Phoebe Crain

I accidentally stab a puppy

I never wanted this. A life of shadows and monsters - I was going to be normal. But no, the universe decided it was time for me get an extreme life makeover and tipped me into another world, a world full of fighting and constantly worrying that you and your friends were about to get killed by some ugly, growling... thing.

It all started on a perfectly ordinary day, I came back from school, ready to flop onto the sofa, turn the TV on and ignore the massive pile of homework that was steadily growing on my desk, like some huge parasite. Ugh. So anyway, completely normal day. When suddenly, AAAAAH! A scream came from outside. Terror beginning to creep up on me, I strode over to the window and looked out onto the street. It was hard to tell, given that we were so high up in the apartment block, but I could make out a crowd of pedestrians backing away slowly from a... no, that couldn't be right. I shook my head, thinking I was imagining something — there were no Hellhounds in Manhattan, only in books. I looked out the window again, drawing back the moth eaten curtain. There was definitely something there. A great, big, lumbering thing with dark fur, pointy ears, a tail and a snout, it looked a bit like a giant dog, one of those really aggressive German Shepherds, only completely black and absolutely huge. Oh, and there was the fact that it was snarling viciously at a small boy, a boy with dark black hair swept over his eyes and an orange T. Shirt. He was holding up something long and metal, trying to ward off the monster.

Something snapped me into action. I grabbed my jacket off the back of a chair, rammed my feet into boots and pushed open the door, heading for the stairwell. A hand reached me and tugged me back — my mom (well, foster mom, technically).

"And where do you think you're going, young lady?" I sighed, she clearly hadn't heard the scream like I had.

"I'll be right back," I promised "I just... saw something. Got to go. Love you." I shrugged her hand off of my shoulder and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before racing down the stairs, as fast as I could without falling down 8 flights and breaking my neck.

By the time I made it to the street I could see that most of the pedestrians had fled, leaving only a few stragglers cowering behind the boy. A man ran up to me, looking panicked, he told me to get away from the man or he'd shoot me, he was pointing at the beast. I looked between him and the monster in puzzlement — whatever the hellhound creature was, it was not some man with a gun. I turned my attention to the boy with dark hair. I could see him clearly now; tall, skinny, kind of scrawny. I would have thought he would have been terrified, but his face was concentrating on the monster, his hands perfectly steady gripping a long metal sword. Wait a minute? Sword? He seemed to have caught me staring at him as he turned to me and shouted at me to get away before turning back to the monster and cursing in some language I didn't understand. I tried to recognize what he was saying but it sounded old, Latin or Greek I thought. I frowned, the boy didn't look foreign, he had pale skin and - I stopped myself, trust me and my ADHD to start worrying about the language he was speaking, when we were both about to get pulverized by some monster. I skidded toward the boy and shouted over the snarling,

"I want to help you!" He turned to me and glared, his expression a mixture of puzzlement, pity and anger.

"There's nothing you can do, mortal." He shrugged, as if he did this everyday, before lunging with his sword and making a jab at the hellhound. Only later did I register the fact that he had called me a mortal - like he wasn't. Blood streamed from a wound in the monster's leg and it whimpered in pain. Unfortunately, it seemed to recover pretty quickly and used its... I guess you would call them paws, to push the boy on his back, it's claws grazing his stomach, batting his sword out of his hands. The boy tried to reach for his sword and stand up but quickly collapsed, the hound turned its attention to me and the small crowd of people that remained huddled in the street. I had never felt more helpless. Frozen, I stared as the creature nosed towards a little girl. Quickly I snapped out of my state of shock and grabbed the boy's sword from where it lay discarded on the pavement. I don't know how I knew what to do, but it was as if my instincts took over. I jabbed at the hellhound's head and then feinted to the left before stabbing it's already injured right leg. It howled in pain and I took the momentary distraction as chance to slice the sword across the creature's chest in an arc. It dissolved into a heap of dust, quickly blown away by the wind. I whirled around to check behind me, the bystanders appeared have fled, it was silent in the street like nothing had ever happened.

And I almost might have believed it, if it weren't for the boy who had managed to stand and was beginning to stagger over to me. As he got closer, I could see that his orange shirt had words scrawled over it in black writing and an image of what looked like a horse on it. Sadly, the words were unreadable because his shirt had three large rips in it, where the creature's claws had raked it. I could see the rusty color of blood seeping through the fabric.

"I believe that sword belongs to me," he held out his hand with a crooked grin and I swallowed nervously before placing the hilt of the sword gently in his hand.

"W-who are you?" I stammered, now the rush of the battle was over, realization of what had just happened swept over me. Realization mixed with fear. The boy took the sword and held out his other hand, for me to shake, the smile still on his face.

"I'm Connor," he said, "Connor Bayhallow." The boy - Connor, looked at me expectantly.

"Oh, um," I began trying not to sound like some blubbering little girl who had no idea what she was doing, "I'm Phoebe Crain." His piercing blue eyes raked me up and down, from my tangled, choppy, shoulder length brown hair, my dull brown eyes, my old T-shirt, to my faded jeans and boots. I felt suddenly conscious of the fact that I was stained with blood and sweat - altogether not an attractive look. He gazed at me quizzically as if trying really hard to figure something out, before finally breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"So, Phoebe Crain, who are your parents?" I was taken aback, that didn't seem like the kind of thing you asked someone you had just met. Although, to be fair Connor didn't seem like a normal boy either, so I let it slide.

"I don't know, I'm adopted." I told him, "Why? What's it got to do with you?" I added, suddenly curious. The boy smiled again,

"Well, then, we better get you to camp. Although, Mr. D wont be pleased... I better tell Chiron in advance..." He trailed off, biting his lip as if deep in thought.

"Woah, back up a minute. What camp? Who's Mr. D? And who's Chiron? Do you mean the centaur? Like in the Greek myths?" That seemed to startle him.

"You know about Greek myths?" He asked, as if it was the most important question ever.

"I've just always liked them I guess." I shrugged, not thinking it was anything unusual. Connor grabbed my wrist suddenly,

"I knew it!" He muttered to himself, "Come on, no time to tell Chiron, we've got to get you to camp." I snatched my wrist out of his grasp,

"What is going on?!" I demanded,

"We have to get you some place safe." His eyes were darting around, as though he thought someone was watching us.

"I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell what is happening!" My voice had risen to a shout,

"You have to, there's no time to explain, please," He persisted, "just come with me."

"I'm not going." I replied stubbornly.

"Fine," Connor sighed, "I didn't want to have to do this but..." I looked at him in confusion, just as he brought the hilt of his sword down on my head. I began to fall, and the darkness enveloped me.