocks down. The thing behind me had this odd smile covering half his face. His teeth were unnaturally sharp, looking more like fangs every second.
“Grover… What should I do?” I ask, my voice shaking. His response was almost immediate.
“Run.” He said seriously.
I don’t hesitate, dropping my bike and sprinting in the opposite direction of my house while patting down my pockets. I am about to give up and hope that my speed is enough when I think of one thing. I lean down and grab my father’s pocket knife out of my boot. It holds one of the only memories I have of him. I hold it for a second, thinking of his face, or at least the fragments left in my memory. I extend the blade. It was the color of rust, but still sharp as steel. It has never hurt anyone else, but I send a silent prayer to any god who is out there for it to work. With it in my hand, I look back up. I see the sidewalk up ahead, meaning I am about a quarter of a mile away from Molten Avenue. I weave in between people, accidentally tripping over someone’s tiny puppy. I start rolling, about to go over the curb when someone catches me. I look up to see Grover.
I jump up, knife in hand “Stay away!” I shout. A family of four look over, and I can faintly hear the little girl say “Mommy, why is there a goat over there?”
The Mom quickly shushes her and mouths a small sorry our way before pulling her away. I look back up at Grover, who is quickly dusting himself off and stood up. “Sam, chill. It’s just me.”
“Grove?” I ask, purposely using a fake nickname to check to make sure it was really him.
He looks puzzled. I smile and run over to hug him “It is really you!” I exclaim. “What is chasing me? Where are we going to go? What is going on?” I ask, all of my questions tumbling out at once.
“I wish I could tell you, but there is no time.
I take a deep breath, steadying my now racing heartbeat. “Ok. I trust you. What do we do now?”
He looks around, then points at a stairwell up to the rooftop of a nearby apartment building. I see what he is looking at and frown. “Grover, no. What about my eye? I could fall off and then thai would all be for nothing.”
“You should be fine. Trust me.” He says, holding out his hand. I look down at the Fake Grover, who is now below us looking through the crowd. I step forward on shaken legs. I accidentally step on a loose rock, sending it tumbling down into the street. Fake Grover looks up, a wicked smile on his face. He starts to shift into something like a monster as soon as we lock eyes. His arms elongated into wings, crooked with sharp, metallic feathers. His feet merged into talons, covered with coppery scales. His face changed shape, changing into what looked like- “Os that a cranky grandma bird?” I ask, cocking my head to get a better view.
“No. That-“ Grover’s voice cracked for a split second. He swallowed tten started again. “That is a Harpy.”