This story answers the August 2003 Challenge: Write a story in 500 words or less in which Hercules and Iolaus meet a big, green turtle who is talking and walking on two legs.
As always, comments and criticisms welcome, and no copyright infringement intended.
The demigod sighed as he glanced at his partner, who was muttering under his breath. Iolaus was normally a whirlwind of nonstop chatter, but when he started to mutter, that was when Hercules knew he was in trouble. It meant his usually cheerful friend was working himself into a major snit, and the breaking point was fast approaching. And then, the poor demigod would be subjected to an unending tirade and would end the day with a raging headache, bearing the burden of a major guilt trip, whether he was at fault or not.
It was only noon and they’d already spent the morning slogging through the rain and mud with no breakfast, fighting off one of Hera’s delightful pets which had given the hunter a good sliming. That on top of Iolaus losing his sword sheath and tearing his pants did not bode well. Hercules wagered it would only take one more small mishap for the hunter to lose it completely.
“And here it is,” the demigod whispered as they came to a small wooden bridge with a very large warning. “Iolaus? Did you see that sign?”
“So?” The hunter turned to glare at his friend.
“Maybe we should go around,” Hercules suggested.
“Are you kidding?” The glare deepened. “There’s an inn just across this bridge with a warm fire and hot food. I’m not walking miles out of the way when we can cross here. And since when have you ever listened to the mandates of the gods, anyway?”
“Just trying to avoid trouble,” the demigod sighed as his friend started across.
“Halt,” came a booming voice. “Who dares to trespass against the mighty Chelonius?”
For a split second, the hunter looked nervous. But that soon switched to weary amusement as a very large, very green, turtle scurried out from under the bridge to block his path.
“None shall pass,” the turtle roared, snapping his jaws and flexing his long claws threateningly as he thumped his rock hard shell. “I am invincible, and all who oppose me will die.”
“Maybe we should just...” Hercules began, but Iolaus silenced him.
“It’s all right, Herc. I got him.”
With a quick flash of the sword, Iolaus swept the turtle’s feet out from under him. He fell heavily to the ground, flailing wildly but unable to flip himself over or get back on his feet.
“Well, are you coming?”
The demigod hurried around the fallen turtle, pausing to give the creature an apologetic shrug.
“He’s hungry,” he offered in explanation.
“Come back here,” the turtle screamed. “Chelonius always triumphs! I’ll bite your legs off.”
When Hercules caught up with his friend, he was relieved that Iolaus was giggling over the comical sight of the hapless turtle, his previous bad mood forgotten as he made a beeline for the inviting inn. So as a thank you, the demigod went back and righted the creature, figuring he owed him at least that much for saving him from the wrath of the golden hunter.
Finis
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