Author's Note: Okay, this my weird story set in a fantasy-type world. It's pretty rough and I'd like to improve this chapter and be able to write more chapters which are better, so please review it. The title is a work in progress and will most likely be changed once I think of something better.

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CHAPTER ONE

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It was the length of 20 horses. The spears bounced uselessly of the glimmering black scales of the dragon as it ran a man though with its ivory horns. Aithne wasn't entirely sure why she had stayed, why she wasn't running like most people who weren't part of the village's small militia.
Oh wait, Aithne remembered why she had stayed. she played the tape in her mind again, the one where she perched on a crumbling wall and fired the crossbow, hitting the dragon right between the eyes.
Unfortunately that time was not now. Now was a burning village. Now was puddles of crimson blood spilling from mangled bodies. Now was the time when the fact that she had never once hit a target with the crossbow came back to her; Aithne cursed under her breath at the memory of the untouched bulls eyes. Now was a dragon killing a man hopelessly flailing with a sword. Now was the dragon looking at her.
It's beady golden eyes focused on her. It took off, flying swiftly towards Aithne. What do you do when there's a dragon flying full speed at you? Shoot it? Chop it up? Aithne had seen that in her head, in great detail, many times. But it was somehow rather different actually having it happen. So what would you do? Precisely what Aithne did. Scream and run like hell.
"This is all very surreal," thought Aithne. "I wonder when my life will begin flashing before my eyes?"
Dreadfully that was not the classic element that would happen to her.
Aithne felt her foot catch on something, and in an instant she was in the air. For a brief moment she hovered there, a foot or so off the ground. Drily she observed a small, white daisy. And then Aithne fell hared to the dirt. She rolled over in time to see the great black wyrm bearing down on her. It was so close she could smell the charred flesh on it's breath. It's mouth opened slightly, revealing thousands of razor-sharp, bloodstained teeth.
Aithne felt the crossbow still her hand.
"Well, this is it," she muttered. "I'm going to die. So I can either go out whimpering on the ground, or I can go out with a bang."
Having always held a penchant for the dramatic, Aithne chose the later.
Aithne raised the crossbow, pointing it in the general direction of the incoming dragon. She shut her eyes and pulled the trigger.
At the same moment the dragoon opened its mouth wider. The bolt from the cross bow sailed though, past the thousands of teeth that could have been the before picture in a tooth whitening commercial.
All eyes were on the dragon as the bolt went down its throat and lodged itself in the heart.
For a single second, that could have just as easily been an eternity, the dragon stiffened, all of its limbs sticking straight out.
At this point you could have heard a pin drop, and quite frankly the great black wyrm was much larger than a pin. It fell to the ground a few feet in front of Aithne with a resounding crash.
As the dust settled, it glared at her with a look of pure venom. Then its yellow eyes shut for a final time.
Aithne released the breath she had unconsciously been holding. She stood, eyes fixed on the corpse of the dragon. Aithne reached out, and ran her fingers down the smooth facial scales.
She turned to the crowd. And they were a crowd, and it was Aithne's performance.
She slung the crossbow over her shoulder. Aithne threw her other fist in the air and leaped, yelling "I am so badass!"