II.
Peter wakes up with a gasp. He looks up...and the disappointed face of his history teacher gazes back at him.
Peter tries to offer a sheepish smile in return, but his teacher only shakes his head.
"I'll ask you again, as you were kindly paying close attention the first time. Which Greek goddess represents wisdom and battle strategy?"
Peter sighs. His dyslexia and ADHD made it hard for him to study. But there is something familiar...A wisp of memory, something about a wise girl, grey eyes and blonde hair...daughter of...And then it was gone. Like a dream, the thought vanishes and Peter still doesn't know the answer.
"Don't know? Well then, Johnson, you'd better study. The test is tomorrow, don't forget." The teacher turns away and walks back to the board.
"Psst!" Someone whispers, and Peter turns to see who it is. His best friend Silenos smiles back at him warmly, and mouths, "It's okay, you'll -" Suddenly the teacher walks by again, and Silenos quickly sits back on his chair properly. As soon as the teacher passes, Silenos leans forwards again and finishes, "-do fine!"
Peter grins, and reclines in his chair, facing forward. He tries to listen to the lesson, but all he can think of is blonde hair, grey eyes, and a warm feeling in his heart whenever he thinks of whoever those features could belong to.
Soon the bell rings, and the room suddenly fills with noise. Silenos hobbles over towards Peter on his crutches, and Peter slows down a little for his friend to catch up.
They make small talk on their walk home, but Peter doesn't really pay attention because all he can think of it blonde hair and grey eyes. When Peter looks at his friend Silenos again, there is another faint wisp of memory. Something about Silenos is familiar, like the way he walks on crutches or the way he can sprint down the hallway to the lunchroom when it's enchilada day.
And then suddenly there is a rustling beside them, and a huge black shadow leaps over the two and land right next to them, on the sidewalk. Peter steps back, and instinctively reaches into his pocket. But there is nothing there, and he curses as the black shadow lunges at him.
Silenos cries out as Peter is knocked over by the creature. Offhandedly, Peter wonders if Silenos was trying to imitate a goat, because his cry sounded awfully like a bleat.
But the giant creature is still on top of him, and, closer now, Peter can see that the creature is a large dog. Its eyes are like hot coals, burning with an eerie glow. Hellhound, he thinks, but then frowns because he has never heard of that word before.
Peter struggles and tries to throw the dog off of him, but to no avail. The hound slowly lowers its massive head, opening its jaws. Peter can smell its acrid breath, can feel the saliva dripping onto his chest. When he closes his eyes, he can even imagine it sinking its teeth into his soft throat.
And through all this, Peter knows he can do nothing. Peter's arms are pinned, and he does not have the strength to fight the beast. Silenos had run off, presumably to find help. But Peter does not want any help. He does not want anyone to see him in this vulnerable, weak position. He would rather die...
But Peter does not want to die, and this thought gives him renewed hope. The hellhound's jaws are almost completely around his throat now, and it slowly bites down, savoring the moment of fear and helplessness in its prey.
Peter does not hesitate. With a cry of rage towards his own weakness, he tears his arm away from under the beast. The beast instinctively bites down, and Peter groans as he feels the sharp points of the hound's teeth sink into his flesh.
Through the pain, Peter manages to grab the hellhound's foreleg, and pulls, hard. The hound whines in pain, and Peter can smell burning. But as the monster flinches backwards, it drags its teeth across Peter's wounded throat, and Peter's vision is blinded by white hot pain.
And suddenly there is shouting in the distance and the dog's weight on his chest suddenly disappears and suddenly he is being lifted by a pair of strong arms. He can hear frantic bleating and the drip, drip, drip of blood at his throat continues to bleed.
And then the darkness comes, whisking him away. Peter closes his eyes and relaxes, and begins to dream.