Mistake
I was running through a maze of flaming corridors towards the door, trying to drown out the sounds of people screaming for me to help them. I couldn't, I had to get out. I had to warn my family of the coming danger, even if it meant killing dozens of people trapped in the land of no return, the Underworld, in the fields of punishment.
I woke in a cold sweat, I felt like I was falling a thousand feet. I screamed, even though I regretted it as soon as it came out of my mouth. Patricia had warned me that if I screamed one more time and woke up all the rest of the kids in the orphanage, I would sleep in the shed for a month of punishment. Punishment and rats, and moldy walls, and cold stone floors. I guess I should explain who I am. My name is Timothy Welker. I'm 11 years old and I have been an orphan since I was 7. My mother sat me down on the couch a while back and told me that I was bothering her career again, so I was going to have to leave for a while. She told me it would only be for a few months, but it was never as short as she said. She would disappear for a year at a time, and no one would know where she was. She wouldn't tell me where she was going, and she wouldn't tell my care-taker where she was going, she just…left.
Patricia came barreling in the room like a mad woman after about a minute, and I could hear the wails of the little children calling for her. She slapped me in the face, "What are you doing!" She asked me. "I'm sorry, I- I just… had a bad dream." Came my reply. "That's the third 'bad dream' you have had this week, you are causing much disturbance among my household! Out to the shed, now! Before I have to call Johnny and have him throw you out!" "Ye-yes ma'am." I ran as fast as I could down the stairs without falling and down towards the shed. I was almost to the bottom of the last staircase when I collided with a tall dark figure. "Oh, oh I'm sorry!" I said, hoping against hope that it wasn't Johnny. "Quite alright, quite alright," he said, "You wouldn't happen to know where a Timothy is, would you lad?" "Oh, um, I am sir. I'm Timothy Welker." "Well then, I believe it's time for me to have a little chat with you. Of course we will have to go back outside someone secret, so no one hears us." I thought it was a strange request, but what better thing did I have to do? "Okay then, let's go. I know just the place. I led him under a large weeping willow tree and under a fat bush, into my secret hideout. "This will serve very well," said the man. "Now Timothy, have you ever heard of the greek gods?" "Oh yes, I love to read the myths about them. Why do you ask? And who are you?"
"Oh, my!" He exclaimed. "Where are my manners? My name is Greg. Now back onto the main subject. The greek gods. They are actually quite real, not 'myths', as you like to call them. They contr-." He was cut off by a loud voice and several ear splitting bangs. They didn't understand it at first, but Timothy would only realize when they were safely past the camp boundery line much later, that he did know what the screeching, blood chilling voice had said: "COME TO ME, AND I WILL KILL YOU QUICKLY!" Timothy heard a bleat, like a goat, and he didn't pay any attention to it. What he was paying attention to was three creatures circling round the shed where he was supposed to be, tearing I to shreds. He heard another bleat and he felt a hard tug on his arm. Greg was almost ripping his arm off trying to pull him away. "Come on!" He pleaded to Timothy, but he was frozen in fear. Greg finally managed to pull him away as the things turned , and their eyes were right on him. They started coming nearer.
