"I want you to destroy the demigods and bring me their souls," commanded a bodiless voice to a man dressed in ragged clothes. The clothes looked like they were from the Victorian era. His hat was long gone. His black polished shoes were splattered with his own blood, they were barely recognizable after his tortures. After all his time in Hell, he was just skin and bones. The man was in chains, he dangled mere feet above a thousand spinning blades promising a painful death below. Every day he was dropped into the pit and ripped apart by the blades as the eternal punishment for the crimes he committed while he was alive.

"What's in it for me?" asked the man with a hoarse Geordie accent. After all those centuries of yelling and pleading for help his voice was painfully dry.

"You will become immortal," it paused giving the pathetic mortal time to contemplate it's generosity, "and you get to kill as many as you want along the way."

"Immortal?" the prisoner asked before grinning maniacally, "You got yourself a deal whatever you are."

Meanwhile, in the Underworld...

Hades was having dinner with his son wishing for winter to arrive, he rather missed his wife. Not to say that he did not enjoy the talking to Nico. He has missed talking to his children. In the past, Hades tried to avoid it as much as possible to avoid the inevitable heartbreak when they died and he had to oversee their reward or punishment.

"Can you pass me the salt, Nico," Hades asked enjoying the simple interactions with his son. He was still trying to stifle a laugh from the story Nico told of the pranks of Leo and the Stoll brother. Their exploits could only end in disaster, though a hilarious disaster in some cases as he just learned from Nico.

Nico stretched out his hand as he passed the salt to Hades. In that moment Hades felt odd, his eyes flashed, he felt cheated. In trying to sort out what's wrong he dropped the salt on the table. The grains of salt rained on the table. The temperature of the room seemed to drop a few degrees. Hades waved his hand to clear the salt off the table. It's bad luck to spill salt.

"Seems like there is trouble in Hell. Do you happen to know if Thanatos went out for his rounds yet?" Hades asked his son as he started to get out of his chair.

"He's always on his rounds," Nico looked at his dad, "Are you okay, you seem-"

"I am fine, I'll have to reschedule dinner. Though on the topic of Will, I approve," Hades declared, interrupting Nico. His speech was rushed, he tried to take care of the important matter and in result agitated his son.

Nico paled, "how did you know?" he stammered rubbing his neck. He was meaning to talk to his dad about that time in the conversation when he asked about his relationships. For some reason Will wanted to meet with his dad, the god of the dead, most did not make that request casually. Usually dinner with the god of the dead was unnerving with the souls swerling in this robes, and the gloomy atmosphere and fields of the dead. It was strange acting normal after all the years of the gods avoiding their children, all of a sudden those norms were flipped.

"After Gaea went back to sleep I had more time to myself," he recalls and then muttered to himself, "and Persephone may have told me to start being a real dad to you." Hades left out the part where he could not bear losing another child. Nico deserved a long and happy life not having to meet the judges of the Underworld to be judged so soon.

"Where are you going?" Nico asks confused by his sudden restlessness. The last time he saw him this restless was during the last crisis. He knew there were still trouble in the Greek world but everyone thought it was finally time for some peace, apparently not.

"I have to talk to my brother. Seems like the world just cannot stay quiet for long. I will see you later, son. It was nice to talk to you." Hades grabbed his tablet off the kitchen table and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

In the world of the living,

A figure of a woman can be seen stalking in the night. Her footsteps are quiet, her heart, on the other hand, was not. It hammers in her chest cavity as she tries to calm herself before she goes into shock. What are the chances, the wrong place, the wrong time to be taking a walk near the park. Why couldn't she just drink a glass of water like normal people? No point worrying now, there is little chance of going out of this one.

Suddenly, Anne heard a growl and she almost sobbed. After Gaea was put back to sleep she thought her forces would disperse but some still haven't. Some still stalked in packs and after they split up one of them shot her. They got smarter, using mortal weapons: harmless to monsters but deadly to demigods.

She was really having a bad day, first the hellhound incident now this, she seemed to keep popping up on the monster's dining menu. She could practically imagine how that thing will tear her limb from limb. Besides that she was still attempting to avoid going into shock from the bullet in her leg. Why didn't she look to check if she still had ambrosia in her purse before she headed out?

She slowly slid down against a wall. No point in moving it already has her scent, she either waits it out or needs to kill it. Anne then tried to take a deep breath. People in the movies take the bullet out right? If only Camp Half Blood taught how to remove bullets the same way they taught how to fight with blades. She wasn't prepared for this. Maybe-

"Hey, are you okay?" a soft voice asked in an odd accent.

