<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/e/eb/Marcus_Aiden.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Marcus Patton (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=207204.msg10172885#msg10172885)<br/><strong>Cabin:</strong>Unclaimed<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Some backwater town along the south (few days earlier), ending at the front of Camp Halfblood<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>September 19th, ending September 21st - 7:55 am<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Justine<br/><strong>Notes:</strong>Bloody, exhausted, hungry, bruised and really pissed off!<br/><br/><em>September 19th</em><br/><br/>Sleep was becoming harder and harder, ever since the dreams began. Dreams that made no sense, sometimes a boar, sometimes a traveling road. Marcus didn't know what to make of it all. Dreams that turned to nightmares. Flashes of his only friend, his mentor, the nearest thing to a father dying in his arms. Working was impossible, for the last year the attacks have been so persistent he was constantly on the move. Police were after him also, knocking over a gas station for gas and a bite to keep going was still against the law.<br/><br/>He ran until he could not go any longer, resting in a motel to keep going! But Where?! The visions told him little with each night. The following morning he was wakened by a knocking at the door. Marcus rolled over, checking the time. He had slept like a dead man, no dreams no visions. The groggy demigod scanned the room and began to raid the overpriced mini bar, tossing all he could carry into his bag. Whoever owned the room might have reported him for squatting, as he looked through the peep hole he saw two little old ladies, one holding the ugliest dog he had ever seen!<br/><br/>Opening the door halfway, he barely missed the spear looking to skewer him. "We are here to spread the gospel of the good lord." The old hags greeted him, Marcus managed to draw his sword and deflect their attacks enough to get out. It must have been a sight, a young man fighting off two old ladies in the motel parking lot, trashing every parked car! Marcus could not fight, not when he was outnumbered, less when the dog charged and became something he had never seen before!<br/><br/>Marcus was unsure what the old hags were, but one of their heads rolled off its shoulders with a direct swing. Buying enough time to get away, he rode out of the south and swore to himself he would never return to Texas ever again!<br/><br/><em>September 21st </em><br/><br/>He had only slept a few hours since that run in at the motel, the visions sometimes came to him as he rode. Nothing had stalked him in that time, but the moment he stopped he swore he saw something in his rear view mirror. Marcus was being paranoid, he had killed the second lady and its dog in a rest stop a few hours back. Every muscle in his body ached, his head felt light. His tattered shirt was soaked through with blood, his mostly. The closer he got, the more vivid the visions became. He was unsure where he was going, but his body simply moved him. Once he was in the forest he took a breath of relief until he saw how low he was on fuel.<br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20101202202940/godofwar/images/a/a3/Chim%C3%A8re_GOW_III.jpg)</div><br/>"Just a little more..." He mumbled, something up ahead came into view. The gates, he recognized the gates! The camp! That was the place, his death would not be in vain. With a surge of adrenaline he shifted into higher gear to close the gap. So close, he had not even noticed the creature coming from his side. Swatting him away from his goal with a large claw.<br/><br/>The bike, the only thing he had left of him was almost torn to pieces, sparing him from a similar fate as he skidded across the street into the local fauna. Between him and the gates stood the ugliest fucking dog hybrid thing he had ever seen. Marcus stumbled to his feet, limply slightly off a sprained ankle and a serious case of road rash up his side. A spear was summoned, used to steady his steps, his sword in the other dragging along the road as if it was to heavy to even lift. "Fucking baptists..." He growled as the creature prepared to pounce, attempting to stop him from reaching the one place his friend and father figured wanted to take him too over three years earlier.