Crown Quest: A Beatles Adventure

Chapter Two

    Where should he start? Where should he go? George was very confused about the whole thing as he walked back to his house.

    The walk home involved cutting through the woods on a small trail that was invested with black snakes. George didn't enjoy the reptiles, and they didn't enjoy him.

    Today, however, they were hurriedly slithering toward him in a frantic fashion. For a moment, he thought they were charging him, finally having enough of his invading on their territory. He let out a yelp and jumped out of there way.

    The snakes kept slithering, not even acknowledging him standing off to the side, clinging to a tree. They appeared to be fleeing from something . . .

    George looked in the direction they had come from and saw a dark-haired man around his age running with a sheepdog at his side. George's eyebrows knitted together. He had never seen that guy or the dog in his life.

    "Run!" the man cried, flailing his arms. The dog was barking as if its life depended on it, and it might have.

    "Run from what?" George asked as the man ran by him. George managed to snag his arm and pull him to a stop. "What are you running from?"

    "There's . . . all kinds of . . . things chasing me and I have . . . no idea where they . . . came from," the man said breathlessly, glancing behind him, hazel eyes full of panic.

    George looked back and saw five absolutely hideous creatures charging toward them. They were short and had a greenish complexion, their dark hair pulled back into ponytails. They were hardly clothed, wearing just loincloths, carrying axes and clubs.

    "What the heck are those?"

    "I think they're trolls," the man replied. He looked as if he wanted to run again, but stopped, face contorting into a strange expression. "I-I'm getting the weirdest feeling." He started twitching.

    "Are you all righ — " George began, but was interrupted by a burning feeling in his stomach. It felt like really bad gas. He suddenly buckled over, feeling his back stretching and his muscles expanding. Pain seared through his body and he let out a scream.

    Beside him, the man was changing as well, developing a blue color, his skin looking slick and much like that of the black snakes that had slithered away. George watched in horror as the back of the man's shirt ripped, giving way to wings. Wait. Wings?

    George looked down at his arms and saw that they were clad with purple scales and that his fingers now had claws instead of fingernails. Seeing the rapidly nearing trolls in his new form filled him with rage and it was almost an instinct that made him breathe fire at them.

    The trolls screamed in pain, but didn't back down, smacking George's foot with their clubs. One stabbed his big toe with an axe, sending a flare of pain up his leg.

    The man's sheepdog was right in the middle of the chaos, barking and growling fiercely, jumping on them, ripping at their clothes.

    The dark-haired man grabbed one of the surviving trolls with his huge claws and crushed him before spiking him off a tree. George stomped on one like he was a bug, narrowly missing the sheepdog, who was chomping on the troll's foot.

    A deadly silence enveloped the forest, leaving George, the man, and the sheepdog still tensed for battle. After a few moments, George felt himself becoming smaller and losing his wings and claws. The man did the same.

    "Uh . . . " the man said, looking around at the dead trolls with large eyes. "What just happened?"

    "I think we became giant snakes," George said flatly.