She almost sobs in relief, maybe she can get out of this after all. She tried to speak, "I-I'm- I've been shot in the leg. Th-The-There someth-someone out there. I think a robber down that street," she pointed momentarily and took one hand off alleviating the pressure on her leg. "C-ca-can you call an a-ambu-ambulance? Please, my hands-" she looked down and drew attention to her blood-covered hands.

"Of course, dear, just keep pressure on the wound. Don't try to pull out the bullet you might just cause more damage," He said quietly pressing some buttons on his phone. He turned around for one second, probably to get the street name, and Anne quickly tried to shove the bronze dagger back into her dagger sleeve. She specifically ripped her pocket to give her access to the dagger strapped to her thigh. It wouldn't be a good idea for him or the medics to see it. The bullet wound burns as she accidently moved her left leg, trying to take off the sheath on the right leg. She saw the man was still telling her what to do with the wound as she ripped the sheath from her extended jean pocket to her boot.

No reason to make them think she's part of a gang or something. The less questions the better. If they rip her jeans at least they might not notice the extra fabric for a dagger to hide. The man then turned around as she put her hand back on the wound.

"How long?" she asked trying to cover up her sleight of hand. Hopefully he didn't notice her hide the dagger.

"Not long" he said as he knelt down and with one smooth move took her dagger out of her boot and slits her throat. If she wasn't so worried about not bleeding out and going into shock she would have noticed that the growling stopped a minute before the man came to her. As she bled out she saw him open a pouch and feels rather than sees power vibrating, flowing into it.

Some time later, in London, England

Athena sat on a bench near 221B Baker Street. She really should not be doing this but even parents have their favorites and so did she. This was the perfect opportunity to test out just how good Sherlock Holmes was. Well yes, and John Watson but she is a proud mother and her interest in her child was greater. He really has made a name for himself. On his adventures, he solved most of the cases that he has encountered. There is still room for improvement but he must be ready by now. An adult demigod who had made it to adulthood is quite significant. If only it was on his own merit. No one can blame her for trying to protect that lovely brain of his.

Now that brilliant brain is needed to track down the one person who has spoiled the peace that the Olympians were oh so enjoying. For once they were talking to their children, would you believe that. A god attending her daughter's graduation. In some months she is scheduled to be at another child's graduation, valedictorian as expected.

As John exited the building heading towards the hospital, she quickly got up and started walking towards door number 221B. She used the knocker to make her presence known and waited for an answer. A women, Mrs. Hudson, Athena presumed, opened the door and after she said her business she was ushered in.

"Sherlock, there is a woman here to see you! A Mrs. Olympia on the matter of a case," shouted Mrs. Hudson to Sherlock as she led Athena up the stairs.

"Tell her to come back later," Sherlock shouted from his room, "I am working on a case right now!"

"You are always working on a case, yet you still manage to take on one more," said a frustrated Mrs. Hudson as she arrived at Sherlock's entrance to his flat.

"This case is one of my old unfinished cases," Sherlock scoffed as he sat on the floor with his legs crossed while staring at a bunch of papers on the floor, "I am very close to solving this one. I can feel it!"

"So which one is it?" Mrs. Hudson inquired kindly as she leaned on the door.

"John called it 'A Sign of Four'," Sherlock replied before closing his eyes and added, "Go and be the good hostess. I am going to enter my mind palace. I will meet with the new client when I am done."

"She says she cannot wait, she has urgent business to attend to." Mrs Hudson explained to Sherlock.

"Fine," Sherlock grunted in annoyance, "They all say it's urgent. However since this case has been an ongoing case of mine for a long time I suppose one hour longer is acceptable."

Mrs Hudson showed Athena into the flat and Sherlock pulls up a chair for her to sit in. Athena stood by the door waiting for Sherlock's instructions, he was rather particular in his mindset, everything must be just so.

"Would you like some tea?" Mrs Hudson asks sweetly. She was very kind amongst Sherlock's rather abrupt nature.

"No thank you, I am in a quiet a hurry," Athena politely declines trying to show to Sherlock she understands his impatience. It would be easier to ask him to take on her case if he saw her as an intellectual equal, though little does he know she is the very goddess of wisdom herself. No one surpassed her in intelligence, other than Zeus, according to custom, or at least she allows him believe that.

"Before you enter," Sherlock said while he sat down in his comfy chair near the fireplace, "Make sure to NOT step on the papers on the floor. They are pertinent to the case I was working on. When you sit in the chair, we will begin."

Athena walked to the chair in the middle of the room, trying to avoid the papers scattered across the room like a minefield. She was quite sure Sherlock might just blow up like an explosive. The burden of knowledge, she saw, he did not handle well. He was created from thought and his mind raced as fast as them as well. Unfortunately mortal minds are not built for the knowledge of gods. It is sad that he resorted to substances to assist him in thinking every now and then.

