CHRONOLYMPUS

Chapter IIX: This is Why I Avoid Public Bathrooms

―ORION―

I know that all of you guys reading this were, like, "This Castor guy's chapters are so dark and depressing! And Z is so boring! What happened to my favorite character, Orion? He should be in the story A LOT more because of his insane good looks, he's the cooler one compared to his brothers, and he's fucking awesome!"

And yes, I did just break the fourth wall. And please don't tell Castor or Z I said all that stuff. Castor will send me to the Underworld, and Z will electrocute me.

Anyway, the name's Orion Rodriguez. Some of you may be asking, "But didn't Z say not too long ago that his Mom's last name was Kudrow?"

Yup, I just read your minds.

I go by my Mom's maiden name. I refuse to use the name Kudrow for many reasons, mainly because my deadbeat for a father was a huge asshole, and I want absolutely nothing to do with the bastard. But I can't reveal my tragic back story just yet for the sake of the plot. I can't tell you guys too much about me when my story is still at its beginning, because where's the fun in that?

So back to the story. I was in the middle of kicking dracanae ass as I was yelling lines from Deadpool at them, which seemed to annoy the hell out of the snake-women. In case you were wondering why I was so obsessed with the Deadpool franchise, I'll tell you. (And even if you weren't curious, you'll get to hear it anyway. Lucky you!) When I heard about Deadpool, I thought the comic books were about pools, like, the ones you use for swimming, and I had no idea why a guy in red and black spandex was on the cover, but I read it anyway, and I got 'hooked'. (Get it? I'm Poseidon, god of the sea, and I 'hooked'! I'm sorry, that was horrible.) And when the movie came out, I had the craziest fan-boy moment in history.

Sorry, I'm getting sidetracked again.

I stabbed a dracaena in the stomach as a spear whizzed past my ear, and then I delivered an epic roundhouse kick to another's face before I threw my trident at her. The three prongs impaled themselves through her body. I held out my hand, commanding my trident to me. The metal weapon hummed with energy before the metal bar shot into my palm.

I stabbed the points of my weapon into the ground, held tightly onto the bar, jumped up into the air, and then I began to run on top of the dracanaes' heads, making my way to the exit, stabbing some of them in their chests in the process. "Sorry, ladies!" I shouted to them. "I know you guys want to spend more time with moi, I mean, all women do, but I got somewhere to be!"

But right when I got near the door, a dracaena threw a javelin at me, and I failed to deflect it with my trident. It stabbed into my shoulder, and I let out a grunt when I fell hard on my back. My head was swimming from my collision with the floor and the pain in my shoulder. I pulled out the javelin as I saw dracanae slithering towards me. One of them tried to stab me in the face with a spear, but I brought up my trident against its tip. I tried to kick her, but a few more dracaena pinned down my legs and wrestled my trident from my grip. Right when I let go of my bronze weapon, I heard a loud hissing sound as its bar grew red-hot in a dracaena's hands. She yelped as she dropped it, letting it clatter onto the floor. I tried to summon it back into my hands, but more snake-women pinned my arms down. They were a lot stronger than they looked. I bet that they could go head-to-head with John Cena and kick his steroid-enhanced ass.

The dracaena with burnt hands cursed in ancient Greek. "His trident is made from celestial bronze!" she hissed.

"Of course it is!" yelled another that was holding down my legs. "Just hurry up and restrain him with the ropes, you hag!"