The blog Terrible Minds is doing a flash fiction contest this week about that I wanted to enter. I reccommend that you all enter it too. The due date for it is next Friday by noon. I choose to pick two mythical creatures having a battle. This was really fun to construct, and I hope you all enjoy it too. 🙂
Centaurs vs. Amazons
An arrow blasts from a centaur’s bow into a tall blond Amazonian woman on the other side of the battlefield. A face of disgust and anger immediately appears on her face. Her teeth start to show as she looks across the field at the centaurs.
“It is quite easy to tell how weak a being is,” she said as she pulled the arrow from her arm, twitching as the arrow revealed a poke mark in her arm, “Especially when they bring no women of their own to the battlefield.” The Amazon women all looked across the field, and noticed that their leader was indeed correct. The centaurs did not bring their women to this battle.
On the other side of the battle, the leader of the centaurs arches his bow in the direction of the Amazon tribe, and he yells at the tops of his lungs so all her army can here, “Only the consciousness of human would be so stupid to construct a whole band of women to fight us.” With that, all the centaurs let out a bellow of laughter, “How stupid these women are.”
Arrows flew across the battlefield. What was this whole war about? Apparently, the women had raided the village of centaurs, and stolen all the goods of pomegranates and silk. Everyone across the land, on Mount Olympus, the mermaids, and even the elves had been warning all the nearby villages that the Amazon women were up to their no good tricks again. All those women ever wanted was more, more, and more.
The strange thing about these wars is they were all merely focused on the Amazon’s defending their own desire for luxury. You see, the Amazonian women loved to lie on beds of silk and eat fruits of pomegranate whenever they could. During this time, they forced their male slaves, whom they captured in battle, to perform long two or three hour massages on them. When the women were not raiding the villages for pomegranate and silk, they usually were stealing all of the wine. This was how they kept their male slaves docile. They used them for all sorts of insidious purposes, and rumor had it that when their male servants asked for water to drink, they simply gave them more and more wine. All who knew the Amazonian women knew they controlled their male servants with wine. It made them easier to control, one of Amazons had said once.
The centaurs did not like this stealing aspect of these disgraceful women. These Amazon women with their long beautiful blonde hair, sky-high legs, strength of horses, and healthy, endowed chests should not be allowed to take everything. Even though the Amazon women were mostly covered in dirt all the time, there was an air to them that made many wonder why they had to scavenger for so many resources. Many of the other villages around the area had started to call them “the gang of pigs”.
How did they come into the village of the centaurs and were able to steal all these goods? They didn’t even have to come in and raid the place; they simply cleaned up one of the most beautiful Amazons, walked over to the gates of the centaur village, and asked how the day was going.
When the most gorgeous of all the Amazons reached the gate, she giggled, covered her long blond hair over her face, and said, “How are you doing today, you cute little man?”
The centaur guard gulped. She was wearing a long, elegant, civilized silk dress, and there wasn’t a speck of dirt on her. When an Amazon women is dressed up, she looked more like a princess than a savage. He stood up a little more when she said he was cute, and the fact she referred to him as a man was enough to startle him.
“I am doing good, me lady,” replied the centaur.
“Oh wow,” the seductive Amazon women said as she put her hands on the human belly of the centaur, “You have a wonderful stomach. I love how you centaurs never wear shirts.”
“Thank you,” the centaur mumbled. He liked her touching him, and he even dropped the spear in his hands to touch her back. He put his arms around her waist. She leaned in to kiss him and he deeply kissed her back. All men, in general, had trouble saying no to an Amazon women. They mighty power and sheer beauty intimidated them. Their independence, wit, and glorious looks became intoxicating, a foreign feeling in a familiar land of dependent women. All men wanted an Amazonian woman to see something in them.
All it took was one centaur and one Amazonian woman to raid the centaurs’ entire village for every sheath of silk, bottle of wine, and ever last pomegranate. That intoxicated centaur guard simply felt for what was before him. He listened to the woman. He did what she wanted him to do. It was never too much harder than that. Once all the centaur wives learned what the Amazonian women had done to their village, they were furious, and they sent out all the men to fight them.
So the centaur men simply fought the women with every arrow they had in their sacks, and once they were out of arrows, and the Amazon women looked at them from beyond the hill, they all began to blow kisses to the centaur men. The men stopped for a second, watching the tall, blond women with skin bearing outfits that looked like undergarments waves and blowing kisses to them. The Amazon women knew the centaurs were out of arrow. And with that, they simply ran away with laughter, sheaths of silk, bottles of wine, and every last pomegranate in their hands.
“What are we going to do now?” one of the centaurs asked as they watched their enemy disappear from the horizon, “Our wives are going to be made that we didn’t retrieve the goods.”
“Yes, they are,” said the leader, “but we did what our wives told us to do, and they will be happy with just that.” The centaur men all agreed and went back to their wives. The leader was very right, they were just happy with that.