One Bright Spot -- The Revisions

12

∞Christal∞

The armory is enormous, five levels of wall to wall weapons; daggers, swords, shields, guns, throwing knives, you name it, they've got it. Being an enjoyer of dangerous and sharp things, I feel like a small child on Christmas morning.

Shelves line each wall and each shelf is neatly crammed with the weapons I've just listed. We are all silent, as if we're afraid that talking will bring about some unfortunate occurrence. This is Kota's mom's collection. No one wants to violate it.

"Everyone grab as much as you possibly can", Kota says, breezing through the group.

The room is the size of a small warehouse. Along with the shelves on the walls, the floor contains row upon row of shelving cases, also full of wonders.

"Fill every available space of your bag with whatever you can. I don't want to run out of weapons while we're there", Kota walks over to a row of shelves, slips his pack off of his shoulder, and unzipped the main pocket. Dropping it at his feet, he shoves his hands into the mass of weapons on the shelf before him.

The rest of us look around uncertainly before going out separate ways. Carmila links arms with me and we walk until our feet decide to stop. They have led us to a shelf of swords. Small swords, large swords, swords of all different lengths, and swords with blades as thick as my wrist are displayed in such a way that it is overwhelming to look at.

Carmila picks up a small item shaped like a pen. "Cool pen", she says, passing it back and forth between her hands a few times before holding it out like a lance and stepping into a fencing position. "En garde", she tells me.

The pen vaguely takes me back to when I'd read the first Percy Jackson book and the pen turned out to be a - "Carmila, don-", I say just as she presses on the button at the top of the pen.

As if in slow motion, I watch little pieces of the pen shift places and eject a blade. Toward my face.

The slow motion ends and I drop to the floor as the blade extends its full length. There is a 'thunk' as the blade settles into place.

I am not sure why, but my arms are covering my head and I am tense, as if my body is waiting for Carmila to drop the sword on me.

She doesn't, so I lift my head cautiously and peek out. Carmila is kneeling beside of me, freaking out. Her eyes are wide and tears are running down her cheeks.

"Oh my gosh! Christal, I am so sorry! I didn't know it was going to do that! I honestly thought it was a pen", Carmila blubbers, apologizing some more.

I take a deep breath, calming my heart. I roll onto my back and sit up, "Carmila, it's okay. I forgive you. "The adrenaline racing through my body causes me to let out a shaky laugh. "I'm just glad I read the Percy Jackson books when I was younger." Through her tears, Carmila gives a small laugh. "Let's put the sword pen back, shall we?"

"Absolutely", she agrees, throwing the deceitful thing away from her, toward the shelf, as if it is on fire. A clanking and crashing sound reverberates throughout the room as it collides with other weapons of its kind.

Carmila and I look at each other. The exhilaration of almost dying causes us to laugh uncontrollably, even when the others looked at us strangely.

***

Later, as I am filling my back pack with an assortment of metallic weapons and shields, Kota calls out, "Five minutes."