Weird dreams kind of suck

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Hey guys just a quick note, I'm not the one who is going to describe how I died. Magnus has valiantly stepped up to narrate that part. Just so you know, I died, it was not fun, it hurt a lot. But in my defense, I was not expecting to remember it.

The sound of the baseball bat in my hand dropping with a thud to the ground still haunts me a bit. I was about to close my eyes, thinking I would never open them again. The last thing that I saw was my attackers boots, running away at the sound of sirens. I thought I heard my brother's voice, but that was impossible, I had made sure he was out of the house.

Even weirder, I heard a horse neigh. At the time, I was really confused, after all, a bullet did just fly into my brain and scramble a few things up. Personally, I didn't think it would take that long to die, I also didn't think that when I would finally close my eyes, I would start to dream.

I always have weird dreams, but this one took the prize. I was watching a scene unfold. It was in a huge hall, it kind of looked like a throne room, especially since there was twelve huge, specifically decorated thrones creates a U shape.

I looked up and swiveled around. The ceiling seemed to be miles away, a dome with the appearance of the sky on it. Angry thunder storm clouds loomed above me, the thunder and lightning sending chills down my spine. The doors were shut and how great that they were, It helped the screaming voices echo loudly enough to rip out my ear drums.

12 deities were in the room. 6 women and 6 men. All huge, like 20 feet tall give or take. I felt like Jack in the giant's lair. And no not the sword Jack since I know he will most likely be reading this. Jack and the beanstalk, just for clarafication. Though from what I've told he's been hilt to nose with quite a few giants.

They were all bickering and hollering at each other like a family. Which was weird because none of them resembled each other. Like at all. Yet I got the feeling that this was a family scwabble. The yelling seemed focused on one particular person.

A middle-aged man with an athletic figure with salt and pepper hair hair, intelligent eyes, elfish features, and a sly grin took the brute of it all, he looked like he wanted to shrink all the way back into the chair he was seated on. His face was in a grimace, messing up his elfish features. He seemed familiar but I wasn't sure how. I did know one thing, he screwed up bad. I wanted to move closer and get a better look at his winged helmet and serpent staff, but I was stuck in one place.

My back was turned away from the voice that hollered, "ENOUGH!" I jumped a little and turned to see a very tall, muscular and imposing dude with long black shoulder-length hair with a gray-and-black neatly trimmed beard. He looked furious, I was afraid his head would pop off his shoulders. He swelled bright red in is fine tailored suit, his electric blue eyes flying with sparks. Everyone obliged except for one person. He looked like the meanest motorcycle rider I have ever seen.

Anyways, the guy that dared to continued to speak he had an assortment of weapons strapped on his person and his throne. He wore black jeans, combat boots, a red muscle shirt and tinted red shades. He looked handsome, but his cruel and brutal smile ruined the image, not to mention his black hair was in an oily crew cut. He blatantly ignored the order and yelled at the man with the winged hat, just a few chairs down. "You really are the DUMBEST out of all of us that is INCLUDING Poseidon!"

A man in a Bahama t shirt, sandals, and khaki shorts stood up from his fisherman chair throne, his trident tingling with energy. His sea green eyes were furious, his smile lines on his tan face were gone. Poseidon aimed and shot a powerful blast of water from his trident. Smiling smugly when it hit the motorcycle dude's face.

He whipped around to face him, sopping wet, reaching for the nearest machine gun strapped on his throne. "Why you little--" the man started, making sure it was loaded. It then promptly flew out of his hands.

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