Awakening

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Before I get started, I've gotta warn you guys... It's a weird chapter. And nasty. Grotesque. And so on. Bottom line: It's not pleasant.
~LotP
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In his dreams, he was back at his house. It looked different from when he 'visited' just recently. The monster beanbags were still on the lawn, shrubbery growing around and on them. Wind chimes rang on the porch. There was a light on in the kitchen.

Luke took a cautious step towards the front door, then another. As he neared the porch, though, the beanbags started to shake. They grew in size, until they were life size, yet still harmless yet ugly beanbags. He took another step, and the hydra's head turned to look at him, the usual black marble eyes replaced with eyes glowing red and seething with anger. It hissed at him, and he jumped back in surprise... into the tight grip of the Minotaur. After a second of wiggling in the Minotaur's grip, Luke escaped and bolted into the house, closing the door behind him.

He looked around the house he used to live in. The candles had all burned down to less than stumps. The pictures were cracked and broken, some looking like they'd been thrown across the room. The cuckoo clock that had Hermes instead of a bird was tilted and Hermes darted around it shakily, as if it was about to break off at any point.

He walked around, his heart feeling as if it was made of lead. He made it into the kitchen, and saw literally hundreds containers and baggies full of molded PBJ sandwiches. On the counter was a hoard of Kool-Aid pitchers, all of them full, but looked discolored, and gave off the most repulsive of stenches.

The Medusa beanbag that was usually on the sink was instead in front of it and life size, her back to Luke. She turned to look at him, and he gasped. It was Medusa, with her snake hair, sharpened teeth, and generally serpentine body, but she had the face of his mother, with her broken, clouded eyes.

Those eyes focused on him, and they turned red. She spoke, but it wasn't his mother's voice. It wasn't even the Oracle's voice. It was an inhuman thing that sent shivers down his spine, raised goose bumps on his arms, and made him want to run back out with the Minotaur and Hydra.

"Look who finally decided to come back," the terrible voice said, his mother's face twisting into a scowl, and Medusa's body putting her hands on her hips, taking a disappointed pose. "You just had to go run away and resurrect a Titan. Except you couldn't even get that right. And you couldn't get it right to come back." Medusa walked over to the pantry, and opened it. Out poured several boxed of burnt cookies and PBJ sandwiches. "Look at this mess! Look at what you've done. And this isn't even the worst!"

She walked over to a large cupboard that he doesn't remember from his childhood, and opened it. He was looking at the mountain of boxes, but when he heard the dull thud, he whipped his head to look at what had just fallen, and was horrified. Lying on the ground, face down, was the body of his mother. Medusa turned her over, and Luke almost threw up upon seeing the disfigured, decomposing face of his once beautiful mother.

"You killed her. You lied to her. She believed you. She waited for you, but you never came! And now she's dead! Because of you, you stupid, selfish, useless boy!" the voice shouted, Medusa walking towards him menacingly.

Luke tried to run, tried to bolt, but he couldn't move. He looked down and found that the floor had absorbed his shoes, making him unable to move.

The creature let out a dark chuckle. "Can't run now, can you?" She took another step. "You are going to feel everything she felt. The abandonment. The hopelessness. The betrayal. You are going to die by your own doing."

She was practically on top of him, now, and he could smell the decay of his mother, the mold of the sandwiches, and the mildew of the beanbag that was sat upon the sink for gods-know-how-long. If he hadn't torn his feet from their shoes (not an easy feat, considering they were molded into the floor, and they were high tops) and sprinted away, the stench of vomit would've soon joined.

"Yes," she called after him. "Run away. Run like the coward you are!" And he did.

He ran as far and as fast as his bare feet would take him. When he was out of breath, he leaned against a tree, heaving. He leaned his chin against his chest, and closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths.

There was a rustle in the bushes, and he looked up, opening his eyes. Right in front of him, was Medusa, a large wooden steak in her hands.

"Not quite fast enough," she said, and jammed the steak into his heart.

He gasped as he awoke and shot upwards, pain cutting through his chest and head.

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