Indiana Jones wiped the sweat from his brow and threw off the covers. He'd had a strange dream. As a matter of fact, he wasn't sure if it was a dream or not. Whatever it was, it was inexplicable, but he was sure it wouldn't happen again. He shook his head and got out of bed.
He dressed quickly and headed down to the museum lobby, where his friend Marcus Brody was working. When Brody looked up, he sounded concerned. "Indy, is something the matter? You look pale."
"Oh it's nothing," Indy replied. "It was really warm last night."
"Okay, then," Brody said hesitantly. "Just holler if you need me."
Indy walked out of the lobby, thinking about why he had that strange dream. It had just popped into his head. He had no idea what he was dreaming before that, and he didn't know whether he was talking in his sleep. All he knew was that he was dreaming about something called the Happy Horse. It seemed innocent enough, but little did he know that it would be the worst thing he had ever encountered…
