#daughterxfwar

[melodiiesxfmadness]

[ lamia attacks // bronte writing piece. ]

— Paradise, Massachusetts.

Paradise is a small ̶(̶ ̶F̶I̶C̶T̶I̶O̶N̶A̶L̶ ̶!̶ ̶)̶ coastal town in Massachusetts about two hours from the big city – Boston – by train or car. Like most coastal towns, tourism happened to be their bread and butter. It was how they survived through the winter.

Bronte had been calling this coastal town home since after leaving camp half-blood. She had grown up in Quebec until she was eight years old, when she was openly attacked on her way to school by some creature. Which was normal — it tended to be a ` thing ` in their culture, demigods were hunted by the monsters in their world. Before passing out, Bronte saw a man with horns and hooves attack the creature — unaware that he was a satyr. Days later, she woke up in the infirmary – for the next eleven years of her life ? Her life was training, schooling and questing. Exactly how it had always been within the safety of the camp. Rumor was that there were famous demigods/demigoddess' in the world — like even the oval office famous at one point.

Most children of Ares were boys, there had only ever been one other girl – Clarissa La Rue. Bronte had no idea what had become of her, they were all half-siblings anyway and some of them didn't even get along. Given who their father / god patron happened to be … that wasn't really any surprise.

Small towns even in this day and age tended to be limited with what they did ( activities wise ). Once in a blue moon there was a drowning, even more rare there was a murder — mostly little crimes like stolen pets, toilet papering and egging houses. Taking the lone police cruiser on a joy ride. Stupid things that bored kids in a miniscule no mall and small cinema town did, despite the distance from the big city. Things she had never experienced but life was pretty much routine inside that little bubble of the camp. Most of the time she hung out at the little town library or that little coffee shop, sometimes at the docks just watching the boats as they moved along the water. It would have been utterly suspicious for a demigoddess to join the boston police academy and then come out to work here at the little sheriff's department. Equally suspicious if she joined any branch of the military, so here she was just assumed to be some little greek / french canadian heiress to an unknown fortune. Hiding away from the enemies of her family because why would anyone look here?

The truth was — she was stationed here by the department of defense. She protected this little coastal town at all costs from those monsters who could easily attack from anywhere — mostly from the water. Her world was concealed from mortals just like other preternatural creatures were. Anything meant to not exist was always hidden by some secret sub division of a government branch. Rumors were that the DOJ and DOW had some supernatural warriors — nephilim — she didn't wish to try and prove it. Digging into government secrets was a dicey business. She already had enemies, and didn't want to add two branches of the government to the list.

It was a little afternoon now when she came walking up the bridge that led towards her dutch colonial style home. There was a man in a dark long-sleeved shirt and matching pants, with sunglasses on and holding a large manilla envelope. This was how missions got delivered to her - no emails, no texts, no phone calls. Not even a fax – the signal was pretty bad out here anyway, at least for the cell phone. She had to go to the end of the bridge to get a decent signal, which was why she had a landline. Still though – this was the safer way, no way it could be intercepted by the wrong party. ‟ Ευχαριστώ. ( Thank you. )” Taking the envelope from the man, she unlocked the front door of her home and placed it on the little table in the foyer — retrieving the mail and morning newspaper from the floor.

— LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA. — 10:45 AM.

Traveling to California was only a poor decision if you somehow ended up in the bay area – that was where the roman camp was. Despite the fact that the gods were exactly the same in either culture — their offspring were rivals.

— Anyway.

The reason Bronte had traveled cross country was because children had started to go missing. Not randomly either, a Seraphim had reported seeing a LAMIA leave a home with two children in one hand. Fully grown just very nasty long fingers encompassing their necks, headless necks no less. Lapping at the blood as it walked down the front steps with the parents screaming and crying from inside the house. There had been similar sightings by parents of Greek households who had warned their children that if they didn't behave or mind their elders — Lamia would come for them. That was how trouble started — all they had to do was say that and out she would come, released from her prison to collect those children she'd been promised. The demigoddess knew that the fear was already at an all-time high within the community, there was no way it wasn't because in the file there had been mentions of talks amongst community elders to hide all the children in the basement of every church until the Lamia was killed. To her that was a terrible idea — that would make every child a target if the creature discovered them because they all got bored and chose to sneak out. She already knew how to kill it — a silver knife, blessed by a priest.

Far be it for a daughter of the Greek war god to not have many weapons, especially hand to hand ones / close quarter combat ones. Flying with one was prohibited so days earlier she had called the nearest Greek Orthodox church to make an appointment, in order to have the knife blessed once she had purchased it.

Exiting the airport with at least two other individuals now — both agents of the Department Of Defense — they walked in unison for the unmarked suburban and Bronte stopped. ‟ Κάτι δεν πάει καλά. Μπες στο όχημα. ( Something is wrong. Get in the vehicle. )” Further down the road leading up to the arrivals area, she could hear frantic screams and … … maniacal bleating. Goats. It was then one of the other agents handed her his 9 mm and an extra magazine, ‟ Meet me at the other end. ” The agents nodded before speeding off, looping around to drive back down on the other side of the median as Bronte took off running – jumping across the roofs of the parked vehicles in order to get to the humans fleeing for their lives. Hundreds of Girgentana goats with reds eyes and human like teeth were charging at anyone trying to run from them. She cursed under her breath and gave a sharp whistle — all of the goats looked at her as she jumped from the roof of a small compact car to a sports utility vehicle.

‟ In the name of the gods, Lamia — stop this madness. ” And as the goats began to charge towards her, she opened fire — aiming directly for their heads while whispering a Greek prayer under her breath. There were too many …. but the sound of screeching tires and rapid gun fire was drowning out the screams of the civilians — as the unmarked suburban came speeding up the sidewalk. Horn blasting to get anyone who was still on it INSIDE while the automatic weapon was being fired at the goats from the sun roof. The little white horned demons turned their attention from Bronte to the vehicle, and charged – those maniacal bleats filling the air were followed by the sound of screeching tires as the agent driving turned the wheel HARD in order to turn the vehicle into a donut slide as best as possible. Side swiping many of the little horned demons into the already parked vehicles, or sending them flying.

‟ By order of the Department Of Defense, this airport is on lockdown for the safety of these citizens. Do not let anyone leave or enter the building until agents make contact. ” With many of the goats down now, Bronte safely spoke to the guards outside the arrivals area and then climbed into the suburban. The agent that had been firing the automatic weapon out of the sunroof was back in his seat and offering her a box — inside were 48 silver knives for the priest to bless. Quietly, she closed the box and tried to not smile. ‟ Call it in and have the airport locked down until this can be dealt with … … and maybe see if some Children of Mars can come assist in guarding it. You'll find them in Oakland Hills, in the bay area. ” That was all she said while the vehicle sped down the highway, lights flashing quickly and siren blaring — speeding off to the church.

Lamia knew she was here … which meant more children were in danger.