"Now then," Sherlock began once Athena had sat down, "What troubles you? Judging from the look of your hair you're not worried you're being cheated on. In fact you're not even married since you don't have the crease a wedding ring would give you. You wear casual clothes which are neat indicating it's not very urgent at all. If your business was urgent your clothes would be dishevelled and there'd be wrinkles. Maybe even some rips. Obviously you think highly of yourself judging by your posture. That may be due to your profession. Maybe a police officer from your practical clothes and ready stance. On the other hand, maybe a professor? You have a teacher's gaze, that 'I know all' look, if you don't mind me saying. Now you may talk." He ended his speech with a wave of his hand, like a conductor, her signal to speak. He really was an old soul.

"Well done, though how can you guess I was not sure to choose my clothing carefully enough to mislead you?" Athena inquired, she stifled a smile as she tested him. His assumptions were abrupt and jumped from the vaguest and barest of details to sudden conclusions which were one amongst many. If he was not of godly blood, one would consider him mad. For a person who holds himself to not understand human nature he really can spot the patterns well. Too bad she was not human, little did he know.

"Simple," Sherlock said, "Even someone trying to mislead me would have a telltale sign. The most obvious that the farce does not match your personality and the way you would hold yourself, and would therefore be awkward. Another sign could be a lose thread near the buttons of the clothes from them being forced to enter the buttonholes tearing the stitching, which would indicate urgency. It could also be your hair having a slight strand of hair sticking up at an odd angle from the speed of the brushing. On the other hand, an excess use of hair and beauty products would indicate an anxiety and urgence to show a certain angle of oneself. Another telltale sign, your clothes would've been too neat and orderly. For a women those would be the usual telltale signs. Now make me believe it's urgent and tell me why you're here."

Some weeks later, in Camp Half-Blood…

The demigods were preparing for capture the flag. They chose their armour, grabbed their weapons and assembled by the woods. The two teams had prepared their battle strategies and were both confident of their victory.

Chiron stepped forward and announced the rules as usual, "Since you all know the rules I will keep this short. All previous rules apply, and for the newcomers I advise for you all to avoid the Labyrinth access areas. Councillors, please make sure the rules are followed. Let's make sure the game ends before sundown shall we? Now, to arms!"

Throughout the crowd the team leaders started calling their teams to order. The Athena cabin was on the blue team and their councilor lead the group. The Ares team, as by tradition, was on the red team making remarks as they their team ran to the north-west to set up their flag. The Hephaestus cabin was on the blue team and one of them made a quick joke at the red team.

"Blue team, on me." Malcolm gestured with his one arm, the other held his grappling hook, "We will set up our post according to out prior plans." The group divided most going to Zeus's fist to set up a decoy defence. Another part of the group were sent as offence to acquire the red team's flag. A few were left to patrol. The rest were sent to hide the flag in a thicker part of the woods. Time to see if their strategy will work.

The red team, on the other hand, wasn't going on defence. They placed their flag near the Myrmekes hill and a handful of guards in the area to guard it. A few were sent to patrol. The rest were on the offence trying to capture the blue's teams flag.

In the shadows, hidden from the demigods stood a man decked in black clothes waiting for his opportunity to divide and conquer. While the demigods play their game, he will play his own.

After the game, a camper was found dead in the woods. Everyone was distraught but assumed it was due to the Myrmekes as indicated by the wounds. In the shadows a figure camped out in the woods happily cleaning his knife after a job well done.

Later that week in New York,

Hunters have spread rumours of an organised demigod encampment somewhere in the state of New York. Eventually a hunter came forward who claimed to know exactly where it was. He seemed like an amateur, but if his information was solid it won't matter. All that matters was that they find the encampment and dismantle it. According to him it will require a lot of hunters as there is roughly thirty demigods at the camp.

That's why Sam and Dean drove to New York to talk to the hunter. The journey was long but they hoped it was worthwhile. A demigod encampment is not something hunters encounter everyday.

"It seems pretty sketchy. He could be making it up for attention," Dean said as they arrived at New York.

"That's why we're going to the bar he was last seen at," Sam replied before the silence resumed while Sam looked at Dean in concern; Dean hasn't been the same ever since Cas was killed by the Devil. Sam worried that Dean was trying to use that aggression against every monster they encounter. If he kept that up he might eventually get himself killed from his recklessness.

