Chapter 1: Parthenian Prelude
Annie stepped out of the bathroom, the sound of the toilet flushing interrupted as she slammed the door shut. It was 1:30 am, and Annie was in Hell. Although many might have disagreed, this had nothing to do with her being in Kansas City, but was in fact a combination of an upcoming physics test, an upset stomach and four hours of sleep followed by school, soccer practice, and something that a kind-hearted and/or diplomatic person might have referred to as "dinner".
This wasn't a good day for Annie.
Her eyes bloodshot and her hair a tangled mess, Annie walked to her room in a manner not usually seen outside a Romero film. Just another fifteen minutes, Annie thought, and I can go to bed. Another... fifteen... But as she turned the door handle and pushed the door open, all thoughts of physics vanished from her head (to be fair, they vacated it around midnight, but Annie was not yet aware of this).
A tall woman was sitting at the foot end of her bed, an owl perched on her shoulder. Wearing a white dress which put Annie in mind of ancient Greece, the woman had a regal bearing and a rather imperious smile on her face. Her hands clapping together in a gesture of delight, she rose and approached Annie, who cowered a bit.
"Ah! You've finally arrived. I was beginning to think you were going to stay in the bathroom all night. Really, Annie, there's a difference between re-heated and re-animated food."
Annie racked her brain to think of a response to the complete stranger who was talking about gastronomy in her room in the middle of the night.
"Guh. I mean... Whu?"
"I assume you mean to ask me what a complete stranger is doing in your room in the middle of the night." The strange woman grinned.
"Actually," lied Annie, "I was thinking about going down to my father's gun cabinet and break out the shotgun. Then I was thinking about blowing some holes in that dress," she continued, no longer lying.
"Ah. I can see this will take some convincing." The owl suddenly took flight as the woman stretched out her arms. Suddenly everything in the room dimmed, except Annie, the woman and the bird. Annie looked around apprehensively. When the woman spoke it was with a voice not quite human.
"I am Pallas Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom."
The room returned to normal. The woman lowered the hands and looked at Annie expectantly.
"Yeah. Cool. Look, I'm just going downstairs for a couple of seconds. I'll be back real soon, promise, bye."
But as Annie turned towards the door she found that damn owl hovering in front of it. Behind her the woman sighed deeply.
"Look, Annie," she said, "I'm not going to let you out until you listen to me, and you're not going to listen to me as long as you think I'm insane."
No shit, lunatic. "Fine. How will you convince me you're a Greek goddess?"
"Your full name is Anne Deborah Renault. You were conceived by your parents April 3rd 1986 at a public restroom in Disneyworld. When you were ten, you had a crush on Pete Michaels after he peed on the principal's brand new Volvo. Your first sexual encounter was with a German foreign exchange student, and if I may quote your thoughts: my God, I've had better sex with my right hand, is he eve-" The woman was abruptly cut off as Annie's fist landed on her chin. She fell to the floor with a yelp.
"My right hand is good for lots of things," Annie sneered. She stretched out her hand to help the woman to her feet. "I believe you're Athena. Don't ask me why, but I do. That doesn't mean I won't shoot you, though, so get talking."
Athena rubbed her cheek, glowering at Annie. "You didn't have to hit me. I am a goddess, you know."
Annie gave a not-too-apologetical shrug. "So if you're a goddess, that means, what? Jesus and the angels and stuff are real too?"
"No, there are just us." Athena looked rather annoyed. "You'd think that a people that basically invented science, medicine, philosophy and democracy might have some clout when it comes to religion, but no! Some guy in a desert gets a vision and it's off to the history books!" She gave her head a shake. "But never mind that. I'm here to give you a mission."
"This better not be about murdering prostitute-"
"No. No no no. Nothing like that. See, I am the goddess of wisdom, which pretty much makes me one of the gods of the human imagination. I am in charge of the children of imagination, the stories. All the stories, from the greatest epic poem to the smallest porn novella."
Athena looked rather proud as she relayed all this. Annie stared at her. I wonder if that includes the official version of my night with Dietrich Tollkirsche...
"It does," said Athena as Annie contemplated going for the shotgun, "and you won't get out of this room until I say so, so don't even think- Hey! That wasn't a nice thing to think, now was it? Yes, every story exists in a fundamentally real way. They are out there, every one, in the minds of men, to be visited by anyone who can get there. When you read a book, you don't just piece together the words to understand the plot, you visit the world of the story that the author has devised. Do you understand?"
Annie shook her head.
"Oh, fine. You really don't need to. You'll see for yourself when you visit them. And that brings me to the reason I'm here." Athena sat down on the bed, hands folded in her lap. "The stories are under attack."
"Under attack? How is that even possible?"
Athena looked grimly at Annie. "We don't know for sure. We do know that... they... started arriving not too long ago. They are like parasites, or perhaps viruses. They affect the stories they land in, weaken them, feed off them, until what's left bears no resemblance to the author's intentions. Left to their own devices they will tear down the boundaries between stories and cast the realm of imagination into utter disrepair."
Despite herself, Annie was fascinated. "Who are these creatures?"
"We call them... Mary Sues!"
Annie blinked. Athena blinked. They blinked simultaneously.
"It's... not a very threatening name, is it?"
"That's one of the many things that make them dangerous. Now listen to me, you really need to know this."
Suddenly, several cold shivers raced up and down Annie's spine. She sat down on the floor, looking up at the Great Goddess sitting next to her stuffed Piglet.
"A Mary Sue is most often a girl or a woman. You might encounter a male Mary Sue, but they will be no match compared to the females. There are visual indications to look for. Waist length hair, highlights, impossible colors are quite usual. The eyes of a Mary Sue often change in color as well. Nearly all of them are pretty. But these signs are not universal. Do not dwell on them, or you might be taken unawares by a brown eyed Sue with short black hair. Yes, a question?"
"What do they do? I mean, how do they weaken the stories?"
"Yes, I was getting to that. You must understand this, because this is how you will know if a woman is a Mary Sue. A Mary Sue can be anything she wants to be. If she wants to be prettier than the other characters, she will be. If she wants to be smarter, or nicer, she will be. But most often the desires of the Sue don't change the Sue herself. If a Sue becomes smarter it is usually because the other characters get dumber. If she's nicer, other characters become assholes and bitches. A Mary Sue will warp the other characters with her mere presence, typically making them act unlike themselves. Two old enemies suddenly become friends, a villain suddenly and uncharacteristically becomes a good guy. In time, you will recognize the effects of a Sue the moment you enter a story."
Annie felt slightly dizzy. "But... what am I supposed to do with them when I find them."
Athena rose, the owl once more perched on her shoulder.
"Kill them. Kill them all."
