A Trol

Emily. As we raced out of the room and towards the sound of battle, I couldn't help but think that this was so not how I expected my night to go. One minute I'm worrying about boys and high school drama, the next I'm running toward a fight with some kind of supernatural army. Talk about a glow-up. We rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. The grand entrance hall of the manor was a scene of utter chaos. Werewolves in various stages of shift were locked in combat with a group of rough-looking individuals who could only be the Rogue Alliance. And in the center of it all, towering over everyone, was... a troll. An honest-to-goodness, right-out-of-a-fantasy-novel troll. It was at least fifteen feet tall, with mottled green skin and a face that looked like it had been carved out of a particularly ugly boulder. "Holy Shrek on steroids," I breathed, my eyes wide. "Emily, focus," my mom hissed, her hands already glowing with magical energy. "Remember your training." Right. Training. Because le