I approached the deserted house at the end of the road, I saw nothing unusual. It was what I heard. There were absurd knocking sounds creaks and groans of wood. As I came within about twenty feet of the house, I decided that it might be smarter to go around the back. While I skirted the property, I noticed something else, the strong acrid smell of smoke combined with obvious fire damage in the form of long, black streaks stained into the paint, also, the outer walls had dents and splinters that made it look like several cannons had gone off inside. Strangely enough, despite the damage, the structure appeared relatively sturdy and there was certainly no danger of it collapsing. Then, suddenly, a roar like nothing I ever heard pierced the air. It was most certainly not human, but it didn’t sound like any animal I knew either. I ducked behind a bush and waited an agonizing two minutes before I dared show my face again.
It was then that I realized that the back door was just as strongly built as the front. At a closer glance I saw that it even seemed to have steel plating. A series of grunts, whimpers, and light whines caused me to shrink back away from the ominous metal vault that guarded the rear entrance. I tried the knob; it felt like it had been welded into place. No lock was visible and I was out of options so, as stupid as I felt, I knocked. A screaming roar as full of wrath and malice as I was of fear complemented a heavy crash against the door and noticeable flames peeking out from the edges. This ranked ∞/10 on the run away-o-meter, but somebody must have poured cement on my feet when I wasn’t looking because I just stood dumbly staring at the door.
There was no way into the house and I couldn’t understand why I didn’t just sprint off and leave nothing but a cloud of dust. Something seemed to be drawing me nearer. Curiosity killed the cat, and I was about to become the next victim. As I cautiously edged nearer, the noises inside died down a little and the flames stopped pouring out from the edges of the door. Whatever was inside seemed to think I had left and I could have sworn I heard it pacing. I stood still until the pacing stopped then examined the side of the house. Despite all the damage there were no noticeable weak points. A closer analysis, however, disclosed a diminutive hole that penetrated two layers of wood and one layer of steel and came to a halt at a smooth, obsidian surface that almost sparkled in the light. It seemed odd that if the hole were made from the inside as all the other damage had, that it would proceed halfway through the wall but be stopped from the inside.
I reached in and touched the smooth hard-what I assumed to be metal- substance and, to my horror, it moved. As layer upon layer of scales passed the opening, I froze in pure unrivaled terror. A yellow eye, thrice the size of mine, centered in the hole and focused on my pale complexion, white with fear. As my breath caught in my throat, cold sensation gripped my chest and my heart couldn’t decide whether to stop or double its pace. There was a tremendous amount of pain, hatred, and rage trapped in that golden orb and it was all I could do to stay conscious. I couldn’t decide whether to run, stay, touch it, or simply drop dead.
That moment seemed to last forever. Until finally it just moved away as if it had lost interest. It took a moment for me to start breathing again, and even when I did it was slow and shaky. It took longer still to clear my head and think straight. This was far different from the reaction I got when I had just knocked on the door and I was still surprised. Why hadn’t it just killed me and, more importantly, why hadn’t I run away? It didn’t make any sense to stay when something like that was nearby, but somehow I just knew that I would always regret running if I did. Once I had decided not to run, I had very limited options; I couldn’t think of any way to get into the house considering that that dragon couldn’t get out. I most certainly couldn’t break the walls, but maybe there was some other way...the house was meant to keep the dragon in, not keep me out. I went around the whole house looking for an entrance but saw none. There were no windows and no doors excepting the front and back. I kept making circles around the house and trying everything that looked like a weak point.
I noticed that there seemed to be a camp in the backyard. There was a fire pit, a stove, a run-down tent, even a well. As if the owner didn’t live inside the house; that made sense, nobody in their right mind would live in the same building as a vicious fire-breathing beast that they were keeping hostage. I took the condition of the camp as assurance that I didn’t have to worry about anyone coming to check up on their captive anytime soon.
As luck would have it, that very moment, I heard footsteps. I dove into the same bush that I had hid behind earlier and watched. I could see a pair of boots and pant legs but nothing more without showing myself. The man, or at least I assumed he was a man by his gait and taste in hiking shoes, deliberately walked up to the side of the house right about where the hole was and spent a considerable amount of time up against the wall. After about a minute, he very slowly backed away and meandered back the way he came. This time I distinctly heard the sound of a bike grinding on gravel as he rode away.
