Instant Hero: Just Add Water
This is the tale of
MARLIN MASON
HIS SIBLINGS
A VIOLINIST
AND AN ARROGANT GIT WITH WINGS.
ENJOY THE RIDE.
AN: To those of you who have read this story before, you will of course notice that this is an edited version. It is significantly different from the original one, in ways I will leave as surprises. I decided to change this story because I felt it could be much better with the skills I have now which I didn't have when I started it, and the chapters are chopped up into little bite-sized portions. I hope it's an improvement!
Chapter One: I Decide Murphy Hates Me
Take a little dander down Long Island, and you'll probably see a peaceful strawberry farm down a beautiful valley.
Or, at least, that's what you'll see.
I saw a satyr with ginger hair like copper wires bounding up a hill, hooves going clickety CLACK in time with my confused heart beats.
"So…this place…is for…"
"People like you, as such," the satyr replied, with pride. His chestnut eyes were filled with a triumph I didn't understand.
"You mean people who think they can see barnyard animals with human bodies on top?"
"Bla-a-a-a-a-a!" the satyr bleated angrily, scowling at me scarily, which only confirmed my suspicions that he was a crazy psycho. "I'm not a barnyard animal with a human body! I'm not a barnyard animal or a human either! Get your facts right!"
"Fine, jeez!" I said.
"And you don't think you can see me. You can see me."
"Did you put magic mushrooms in my cheeseburger?" I asked suspiciously.
"NO!" he barked, stamping his hoof on a rock, making a deafening crack! that rippled throughout the valley.
I swam through the silence, and drowned.
I suppose you want to know just who the heck I am. And I suppose I'll just tell you, because both ways I know and you know you're gonna make my life hell. People who walk across my path tend to. Heck, they like to ruin my day. Especially the nosy types like you.
My name is Marlin Mason, professional loser.
I have long wavy auburn hair which I suppose is unnatural for guys like me, since it makes me look like a girl. I know that because I look at myself in the mirror everyday, and say to myself, "Please, God. Why."
My least favourite feature is my eyes. They're two huge green things that stick out like mutant caterpillars. If you gouged them out and stuck them on a wall, I bet they'd glow in the dark too. Hell, I can see it now; the all new ultimate flashlight to rule them all. Me.
I wear casual things. Tee-shirts, overalls, coats, sneakers. Simple. I get out and about more often than your average kid, for the reason that buildings suck ass. I don't know why I think like that, it's just always been a fixture in my mind that I have to get very, very far away from wherever I am, or get my gardening mitts on and dig up some soil with a blunt, no nonsense shovel. And kill logs with mah Über-chopzorz axin' skillz.
It's amusing, and I don't know why.
Is it just me, or do I ever have any idea about anything I ever do?
For example….
I have no idea what started this hare-brained wild goose chase to Long Island. Maybe it was because I met this goat – I mean, satyr – called Murphy at my School for Total Nutjobs who told me I was no ordinary mortal. Maybe it was because a bunch of weird stuff worthy of the X-Files had followed me around all my life, and this crazy explanation had a crumb of sense in it. Maybe it was because I'd never known who my real mother was, except what I knew from my father, whose emotional cliffs tended to crumble like the walls of Troy whenever I asked him about her.
Maybe it was because the Olympian gods are still alive and kicking and are just as irritable as they were three thousand years ago.
It might be just that.
"Well then, hurry up. We're almost there." Murphy ordered, arms crossed as he reached the top of the hill.
"Almost where?" I asked, panting. "How huge is this hill, anyway?"
"Quit complaining, you."
"Why are you always nasty to me?"
"I'm not being nasty to you; I'm just stating simple fact."
"You are being nasty to me! You're barking and ordering and bleating and other-ing and – aack!" Murphy grabbed me by the collar of my tee-shirt, brow twisted into an irate ripple.
"Listen here, you!"
"I am listening!"
"Good!" He released me and shoved me back, sighing and muttering to himself.
I stared at him, scowling.
"What was that for?"
"To make sure you were listening."
"No, I meant the shoving thing."
"To make sure you were listening." He repeated in a bored tone.
"But I am listening!" I protested. "And just what am I supposed to be listening to, anyway?"
"The music, dumbass!"
"Wha-"
Indeed, there was a faint jingle in the air; a merry, floaty tune that I figured was being played by a wind instrument; panpipes, perhaps?
"Yes!" Murphy cried happily. "They know we're here! C'mon!"
"Uh-"
Just as he made for my arm, I caught a quick glimpse of a huge pine tree behind me, bristling with healthy green needles; I could've sworn I saw a flash of gold on its bough, and a baby dragon pacing around the tree's base excitably.
My eyes widened.
"Are you sure you didn't put magic mushrooms in my-"
"SHUT UP!"
-
AN: I hope to update this story daily (or at least very frequently) so please keep me on my toes with much needed criticism. Toodles! XD
