Cupid's Last Arrow
Paul Ceros
It was the second Saturday in May when Paul discovered the truth. Paul was vacationing with his father and having a pretty good time. He was out on the beach. The fine sand touched his feet; the bright afternoon sun beat down on him. Paul attempted something his therapist taught him. He was trying to ignore the crashing of the waves and the annoying sounds of the gulls and imagine he was in the forest, he always felt calmer in the forest. He looked up at the windows, saw his father, and waved.
His father, Charles, however, was not on vacation he had rented out the strip of beach, the house, even a helicopter with the pilot, for Paul to enjoy. Paul was happy, but also a little sad he couldn't spend more time with his dad. His father was a millionaire who jumpstarted a company called Hermes Hermitage. Half charity, half shipping, Paul had to admit it was a pretty great idea. The only down side was that his father had to supervise almost every major business transaction.
Paul focused again on the forest. The next step was focusing on himself. Paul had medium brown hair, he was tall, and was pretty lean, like his dad. His fair skin and green eyes, however, did not come from his dad, but from a mother he had never met. The story was that his mother left when he was less than four, Paul was now fifteen. Paul didn't buy into it though. He was certain that he would at least remember what she looked like, but there were no photos, no videos, or anything to remember her by. His dad said it was because he threw them out, but Paul knew. His mother left on the day Paul was born. Paul knew because he asked his father if exactly that situation happened and his dad ran upstairs and didn't come out until dinner. He had never seen or heard his father cry, only that one time.
He heard his dad's car leaving. Paul decided that was enough thinking for one day. He ran out to the road just in time to see his dad's silver Bugatti leave a trail of sand and dust behind the car. Paul walked towards the edge of the forest on the cliffs above the beach and was about to enter when his father's butler ran out and stopped him. Paul's father had decided that Paul shouldn't be running around the forest and the butler never wasted an opportunity to yell at him. Paul turned to face the butler and said, "Can't I go out there? Just once? You don't have to tell my dad."
The butler was turning a little red with anger, "How dare you disobey your father and then tell me 'you don't have to tell him'. Insolent child get back inside the house. Your father would be furious if I told him this."
"He would not! You obviously do not know my dad very well. He is not angry if I do things like this. He is angry when staff bothers his son." This was responded to only by more reddening "You just stick to my father to get more money, don't think I don't see it. So back off!"
The butler was so red that it looked funny against the white shirt and black coat he was wearing. What was not funny was that the butler slapped him pretty hard. Paul took off sprinting into the forest. The slap didn't hurt that bad, he just wanted to see if the butler would go into the forest to get him. Paul looked back and saw the butler walking away from the forest. Paul stopped running and could swear the butler was laughing. Paul took the time to look around the forest. A big expanse of green trees dominated the view, but bushes and rocks littered the path too. There were no protruding roots or low branches to trip him up while running. The only thing that Paul liked as much as the forest was running everything blurred as Paul started to run. He smiled and stopped after a few hundred yards. Paul looked back and saw something like a goblin chasing him. Paul looked at the road and stopped right before running into one of the goblins.
"What do you want? Money, I have it. Just leave me alone." Paul said while looking for a way to escape. "Are you a goblin?"
The disgusting goblin in front of him cackled. It was no larger than Paul's shoulders, but was carrying a small knife that looked like it was made of wood. It was dark skinned, but had nasty cuts on its face that ruined an already hideous creature. It had a hunch in his back that showed three blades coming out of his back. Its voice was dry and every word was forced with obvious pain to it. "No, we aren't goblins, we are Kobaloi. We are here to kill you. Don't worry; we will make sure it hurts." It started walking closer. Paul took a few steps back. The Kobaloi laughed a little and the one behind Paul grabbed the collar of his shirt and cut the back of his neck. Paul stepped forward and turned to look at the equally hideous creature. In the distance he saw the butler running up to the Kobaloi.
Within a few seconds the butler was there, but instead of helping he started to transform. He shrunk a few inches and his face grew taught. A huge cut ran up his chest where his clothes used to be. His face was still skinny, but had an air of unhealthiness about it. The butler started to laugh and Paul noticed his voice was high-pitched as well, but not as strained as the first. The three Kobaloi started to converge towards Paul.
Paul took off into the thick trees bordering the path. Every step he took the branches snagged him and hit him as if they wanted Paul to die there. Paul's breath became more strained and he started stumbling. He tried to focus on the forest, but it seemed to make him more tired. Paul eventually tripped and looked behind him to see only the butler following and even then a couple hundred meters away. Paul sat down felt for any injuries and found that his ankle was a little bruised.
All of a sudden, a hand swept down, grabbed Paul, and pulled him up onto a horse. The horse felt soft against his legs and the wind started gusting as the man moved the horse. When Paul looked up he realized that the man was connected to the horse.
"You're a real live centaur! Man, I though you guys were all part of myths." Paul said bewildered.
"Yeah, I guess you didn't really get it with those Kobaloi back there. We are all real, all of Greek mythology never died. Well except during the disco era, dark days, dude, dark days." A slightly gruff voice called back at him. "So, Paul are you ready to meet the man who sent me here to save you?"
"Um, sure. I guess. Do I really have a choice?" Paul asked. Greek mythology, Disco era, Kobaloi? All new to Paul, but he decided not to ask.
"Everyone has a choice." The centaur said seriously.
"Then sure, let me see this guy." Paul said shakily.