I stayed for a moment, pondering the appearance of this shady new character. I didn’t think he was the dragon’s captor because he didn’t seem to frighten it, but who else could he be?
It was then that I realized that the back door was just as strongly built as the front. At a closer glance I saw that it even seemed to have steel plating. A series of grunts, whimpers, and light whines caused me to shrink back away from the ominous metal vault that guarded the rear entrance. I tried the knob; it felt like it had been welded into place. No lock was visible and I was out of options so, as stupid as I felt, I knocked. A screaming roar as full of wrath and malice as I was of fear complemented a heavy crash against the door and noticeable flames peeking out from the edges. This ranked ∞/10 on the run away-o-meter, but somebody must have poured cement on my feet when I wasn’t looking because I just stood dumbly staring at the door.
There was no way into the house and I couldn’t understand why I didn’t just sprint off and leave nothing but a cloud of dust. Something seemed to be drawing me nearer. Curiosity killed the cat, and I was about to become the next victim. As I cautiously edged nearer, the noises inside died down a little and the flames stopped pouring out from the edges of the door. Whatever was inside seemed to think I had left and I could have sworn I heard it pacing. I stood still until the pacing stopped then examined the side of the house. Despite all the damage there were no noticeable weak points. A closer analysis, however, disclosed a diminutive hole that penetrated two layers of wood and one layer of steel and came to a halt at a smooth, obsidian surface that almost sparkled in the light. It seemed odd that if the hole were made from the inside as all the other damage had, that it would proceed halfway through the wall but be stopped from the inside.
I reached in and touched the smooth hard-what I assumed to be metal- substance and, to my horror, it moved. As layer upon layer of scales passed the opening, I froze in pure unrivaled terror. A yellow eye, thrice the size of mine, centered in the hole and focused on my pale complexion, white with fear. As my breath caught in my throat, cold sensation gripped my chest and my heart couldn’t decide whether to stop or double its pace. There was a tremendous amount of pain, hatred, and rage trapped in that golden orb and it was all I could do to stay conscious. I couldn’t decide whether to run, stay, touch it, or simply drop dead.
That moment seemed to last forever. Until finally it just moved away as if it had lost interest. It took a moment for me to start breathing again, and even when I did it was slow and shaky. It took longer still to clear my head and think straight. This was far different from the reaction I got when I had just knocked on the door and I was still surprised. Why hadn’t it just killed me and, more importantly, why hadn’t I run away? It didn’t make any sense to stay when something like that was nearby, but somehow I just knew that I would always regret running if I did. Once I had decided not to run, I had very limited options; I couldn’t think of any way to get into the house considering that that dragon couldn’t get out. I most certainly couldn’t break the walls, but maybe there was some other way...the house was meant to keep the dragon in, not keep me out. I went around the whole house looking for an entrance but saw none. There were no windows and no doors excepting the front and back. I kept making circles around the house and trying everything that looked like a weak point.
I noticed that there seemed to be a camp in the backyard. There was a fire pit, a stove, a run-down tent, even a well. As if the owner didn’t live inside the house; that made sense, nobody in their right mind would live in the same building as a vicious fire-breathing beast that they were keeping hostage. I took the condition of the camp as assurance that I didn’t have to worry about anyone coming to check up on their captive anytime soon.
As luck would have it, that very moment, I heard footsteps. I dove into the same bush that I had hid behind earlier and watched. I could see a pair of boots and pant legs but nothing more without showing myself. The man, or at least I assumed he was a man by his gait and taste in hiking shoes, deliberately walked up to the side of the house right about where the hole was and spent a considerable amount of time up against the wall. After about a minute, he very slowly backed away and meandered back the way he came. This time I distinctly heard the sound of a bike grinding on gravel as he rode away.
I stayed for a moment, pondering the appearance of this shady new character. I didn’t think he was the dragon’s captor because he didn’t seem to frighten it, but who else could he be?