• Kings, Warriors,
    And Mystical Creatures
    By: hobamoo
    Prologue: The Dream



    I was never good at pretending to be dead, but I was proud I’d made it this far, but I had to move my right hand, to get rid of the itching pain. There were about a dozen guards surrounding me, each with an assortment of tattoos and one or two scars. A few of the men took a couple steps towards me, then they took one step back to look at their fellow mates almost as if they’d never see them again and continued forward. I was lying on an old hospital bed with chains tightened around me. They’d captured me before, maybe two years back because of the Ring of Ruby, I escaped as usual, but this time I came back for revenge, revenge on the King of Gordelious.
    Yet, he’d captured me once again. Except he doesn’t know that I’ve grown stronger, stronger in so many different ways. Pretending to be dead until this second was one of them. I was so tempted to kill him, the King of Gordelious. I know he’s suspicious too, since after one blow of lightning I was out cold. That’s why he’s put only 12 of his men in front of me. The rest are probably around every corner, waiting to attack if necessary.
    But what I want to know is where that King Scardy Cat is hiding. Maybe in the Lost Tower of Tyson, or the Misty Gardens. Where ever he was I was going to find him, find him, and kill him.
    The first of the guards surrounding me reached towards my face, he had to be checking my pulse or something that had to do with seeing if I was truly alive. I eased my eyes over to the guards’ weapons; they each had a harpoon, a 44 magnum, and a few other guns and knives I could not identify. The guard touched my neck, and as he pulled away he felt a single pulse and yelled at the top of his lungs, “MAGGOT’S ALIVE!”
    I knew this was the time to focus myself into a trance, a trance that would possibly cause a situation King Scardey Cat would have to fix. My fist clenched together, my eyes squeezed shut. Immediately my chains flung off my limbs and attacked the wall. My smile wasn’t happy, more deliciously full of anger. The guards suddenly stepped back.
    It looked like the captain of the group was repeating, “BACK-UP! CODE RED! CODE RED!” into his microphone. He had a long scare racing from his left eye, across his nose, and down his neck. The captain seemed angry; hatred filled his flaming red eyes and reflected off me. I knew him from somewhere, somewhere recently.
    I thought hard about him. The scar, and the eyes, and the way they both looked at me. It stung me suddenly, fast and vibrant. He was him. The man who swore to kill me with his bare hands if I ever returned back to the Castle of Gordelious. But since here I was, standing six feet away from him, he might as well kill me now.
    The captain was useless in my opinion, so I continued in my trance. I flung myself off the bed and into the deep, cold air. One of the guards held his 44 magnum at me. I didn’t bother keeping him alive. I flung my right arm at him and he hit the slimy wall fiercely. I was still weak. Many other men charged at me but each one tumbled to death. I found this very amusing to my soul. I kept killing man by man until all that was left was the captain.
    I was still floating in mid-air as he glared at me.
    Now would be a good time to observe the location I was in so I could at least find the exit of the castle. The walls were pure white with a hint of dead bodies. The floor was tiled with a dash of blood. There were no windows, just pure white. Only one door and that was behind the Captain. The door was icy silver coated with gold. I let the tips of my boots slowly hit the ground. The vibration that my boots had caused made the captain fall to his knees. He fell to his face and drowned in the chaos of the other dead bodies.
    My hand flung up, palm out, face stern. Without even touching the doorknob or the door, the whole wall collapsed onto the hallway on the other side of me. I was proud I’d learned this trick, controlling objects with my hands. Thinking of losing the talent hurt me.
    I walk steadily down the hall. Crumples of sheetrock and wall paper clicked and clacked as I took each step. I kept a good pace until the shivers of the wall diminished on the tiled floor. I was alone. I sensed it. I could feel that they’d left. Left without killing me, without saving the few of their men I’d hurt. This was not planned, not planned at all.
    I scanned the hallway. Everything a creamy white. I turned around hoping to see the mess of the wall and the dead bodies but there was nothing. No trace at all of my arrival. Of the killing I had done so easily. I ran. Ran like there was nothing to see or do, but run. I followed the exit signs for a majority of the time, but one I realized I was going in complete circles; I followed the route my trance had mapped out.
    The outside of the castle was nasty. The grass was burnt and had dissolved into the air. The air was filthy, full of dirt and the smell of shriveled up apples. I didn’t like apples. My pearly blue eyes were glued on the clouds. A trail of smoke lead North East, towards Hondi. I had to warn the others…


    (To Be Continued)