For what it's worth, I never saw her coming. But you can't really blame me. Amazon Goddesses (for once in my life) were the furthest thing from my mind, as I was in a forest of rabbits. Not bunnies, mind you. Rabbits. Like, rhymes-with-rabid-so-it-must-be-bad rabbit. Kinda Steven King-esque, not that I'd know, I never actually read the books, but the red eyes looked like something off of one of his book covers, so it fits. It's also quite possible that you lose yourself in my train of thought. This is your problem, don't bother me with it. Please.
Anyway, the forest of rabbits was exactly what it sounds like. A large open space, with a bit of grass growing, but everywhere you looked, there was soft fur, sharp teeth, and beady eyes that glowed creepily in the low light. As I'll state often, this isn't too odd. Just creepy.
Anyway, there really was a forest of rabbits. No trees, everywhere you look, rabbits. Then the Amazon Goddess. Now that was a surprise. In all of these adventures, I'd never had a girl show up. At least not a good looking one.
At this point, one of my two heads took over, and it wasn't the one with two eyes.
I noticed her every move, the beauty and grace in the leaps she took, felling rabbits left and right with her mighty sword.
Okay, this is retarded. I have tons of scary adventures, and I choose to tell you about the one with rabbits in it?
Start over.
I didn't get out much as a kid. Not that I never had the chance, I really did. Just wasn't interested. I lived with both parents, nothing abnormal, everything good, coasting through high school. Hit college, and it went downhill. Did the freshman alcoholic thing. Got plastered to the point where nothing made sense quite a few times. That's a good point to be at. I miss it. Really do.
Then one night, I just kept pounding them down. Beers and coffee. So I was a very wide awake drunk. I started noticing things. Things like the pain of a fresh wound being streched. You know, that feeling when you have road rash, and you have to bend your elbow, but it feels like a hot poker is now residing in the wound? Yeah, that. Only there wasn't any such wound on my back. Ever. Never had one. But it was there, every time I raised my arm. Creepy non-existant wounds, it would turn out, weren't going to be anywhere near the top of my list of problems anytime soon.
Anyway, after that, I became what I liked to call hypersensitive. Basically, I could feel everything. The air molecules. Close my eyes and walk, drunk, through that messy apartment, and not hit a thing. Now that's a useful freakshow.