Episode 1 | The Champion of Artemis, Part 1

There were times when she wished everything was just a nightmare.

It would make things less painful, an assurance even, that no matter how bad things were or appeared to be, she only needed to suddenly wake up, and discover that everything was just the way it was. She would probably shrug off the horrid images, forget about it completely, and continue her daily morning routine. Just like a normal kid.

"Here we are, people! It's the Gold Medal match in the Olympic women's individual competition, and we are now in the final moment of our competitors from all over the world."

How she wished that were true: the nightmares…and the normalcy.

"People are clamoring, screaming, making noise for their favorite. Who's your favorite so far, Jerry?"

"Dianne Hunt from New York, USA."

"You're not kidding. She is a fave from all over the world!"

The commentator chuckled. "Archery fans all over the world, even those who are not fans of this long-range sports, adore Dianne Hunt. Imagine a 15-year old, 10th Grader from New York, doing miracles in every archery event she went to?"

"Ah! There she is! The wonder of Olympic Games, the 'Champion of Artemis', Dianne Hunt!"

The huge stadium began to shake within the roar of the crowds as a five feet four-inch girl walked out of the waiting entrance with the other participants in tow. Her long dark brown hair was tied in a tight ponytail with the end braided to keep them away from her eyes. Her red, white, and gold-designed tracksuit jacket with the name "D. Hunt" at the back covered just her shoulders, letting it flap against the wind as she walked into the field. She wore the same designed collared shirt with a red white pleated skirt and white shoes. Black tinted glasses covered her infamous hawk eyes.

She sported a calm smile as she acknowledged the people that screamed her name, keeping her hands to her sides as she walked in a purposive, confident stride while her fellows waved at them with a grin on their faces. Dianne walked up to the waiting line, leaving her team behind to practice at the target range.

"Hey, Hunt," one of her fellow participants she never bothered to ask the name called her attention. They had to shout so they could hear each other above the cheers and yells of the audience.

Dianne turned with a smile on her face. The one who called out was a woman in her twenties with a lively aura and blonde hair.

The woman tilted her head towards the target range. "Aren't you going to warm up? Your fans might want to see your warm-up."

The brunette let out a chuckle. "I'm not good at fanservice, is all."

Dianne left them and went to the waiting line as the announcer guided the professional and amateur participants on what they should do and where they should go. She approached her trainer, Chelsea, who was standing beyond the barricade between the crowd and the players.

"Are you okay?" Chelsea asked when the 15-year old girl reached her.

Dianne just smiled at her and nodded, sneaking glances at the audience. "Are they not here yet?"

Chelsea shook her head. "Last time I heard they were already boarding the plane. Don't worry about them, they might want to surprise you."

Dianne nodded slowly before she proceeded to listen to Chelsea's final instructions.

"Should I really use these?" she asked, feeling incredulous as her team assisted her in wearing the accessories for her game.

The guard wrapped around her dominant right forearm, just below the bend of her elbow. Another wrapped around the right side of her chest. She even had to put finger tapes and hand protection at the crook of her thumb and forefinger. Those were accessories permitted in competitions like Olympic Games but it never occurred to her that she needed one.

"Just for a show," Chelsea answered. "You don't need another news about you being a cocky, little girl who cat-walked through the tournament field without 'proper garments'," she made an air quote twice, "if I got their words correctly."

Dianne couldn't help but laugh at Chelsea's actions and words. She stopped laughing when she saw Chelsea's hand outstretched towards her. When she looked at the older woman, her trainer gestured at her glasses with her head.

She sighed and pulled her sunglasses with her eyes closed, Chelsea snatching it before she could change her mind. Dianne slowly blinked her amber eyes open and raised them towards the audience.

She always thought normality, for some people including Chelsea, was something the majority does or have. If you have black or brown or even blue eyes, you are normal. If you are someone with a rare trait, you might be…considered one of the "abnormal" kinds.

Dianne stared at the audience as black creatures crowded all over them. Some were biting the human's head with their sharp canine teeth; others were clinging to them. Her amber eyes glinted under the sun as the sight overwhelmed her and rendered her motionless.

"Hunt."

The said girl flinched and turned to one of the staff of the event. The latter was signaling for her to get ready. Dianne nodded and looked at her trainer for a moment, who nodded as an encouragement. There were no words exchanged, no instructions made; and there she went, with her bow on her hand and a quiver of arrows on her shoulder, like a warrior on a battlefield.

Dianne positioned seventy feet away from the target range, figuring she would go first. The woman who called her out a while ago looked at her.

"Good luck," she said with a small smile.

Dianne gave her a smile and responded in the same professional tone of voice, "Likewise."

The blast signaling for her to start went off twice and Dianne reached for her bow. Being in the front of a tournament range, she felt like she was in a different world. A switch in her mind turned off whenever she stepped on the platform. At first, there were buzzing noises, cheering squads yelling her name for the encouragement she didn't need more than comfort before everything becomes dull…and silent.