When the brothers arrived, they exited the impala without a word before they headed towards the bar's entrance. As the brothers entered the bar everyone seemed to turn to look at them. The Dean soon realised that there seem to be quite a few hunters. One even had his tattoo showing, clearly to protect from demonic possession. Another seemed to be playing with her knife, checking for scratches. Sam went straight for the bar and asked the bartender to pour him a glass.

"You're one of the Winchesters right?" the bartender quizzed as he poured a glass of liquor.

"That's right," Sam answered as the bartender gave him the glass," Anyway, down to business. Have you seen seen a guy who goes by the name of Marco Ultio ?" He was not at all surprised that people knew their name after all the trouble they caused and solved. This just made it easier for other hunters to know they mean business, not bad a bad thing when gathering information.

"Nope," the bartender replied shrugging his shoulders, "Never saw a guy by that name. Saw plenty of Micheals, Samanthas, but no Marcos today, try later in the day."

"Dang," Sam said as he took a sip of his drink, "What about the man that has brought all these hunters here?"

"I'll tell you one thing," the bartender said as he frowned, "These hunters are being unusually quiet. Almost as if they're planning to go to war or something. If they are, I'm getting the hell out of dodge if you catch my drift." From some of the pictures behind a the bar, it's clear he had family to take care of. He had them standing in some photos with some famous people. It's clear from the kids' faces that he's their father, and from the smiling woman that she's his wife.

"An encampment of demigods is a pretty big deal, don't you think?" Sam remarked.

"I wouldn't know, not my business," the bartender said, "Never been on a hunt in my life. I may like the business but I don't like the trouble. I was there during a few of the crises a while back. Just a bystander, but I saw some shit not even the devil would believe." Then bartender wiped the table, probably a habit, hadn't noticed he was doing it.

"Then I have a feeling we should talk somewhere privately," Sam said as he narrowed his eyes, "I have a feeling you have a personal opinion of the demigods that the hunters won't like."

While Sam was talking to the bartender, Dean had chatted up a hunter at a booth.

With Dean...

"Hey there beautiful, come here often?" The blonde-haired woman didn't even bother turning around. Her eyes went to her glass, she glanced at the reflection.

She rolled her eyes, "What do you want Winchester?" She didn't even bother to give her name, she had other plans for today no need for a Winchester to find her later. In her dark clothes and weapons in her bag, she was dressed for a hunt.

"So you know who I am?" Dean asked haughtily.

"Everyone at this bar probably knows who you are, not just the hunters," She said sickenly sweet.

"All good things I hope," Dean said.

"Not really, you have a thing for starting trouble. Like the time you started the apocalypse." She tilted her head as if asking for him to contradict her.

"Well…That…was an accident." Dean looked around, seeing his brother he was reminded why he was there in the first place, "So do you know where this Ultio guy is. Claims to know where a bunch of demigods are camped out." Down to business then.

"Not much, haven't talked to him yet, I like to do my own digging. He didn't seem like a reputable source. Know barely anything about him, seems relatively new, maybe changed his name at least once. Wondering what he's really up to. He supposedly had a few men already prepared for a strike team. He's still looking for volunteers though. Heard he came by the bar around 6, and that would be him," her eyes flickered behind Dean to a figure near the doorway.

"New huh," Dean said as he narrowed his eyes, "I'd have to agree with your instincts. No way a rookie could find a whole encampment of demigods quick just by dumb luck."

"Winchester, I presume" the man inquired as he walked up to Dean.

"Everyone seems to know my name," Dean grumbled before looking up at the man and replied, "Who wants to know? Did I kill a hunter buddy of yours or something? Maybe I boned your sister and you want payback? Also, what is a British hunter like you doing in America? You should be following your Men of Letters master's orders."

"Irish actually, and things seem to be more flexible here in America, thought I would give it a try," replied Ultio with an untrustworthy look in his eyes.

"Here's a thought," Dean said as he stood up and looked him straight in the eyes, "You're bluffing. We don't want you here. Go back to London and you just might make it back in time for tea and biscuits."

"How does a rookie, such as yourself, find a whole encampment of demigods so easily?" the female hunter asked as she joined in on the conversation.

"You don't believe me? I could show you, me and the team are going out tonight to scout the area. There's plenty of demigods to go around," Ultio pointed out his small group of hunters that had assembled at the back booth of the bar.

"You know what?" Dean said, "I'll pass. As much as I'd love to go kill something right now, I have no desire to get involved in a massacre." He might be up for a hunt but even he knew the odds of hunters coming back from a fight with demigods. He wasn't that reckless.

"Suit yourself, just thought the great Winchesters would want a piece of the action," Ultio sneered. He clearly didn't think much of the Winchesters if his sarcastic tone is anything to go by. There was something odd about him too. From his expression throughout the discussion the reason why anyone wouldn't trust him is evident, he doesn't seem like a man that would get his hands dirty. He seems like a thinker, like Sam though more of the criminal variety.

