Weird Dreams....

Ok, so this may sound totally, completely weird and random, but I wrote a short story based on a dream that I had a few weeks ago. In this very strange dream (it was kind of a remix of Percy Jackson and the Olympians...) I lived in Greece in a village that was in a dry, barren land. The Greeks and Romans were having a war, and I was fighting all these different monsters from Greek mythology like minotaurs, hydras, hellhounds, and manticores. And I'll just say it: I was totally bad-ass. Anyway, I wrote a short story about it, and I created all these characters, and I kind of just created my own little story. There's about 4-5 chapters in it, and some are long and some are short, so I'm going to post the first chapter today, because I don't want to bore you, because then the story loses all excitement. If there is any. I haven't let anyone read it yet, so I don't have feedback. So let me know if you like it or if you think it's absolutely terrible. Because I would love to know. BTW, a lot of this came from my imagination, not from my dream ;) Chapter 1 I watched in fear as a flaming arrow the size of a chariot flew over my head and landed about 50 yards from where I was standing and exploded, sending people flying backwards in all different directions, landing with a thud on the ground. A gust of warm air blew my hair out of my face for me. I tossed my sword around in my calloused hand absentmindedly and said to myself, "ok..." I needed to go find some monsters to fight, or go find someone and help them fight monsters. Everyone that had been blown backwards seemed fine, so I ran the opposite direction to go find something else. "Hey, Atalanta!" I heard a voice yell behind me. "Duck!" I dropped on all fours, then onto my stomach. "Roll to your left!" "Stand up!" Everything became clear again: the bright sun coming out of the fluffy, white clouds, and little scuffles and fights everywhere. It was a beautiful day; it's just too bad there was a fight going on. In front of me was a black pile of goo. That means the thing I had been ducking and moving away from were these annoying little things called "BB's", which stand for "bird bombs." They are what they sound like, which is not a good thing. When they sense you, they are attached to you like a magnet, and you have to move kind of fast and trick them to avoid being blown up. Sometimes it doesn't happen that they melt into black goo, but I guess I got lucky today. "Thanks, Tana!" I yelled. "No problem. Be careful!" She yelled back. "You too!" Tana was one of the best fighters in the village besides Theseus (you'll be introduced to him soon), other men and women, and I. Tana, Theseus, and I were introduced to fighting technique at an early age, at about five, because at the time, there was a war going on. A bad one, too. And they were almost willing to risk young ones in the battlefield because it got so bad. I ran over to a little boy named Eli, who was about 13, and a good fighter. He wasn't very experienced, but we were all impressed by his skills and perseverance. He was fighting two drakon at a time, which was extremely hard, even for someone with advanced fighting skills. Drakon are these weird, awful, terrible, creatures that look like women, but they are like snakes. They're snake women, and they have razor-sharp claws. Not just any razor, but brand new razors. Eli had a long scratch that started at his right ear, and swooped down to his left collarbone. It was bleeding a lot, and looked pretty nasty. I raised my sword, taking careful aim, and chopped the two drakons' heads off. The creatures went POOF in a cloud of dust. "Thanks," he said, looking tired and exasperated. "No problem, Eli. Go clean that up." "Alrighty." He turned around and ran towards the medicine house. I turned around to go find some more drakon to kill, but instead, after I turned around and was met face-to-face with a deadly opponent that was much, much worse: A manticore. You see, manticores can shoot poison out of their throats and nostrils (disgusting, I know), and once it touches your skin, that part on your skin burns off. If you're lucky, not more than a few layers of it. But that's not it. The poison, if it sinks into you're skin and through it, which it usually does, it reaches your bloodstream and will kill you in five minutes. And their claws are dull, but they could give you bruises like crazy. So, I was face-to-face with this manticore, right? It's poisonous breath makes my brain go fuzzy and my eyes sting and flutter, and it takes all my willpower to not fall over. I was about to push the thing back with my shield, but before I could, I was too late and the thing already had me held down on top of a thorn bush. Ouch. I felt thorns tearing at my legs, and on my neck and cheeks. "Hey, worm-breath!" I yelled in its ugly face. "Back off!" "Grrr!" it replied. "OK," I said, positioning my arms by putting my elbows secure on the ground, and my lower palms on the manticore's body. I wish I could've used my shield, but it was at least two feet away from me, out of reach. "Fine." With all the strength I could muster at that point, I pushed upwards with all my might in an attempt to get the thing off of me. But he had me down good, and I couldn't do it. His weight, about five hundred pounds, plus the weight of the pressure that was holding me down, was too much for me to muster. "Aaagghhh!" I yelled in frustration. The manticore opened his mouth, and I saw that deadly green poison in the back of its throat, bubbling and sizzling. Just so you know, the only other time I fought a manticore in my 16 years of life was with Theseus, and that was two experienced, talented fighters against a full-grown manticore. A fair match, more or less. But this time it was just me, an experienced fighter against a full-grown manticore. Not a fair match. Big drops of poison dripped out of his throat and onto my face and neck. I tried to cover them up with my hands, but it burned some of my flesh away and just seeped onto my neck again. "Nooo!" I said. "Oh no!" I tried to ignore the pain that tore and burned on my face and neck. It was pretty excruciating. Was this the end of my short days? I was only 16! I took what I thought was my final breath as the manticore leaned back, ready to take fire and burn my body to ashes. But as it was about to spit, it froze and turned to dust above me, sifting through my hands and getting all over me. How had THAT happened? Here I am, on the brink of death, and the manticore decides to disintegrate? I think not. I coughed out some sand and stood up, but my vision was blurry, probably because of the poison that was now running through my bloodstream. My vision still blurry, a pair of strong, comforting arms wrapped around me and held me close. Theseus. "Close call, Atalanta." Theseus's voice whispered in my ear. "You okay?" I coughed into his armor, which was cold and felt amazing on my burned face and neck. "Sort of." I mumbled, my vision now tinged with black. I wanted to and meant to say, "yes, I'm just great," but my mind couldn't really process rational thoughts at the current moment. The poison was starting to get to me. "Manticore poison...not helping." "It got poison on you? Oh no. Hey, we need to get you some help." I wanted to say, "Idiot, look at my face. Of course it got poison on me." Instead I said, "no...I need to keep fighting...they're adavancing...and the left rear is...weak on defense..." But Theseus was already grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the medicine house for help. "No..." I muttered. "Must...keep fighting." Theseus scooped me up before I could fall over sideways and started running when there was a loud boom behind us, and I felt a rush of heat. "Atalanta, stay awake. You have to stay awake. Don't give up. Please. Atalanta, can you hear me?" His voice sounded distant, like in a dream. The worst part about all of this is that the whole time, I couldn't feel my body. Just excruciating pain. The worst I've ever felt. And that's saying a lot. And I could feel the poison coursing through my viens. Or perhaps the worst part was that I was still living with the knowledge that I might die at any second. I was laid down on a bed and I heard Theseus say, "Manticore poison. If you don't do something soon, she has three minutes." Three minutes! Three minutes of life left and I'm sitting on a bed? No! I should be riding a pegasus over the Red Sea right now! It's on my bucket list, what can I say? Theseus sounded terrified, like he was going through the same pain that I was. Maybe he was, I'm not sure. "I'll do what I can, Theseus. I--I just hope I can do anything at all, dearie." The last thought that I had was that I knew that Theseus hated being called "dearie," and that the look on his face must've been hysterical. Or maybe he didn't care because his best friend was dying right before his eyes. "You'll be okay, Atalanta," were his last words before I gave into darkness.