text: Annabeth stood her ground. The men had fallen, the weak, young and cowardly had fled. The sick and old had been sacrificed in an attempt to save everyone else. Yet they still came. An army of darkness and death. A plague upon mankind. Yet, the last to stand against it was a woman. She held her sword tightly. It was an old weapon. Passed down from father to son for generations, a line unbroken until now. The blade was short for a sword, yet too long for a dagger. Too thick and heavy for swinging quickly, yet too light to bash through armour. An odd weapon from a time long ago. Her shield was big, unlike the sword. Yet it was light. Made of a mix of wood and metal, it stood tall against any attack. It protected the body from spear, arrow, or sword. Together, the pair made a nearly unstoppable pair. Hiding behind the shield and stabbing out with the sword. But both paled in compared to the armour. Plates of metal overlapping leather. Cuts covered this armour from head to toe, yet the plates remained unbroken. When surrounded, the shield becomes a weakness, forcing you to protect one side and leave another vulnerable. The sword can only kill one enemy at a time. But the armour. It can stop a thousand blows from a thousand men. That is what Annabeth needed right now. The army approached the young woman. A great cloud of dust followed in its wake. Forests, plants, and animals all withered to nothing before it's all-consuming mass. Then, it reached Annabeth. The very ground that she stood on begun to crack and turn strange shades. The air turned stale and hard to breathe. Yet, she did not turn. She did not run. She had a duty. A little sister and brother to protect. Her grandfather, who gave his sanity to fighting this horde. Her mother, who had to abandon her oldest daughter to save the rest. The orphans, the lost and damned, those who tried their hardest and failed. The people who never had any hope from the start, and those who had lost hope when the Hero died. They all counted on her, even if they didn't know it. "S-stop!" She commanded. Her voice stuttered and almost gave up entirely. But she still stood strong. Strangely enough, the horde before her did that very thing. "What is this?" A voice like gravel grating on metal boomed from the horde. It was roughly a hundred meters away from the girl, yet the monster that stood at the front could easily be seen. Three times the size of a regular man, it hefted an axe that could cleave a normal man in two. "A child dare stand in my way?" "I-I am n-not a ch-ch-child!" Annabeth yelled back to the monster. She could feel the tears prick at her bright green eyes. She shook her head, trying to force back the tears, only for her golden blond hair to fall in fount of her eyes. "Oh?" The monster boomed. "Then what are you, child?" The monster sounded more intrigued than angry, as if Annabeth wasn't even worthy of its rage. Considering the monster was well known as the Sin of Wrath, that was a feat in of itself. Annabeth took a moment to steady herself. She remembered her father's teachings. That rushing in would only lead to a quick death. To take your time, to plan and outsmart your opponent. The demon was known as the Sin of Wrath, but rage made you stupid. It preferred direct assaults and was easily caught by surprise attacks. "I challenge you to a duel!" Annabeth screamed out to the Demon. This time, her voice held strong, though force of will rather than courage. However, she soon faltered as the entire army of monsters laughed at her. All but three. The Sin of Pride, The Sin of Envy, and the Sin of Wrath. "Silence!" Pride called, it's voice smooth like silk. "A challenge has been issued, and you will respect it!" Pride was unique for a Demon, always following through with it's word to the letter instead of twisting and turning the contracts to its favor. But that did not make it weak, instead, it twisted the very person into agreeing to bad deals. "Ah, Wrath, ah, your so lucky! Ah, I wish, ah, that I could, ah, kill her!" A nasally voice called out. Envy, a small spellcaster demon that always wanted what it couldn't have. Greed for other's power meant it learned how to steal knowledge and strength from those it killed. "I accept your challenge, child." Wrath called out, stepping forwards from the army. The ground beneath its very feet was pressed down and left indents into the earth where it walked. As the monster crossed the hundred meters, it only grew in size. It eventually stopped ten meters from Annabeth. "This is your last chance to flee, child." Wrath said it's voice so loud that it hurt Annabeth's very brain. It's yellow eyes stared down at the girl, into her very soul. But she stood strong against it, for if she didn't, who would? Annabeth couldn't respond for fear of her voice breaking and giving way to tears. She knew she was going to die here, but every second she brought was another person getting away from the horde. Instead, she raised her shield just below her eyes and prepared to stab with the sword that was not quite a sword. Wrath meanwhile didn't wait for any more of a reply. It shot forwards with speed faster than such a large body should be able to move at. The axe came from the left side of Annabeth, so she moved her shield slightly so that it wasn't hit directly. The axe slid off the wood like it was two bits of metal sliding off each other. The Demon of Wrath lost it's footing for a second, and Annabeth took the opportunity. She trusted out with her sword that was not a sword and struck the monster in the neck. Wrath turned it's head to the girl, the sword still stuck in its neck. It looked down at the sword that was not a sword, shock and surprise clear on its face. "Fuck." It said, blood coming up with the words as it dropped its axe. The Demon of Wrath had been slain with a single thrust from a young girl. The Demon of Wrath fell to the ground, the sword that was not a sword slid free with no resistance. The universe stood still. The monsters no longer made noise. Even Annabeth's breathing seemed to stand still. Blood covered the girl from head to toe. Arteries spewed a lot more blood than she had thought. But not even the hardest of warriors can survive having their neck cut open. "Envy!" Annabeth called. Her voice cracked while saying the name, but the army of monsters dared not mock this girl anymore. "Ah, perhaps another time, ah ah." Envy said, backing away like the coward it was. But Pride stood behind the Imp. "Are you going to surrender to a small human child?" Pride asked venom and steel in its voice. That voice promised a slow and painful death. "Ah, yes, ah, your right, ah. Ah, it's only, ah, a girl, ah. Ah, My magic, Ah, should easily deal, ah, with her, ah." The Imp strode forwards. Unlike Wrath, it's steps were small, and it took the better part of ten minutes to cross the distance. The entire time it scratched at itself with its claws, ripping small scales off its body only to show more underneath. Instead of being clean and fresh, the scales were worn and ash covered. They were as sickly looking as those on top. Annabeth readied her sword and shield. her father's words came back to her. 