"Nah, we know when something is a death trap. Best of luck fellas," Dean turned and walked away, he waved a hand mockingly in the process. There are plenty of other cases for them to take, no need to team up with this amateur. Dean nodded at Sam before he walked out of the bar to his '67 Chevy Impala.

A few days later in Camp Half Blood,

The demigods were going about their daily business. The lava wall was spewing lava as demigods try to climb it. The remaining Hephaestus cabin spent most of its time in Bunker 9. As every other day, today anyone could hear the sound of an explosion and the rising smoke. Chiron played pinochle with those willing to try their hand at the game. Often it is the satyrs which play an occasional game with him. Chiron would win most time, he's had thousands of years of practice.

At night they got ready to sleep. The campers put away their armour and turned off their lights. A few were still awake as they thought of the adventures that were await them tomorrow. Chiron put on his hair curlers and settled into bed. The harpies flew around cleaning up camp.

The Hunters near the borders of Camp Half Blood were already prepared to attack the camp. There were three cars of them. Not that many hunters came as was expected, only a mere eleven showed up. Their trunks were full of weapons. All the hunters were determined to take down the demigods. These types of hunts were what earned hunters their reputations. This was too good of an opportunity to miss.

Once they came to the border they found that the guards were dead and one of the trees was burnt to a crisp with what looked like melted gold in a puddle beside it.

It was previously agreed that Ultio would go ahead as a large party drew too much attention. Now as the defences were weak they attacked.

The Hunters spread out and silently walked to the cabins that were neatly arranged. They first set the cabins on fire to smoke out the demigods. Some of the demigods choked to death on the smoke, and some burned to death. Some were lucky enough to escape the cabins before they died.

Hunters waited to ambush the demigods. Some were staked through the heart. Their corpses littered the camp. Demigods and hunters alike tripped over their bloodied corpses. Adults and kids were both among the dead.

The Greek demigods fought back but were too tired. They were all in a panic at being woken up so suddenly and so cruelly. How was it that mortals know where their camp resided? Did they have a traitor in their midst?

Some from the Hephaestus cabin used their gadgets and their targets went up in smoke. The Demeter cabin failed to use their plants as they burns around them. Hecate's children managed to use their spells but for some reason they did not have their full effect on the intruders.

The demigods were at a disadvantage as their celestial bronze weapons could not harm the raiders. Instead some of their weapons were used against them as fell into enemy hands.

The trees were screaming. The tree spirits tried to put out the woods as the plants and trees caught fire.

Chiron woke up too late to help. He lamented the absence of Dionysus who could have surely helped at least take the demigods to safety. He was disgusted by the hunter's lack of morals for killing mere children. Attacking at night is strategic, not even a fair warning.

Not many senior councilors were at camp during this time of year and so not all were very experienced in fighting, there did not stand a chance against the seasoned hunters.

Few campers made it into the forest before they were shot down.

That day Camp Half Blood was burned to the ground so only ashes remain. Demigods were scattered and the Hunters rejoiced their great exploits. The Big House was raided and any precious objects were taken as trophies. The gods checked on them too late, seeing the corpses of their children as they were stomped on by the Hunters.

DragonFire1207 and I do apologize for the length of the Prologue, but we had to fit in a lot of the major characters of the story to introduce them and had to introduce story arcs of the story. I also wanted to be sure to add some camp life scenes so the die-hard Percy Jackson and the Olympians fans would be satisfied. this story takes place... maybe a week after the events of Heroes of Olympus. They won't be referenced much since I haven't read all of the books and I think some other people haven't either. For the Supernatural portion of this this'll take place a day or so after the events of Supernatural Season 12, but the nephilim Jack is already with the angels or Demons because it'd get too confusing considering the fact that I'm using a very old serial killer that actually lived in our world's history as a main villain. For you Sherlock fans this takes place after season 4 of Sherlock. Do expect to have more Sherlock scenes in the future. unfortunately this story won't have any set dates for the uploads and the uploads will be even rarer than the ones for my Red vs blue: the New Adventures. Neither of us own the characters or the worlds. We only own the story and any OCs that may appear if any. This universe is NOT in the official canon or established universe/multiverse i created for Before the Crisis: Tales of the Multiverse. Also, since there are currently two story arcs going on at the same time we'll be doing the Dean & Sam chapters after the Sherlock chapters, but both will involve PJO. this is primarily Sherlock & PJO though so don't be surprised if most of the chapters are Sherlock based or if the story keeps going on after Dean & Sam leave the story.