Once Upon a Myth

[Dipstikk]

Chapter one:
Lost in a Greek myth without a paddle

Nothing here looks familiar. What was once deciduous forest has gradually become a maze of twisted, corkscrew-shaped plants, ferns and vine-ridden trees. Bushes sprang up into the air, as if they were perpetually suspended from some freak trampoline accident. Trees twisted and branches looped in a way that seemed as though they wanted you to ram into them, as if to say, “Hi.” Then, WHAM! “Whoops, pardon my growth.”
If the abundant supply of metaphors didn’t lead you, I was lost.
They would have posters for me. Jeffery Haines, 17-year-old boy lost in the woods in the summer of 1998, eaten by tree branches and unruly foliage.
I didn’t notice the size of the fungi on the log until later, upon which I figured that it must be the BLATANT RISE IN HUMIDITY WITHIN THE IMMEDIATE AREA causing the growth.
Gregory and Maria would be worried sick. I would try going home, but I can’t recognize any telltale signs or even a landmark to guide me.
Squirrels ran round my feet without caution. I didn’t want to spoil their fearlessness, so I watched my step carefully. The tree root was nearly unnoticeable, as my eyes were on those dang rodents. My foot snagged and with a thump, not only did I fall, but also I ruined it for the squirrels, which chirped and dashed off. I was near a bush, too big to see over or around, but the terrain made it look like I was by a lake.
I heard laughter. The sweet sound of a voice. I didn’t care who it was, they could rescue me. Take me home and away from this distorted trap of a forest.
I opened the bush. The figure was on the other side of a lake. No, wait. There were three. They were dark, and almost hidden in the shadows of a willow tree. One moved. No, not a person at all. It was a horse. God, how’d I make that mistake?
Then, to my astonishment, the rest of the figure moved from the brush. A female figure was set in place of where the horse’s head and neck should’ve been. The other two were just like her.
I covered my eyes. They had apparently been bathing, since they had nothing on. But should I have looked away? I mean, nothing like this had ever been seen by man! If I looked, would I be labeled a pervert? Do they even use the word “pervert?” Do they even speak English? I swallowed my pride and uncovered my eyes.
Bad timing, because I heard the sound of a horse’s hooves trotting towards me.
They stopped, as did my heart.
I slowly looked to my right. There she was, standing nearly twelve feet tall. Her skin was deep brown and she wore a tan leather jacket with fringes and a large rimmed hat.
She lowered her eyes. She raised one of her eyebrows like that guy, The Rock, on T.V.
She sort of snorted and leaned down so she could be at eye-level. She looked royally pissed-off.
“Looks like we got ourselves a peepin’ Tom.” She said. Her accent was something like a cowgirl. When she spoke, I could see that her teeth were sharp and pointed. Strange, as I would’ve thought something that was half-horse would be a herbivore.
“Now, y’all know that we can’t have no peeking. Ah’m afraid Ah’m gonna have to lay out a punishment.”
She growled. Again, I would’ve expected a more horse-like reaction.
Wait…Punishment?
Oh, no. I’m in deep whatzit.
“S-so, what’re you going to do?” I stammered. I didn’t want to tick her off more, what with the teeth and the disappointed attitude.
“Well, Ah’s thinkin’ of just beatin’ you to a pulp with this here hammer…”
She held up a huge, rusted war hammer.
“…But, Ah think Ah’ll just eat ya instead.”
My eyes widened, and the right one twitched. Jeffery Haines, a 17 –year-old boy lost in the woods in the summer of 1998, eaten by a Centaur.
Wow. Who saw THAT one coming?