Live Like A Warrior (Book 3 of the Real World Chronicles)

Ch. 1: The Warrior

Cold. Sheer, bitter cold.

Even for a dream, the mint green-haired girl could feel the ice particles in the air stinging her skin. It was dark, yet her surroundings gave off an eerie red glow, causing any comet black surfaces around her to glisten and to distinguish the surrounding fog she was wandering through. She felt herself standing on top of something and jumped out of the way when it moved; the floor panel shaped like a disheartened moon rose 'til it was three feet above her, unveiling a deep-freeze capsule with some sort of silhouette inside it. Was this a cryogenic body?

Before she even could take a closer look, the capsule and its surroundings were immediately swallowed back up in the fog, again. The cries of men and echoes of gunshots sounded in the distance. She had to run. But where? All that she knew was she had to get away from here. So, she ran. And ran, and ran, and ran, but the sounds only drew closer.

Eventually, the fog cleared up and the girl found herself back in a house with a living room that had a demolished wall draped over with a tarp in the dead of night. But that was when things started getting very trippy.

Any wind blowing outside the house crawled to a standstill, still visibly noticeable that it was still blowing, yet remained as if it appeared still. All of the girl's surroundings turned a familiar dark jungle emerald green as this was happening. And when she spoke, it was like another person was talking at the same time.

"Guys?/◼️◼️? Guys!/◼️◼️! What's happening?! Guys/Professor, help me!" Willow traveled up the stairs while calling out for help, her voice and the distorted one echoing off the walls. "Guys/Professor! Guys/Professor!" She searched the upstairs; seemingly, the master bedroom was deserted, as to was the attic. In the background, she could hear the incredibly slow ticking of a clock. She ran back downstairs and anxiously looked around, feeling a panic attack coming up as the ticking sped up to more normal pace.

What she didn't expect was her head to snap back; it felt like an amber lightning bolt struck through her brain and a bullet pierced through her body. At that moment, the last thing she remembered was a pair of vengeful ruby eyes snapping to life with electricity glowing in them.

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Willow snapped out of her sleeping bag in a cold sweat, panting. The nightmares were back, again. This was the seventh time she had been having them.

Feeling restless, she quietly slipped out of her sleeping bag and crept over the Mobians' beds to the window; Tom and Maddie Wachowski had recently put in the money to buying Tails and Knuckles new beds for them, being in the shape of either a a blue plane or a yellow dump truck. Leaning over Sonic's red race car bed, where the hedgehog was still fast asleep and loudly snoring, Willow peeked through the blinds to check on the morning weather.

It looked to be about twenty minutes from the crack of dawn and partially cloudy. Meaning another cool, cloudy day. Probably will have to plan on wearing jeans again, today. Since her parents had made the troublesome trek to the Wachowskis from Bozeman Yellowstone International Airport, the second closest airport away from Green Hills where they could take the southern route into town, she'd had a suitcase full of clothes and other necessities just for her. And the weather had been unusually cool for late spring, as of late. It just felt unnatural. When will it end?!

Her parents got to meet the Wachowskis in person for the very first time; luckily, she made sure that the Mobians stayed out of sight while they were there. She didn't like lying to her parents, but she had to continue keeping her extraterrestrial friends a secret from any other unfortunate prying eyes.