'Should you ever fight a spell-caster, close the distance.' With those words on her mind, she sprinted forwards, throwing any pretense of defense behind. This seemed to take the Imp by surprise, but it was too quick. The Demon raised its hands and shot out blue fire at the girl. Raising her shield, Annabeth ran through the flames. The metal of her armour heated up, but the leather underneath stopped it from burning her skin. The wood of the shield refused to burn, however, having long been treated against fire. Unfortunately, she could not see. Instead of stopping in front of the Imp, Annabeth ran into it. Both the young woman and the monster were thrown to the side. Sword lost, having been thrown by accident. Training could not excuse a lack of experience, and losing your weapon was a great way to learn to keep a strong grip. The Imp was up first and blasting more fire at Annabeth. The girl had to hunker down under the shield, trusting in the ancients who constructed it. She could hear the cackle of laughter coming from the Imp. "Ah, die! Hehehehehehehe! Ah, Die! Ah, let me, ah, consume your soul, ah! Hahahahahahhahaha!" Envy cackled, blue fire shooting form it's hands. Annabeth slowly stood up, keeping the shield between her and the Demon. She felt her armour getting hotter and hotter. The leather had begun to sizzle and small bits of metal were starting to touch her skin, burning it away. Yet she still pressed forwards, walking towards the Imp as it backed away. Soon, the gap was closed. Annabeth was at the pinnacle of the fire. She thrust out with the shield, knocking the hands of the Imp away. This action interrupted the spell. It was only for a second, but that was enough. While she had a chance, the young woman swung the shield with all her might, knocking the Imp to the ground. Grabbing the sides of the shield, she brought it down on the Imp's neck. Putting all her weight on the shield, she pushed down, choking the monster. It was a slow death, with lots of spluttering and cursing from both sides. Spells began to fly in every direction in a mad attempt from the Imp to kill the girl. But, after what felt like an eternity, the Imp laid still, unmoving. Annabeth looked around for her sword. She found it lying in a patch of burnt grass. Limping over to it, she picked it back up and turned to the demon army. Burns covered her entire body and she was tired, but she still stood tall. "Pride!" She called out. She didn't yell this time. She didn't need to yell anymore. She wasn't afraid now. The army was still silent. The final general had been called out to fight, and everyone knew he would. Pride didn't say a word, nearly strode forwards, unsheathing a sword made of bone. Both took a fighting stance. Pride's was better, it was clear. But Annabeth had a shield. Helmet of a bird and a helmet of metal faced each other. Green eyes to pink. Pride made the first move. A thrust aimed at the neck of Annabeth. She rose her shield slightly, knocking the sword to the side and striking out with her own, like a snake waiting in a bush for its prey. Pride swatted away the sword that was not a sword like a horse swatted a fly. The sheer strength behind the blow almost knocked the sword out of her hand, but she had learned quickly to never let go of your sword. Pride stuck again before Annabeth could fully recover. The sword made of bone went for her eyes, but the girl nearly turned her head and let the blade slide down the side of her helmet. The sound of metal on bone rang through her ears, rattling her to the bone. While she had a chance, the girl stuck out with another thrust. This one was poorly aimed and was easily dodged by Pride. The sword came quicker this time. It stuck her outstretched arm. A loud crunch could be heard as the sword met metal. But it wasn't the crunch of her arm, it was the sword shattering. "You have very strong armour. I'll have to take it off your corpse." Pride said as he returned the hilt to its sheath. When Pride pulled the handle back out, a new sword was there, the same as before. "You have my respect, but you must die now." Just as Annabeth was about to respond, Pride disappeared. She heard a crunch and felt pain come from her back, then from her side, then another on her arm, one on her head, another on her arm, right at the elbow. Pride was moving so quickly and striking so hard that she couldn't even tell where he was. But her armour held up, breaking his sword each time instead of breaking itself. Every blow was a bruise, and in some cases, her own bone cracking. In a desperate attempt to survive, she put her shield in front of her, protecting her face from the sword. Pride did not slow down, however. Instead, it added in kicks to throw her to the ground. It added in consecutive blows to joints and her head. It beat and beat and beat her down until she was nothing but a crying mess on the ground. "I am truly sorry it came to this. If it is any consolation, you put up a better fight than the Hero. He ran away the moment I chopped off his arm. Truly, a coward of the greatest caliber." Pride taunted, a smile playing on it's lips. Annabeth slowly stood up, and Pride let her. "Don't," she said, weakly and softly. "What was that? I couldn't hear you." Pride taunted. "Don't you dare talk about my father that way!" Annabeth yelled as she stuck out with her sword. The strike was wild, a slash instead of a thrust. Her shield was out of place because of it, and Pride took advantage. The sword took her in the eye before she could even finish the swing. "Like father like daughter. To think, the Hero killed four of us, then his daughter killed two more. Yet neither could kill me. I guess that's why I'm in charge." Annabeth fell to the ground, like a puppet with its strings cut. Life had left the girl, now forever to stare in the distance with only one eye. "Demons! Onwards! We have Humanity on the ropes!" Good ending up in a few days.