Note: I have plans for this OC. Grandiose plans. Expect series featuring him and his past later on down the line if this gets received well.
Who am I?
I didn't really understand what was going on. I woke up next to a burning wreck of a 1975 camaro, and realized I didn't know myself. I mean, I had no idea who I was beyond my own name. And I could barely remember that. I saw a large pine tree, on a hill, in the distance, and I felt like I had to get there. I couldn't explain why. I couldn't really move much, so I clawed my way from the car to the tree. As I reached it, I felt a strange resistance as I tried to go past it, but it only lasted for a second. I felt a weird wetness on my legs. I looked behind me, and saw a long trail of red stretching from the car. I touched my right leg, and it came back covered in red.
"That's my blood. That's my blood. That's a lot of my blood." I said.
I looked up, and saw what looked like sneakers beneath a pair of goat legs before I passed out.
When I woke up, I was in an unfamiliar room, but I guess everywhere is unfamiliar when you've lost your memory. My legs were wrapped in bandages.
"Ah. Our mysterious guest awakes." A voice said. Looking to my right, I saw a man in a wheelchair and tweed jacket.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"Let's just call me Chiron for now. I think the more important question, young man, is who are you?" The man said.
"Chiron? Like the Greek-hero-training centaur?" I asked.
"Yes." The man replied.
"Like I said, who are you?"
"I don't know."
"That's understandable, but-"
"No, sir. You don't understand. When I say 'I don't know' I mean I literally don't know who I am. I think I have amnesia, or something."
"Well. This is interesting. You're not an ordinary mortal, that much we've determined. But you don't seem like a-" He said, under his breath, but I could still hear him somehow.
"Excuse me, sir, but what do you mean by 'ordinary mortal?'"
"Exactly what I said."
"So, there are unordinary mortals?"
"What if I told you that gods actually existed, that they now live in America, and that they have half-human children?"
"You're talking to a kid with zero memory. I think I'd believe just about anything right now."
"This doesn't surprise you?"
"Like I said; zero memory. So, are we talking capital G god, or low levels of divineness, or what?"
"Well, capital G God, that's well outside my sphere. We shan't deal with the metaphysical. The gods I'm talking about are the Greek gods."
"Hence the name of Chiron. So, is that just like, you're the newest Chiron, or are you the Chiron?"
"I am the Chiron, as you put it."
"How do you know I'm not an ordinary person?"
"You crossed the boundary line."
"Alright then. That makes perfect sense."
I'm fairly certain I passed out again, because I didn't hear what Chiron said next.
When I woke up, Chiron was looking down at me. He had apparently fixed his crippled legs, and gotten them replaced with a horse's bottom half, because he towered over me.
"Well, that's some irrefutable proof. Or you put something in the water." I said.
"I assure you, there is nothing in the water."
"So, what happens to me?"
"As I said, you're no mortal, but you're not a demigod, as far as we have been able to determine. No-one here is quite sure what to do about you just yet. I was still debating with the camp director about you."
"So I'm a major source of contention and I've been conscious here for about ten minutes total. New personal best, I'm sure."
"Just…wait for me on the front porch."
I was still waiting two hours later, when a group of about twelve tough, mean-looking kids led by an extremely tough-looking girl walked up to me. The girl put me in a chokehold and dragged me over to what I could only assume were the restrooms.
"Hey, man-hands. This is the guy's restroom, in case you didn't notice." I said as she shoved me into one of the stalls.
She punched me in the gut, turned me around, and tried to shove my head in the toilet.
Time seemed to slow down.
I felt something in my head, like a series of locks turning, doors opening. My mind seemed to shift. I knew exactly what do, and what everyone else in this under-funded bathroom was likely to do.
I slammed the back of my head into the girl's nose, and drove my left knuckle into her right forearm. I kicked her in the stomach, knocking her out of the stall.
I grabbed the door and swung it outwards viscously, jamming the edge against the nose of the kid coming at me from the front, and slamming the frame into the face of the kid approaching from the right.
I punched the nearest one the face.
One of them grabbed me from behind. I ran backwards and slammed the guy holding onto me into the mirror. I banged the back of my head against his face, then grabbed a falling shard of glass. I slid out of the guy's grip, slammed his hand against the wall, and drove the shard through it. I punched him in the face to make sure he stayed out, then pulled the shard from his hand.
I swept the shard up along the face of the nearest kid, and kicked him between his legs.
Someone grabbed me from behind.
I jabbed the glass shard backwards, and was rewarded with a scream.
A girl in front of me tackled me and started punching me in the face. When she hit me the third time, I palm-struck her forearm, and felt the bone crack and break. I shoved her off me.
The first girl, the leader, was up and coming at me now. I was a few steps behind the door. She tried to punch me. I sidestepped, grabbed her arm, and tossed her over my shoulder.
I circled around. I heard voices outside.
The girl got up, and I hit her in the face, right along the jaw. I hit her again, right on her forehead. I punched her in the chest, in the gut, got in two uppercuts to her jaw, then drove my elbow into her throat. I spun around and kicked her, taking her off her feet and sending her into the door.
She knocked the door clean open and landed in a bruised, beaten heap outside. There were several others waiting a few feet from the door. They all looked different, but three of them stood out to me in particular. One was a boy with black hair and green eyes. Standing next to him was what looked like a half-goat kid, with a curly brown hair, acne, and barely noticeable facial hair. The third was a girl with curly blonde hair, a tan complexion, and stormy gray eyes.
I looked down at the shard of glass I still held in my hand. It had slipped in my grip, and I'd cut my fingers. Blood was running down the shard. The blood was red, but there was a strange black tinge about, around the edges of the drops, almost unnoticeable. I turned the shard, and looked at my eyes.
I wasn't sure what color my eyes normally were, but what color they were now startled me.
They were red. Almost bright red. As I looked closer, the red seemed to fade, until my eyes looked like a cross between grey, blue, and green. Hazel, I think, is the proper name for it.
"So, I'm a major source of contention for the guys who run the place, and I just beat the crap out of twelve people. Great start, genius." I whispered to myself.