Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  Shambling forward, bound by his restraints, appearing resigned to his fate, Steel, head bowed low, used his brilliant dragon eyes to give him a two hundred and seventy degree view of everything around him. And he didn't like what he saw. Sitting at control stations, barely visible in the supernatural gloom that hung heavy in the air like a cool, morning mist stuck to the surface of a river, dragon cadavers, broken, battered and ravaged, littered the room. They must have been taken by surprise somehow, which in itself surprised him because they were nearly all at their work stations, most of them journalists, most of them seemingly in the process of typing up a story for whatever telepathic paper they worked for, no doubt to go out later on that day via the crystal node they'd come here to gain access to. One or two had even tried to write messages in their own blood on the screens they sat in front of, after the vicious acts that had eventually so disgustingly taken their lives. Fury and revulsion at the despicable acts raged throughout his body, trying to tempt him into breaking free of the false restrains with a view to gaining revenge for these poor beings who'd just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Logically he knew better, knew to bide his time and get a clearer understanding of the situation before he tried to act. Allowing his hands and arms to shake a little, knowing that's what his enemy would have expected of him in a situation like this, he took as much of it in as he possibly could, in his mind readying Gee Tee's mantra, really, really looking forward to using it to destroy these sick sons of bitches. As the glowing crystal node appeared out of obscurity the further he strode into the room, looking very much like a giant, green, glowing, crystalline egg, hope at regaining the kingdom buoyed him just a little.

  Straight faces were permanently engraved on their false human forms, with both friends realising that their lives, at this point in the operation, probably depended on it. Ready to act in a split second, but outwardly appearing docile, the two of them couldn't help but wonder what barbaric acts had taken place. Like their shackled friend, they too wanted revenge. When it came, and they knew it would, there would be no stopping them.

  Through the murkiness stepped a tall, human, female figure, clad fully in a black, figure hugging jump suit, short, spiky, flaming copper hair adorning her head, both eyes resembling the event horizon of a black hole. If danger had an emoji, she would most certainly be it.

  It was all that Jar Man and DomCon could do to hold on to their composure, against the fear and just downright evil that radiated off her. Bowing their heads in respect, they waited for her to speak.

  "What is this?" she demanded, her honeyed words reverberating in and around the murk that surrounded them.

  Taking the tiniest step forward so as to address her properly, Jar Man summoned up all the courage he could muster, and without faltering, replied,

  "A spy we captured in the grounds, no doubt scouting out the location."

  "No doubt," she spat, "No doubt! Who the hell are you to make that distinction?"

  "I... I... I... I meant no offense," stammered Jar Man, genuinely terrified.

  "You'd better not or I'll have your liver torn from your flesh where you stand. Understood?"

  Nodding profusely, all the big dragon could manage was a squeaky, "Yes" in reply.

  Shielded from the outside by the most powerful spells he knew, DomCon had already lined up some offensive mantras within his head, figuring they might just be needed in a hurry.

  "Has he been interrogated?"

  "No... no... no... not yet he hasn't."

  "Why have you brought him to me then? He's of no use here. We have professionals for just such a job."

  "I... I... I... I was told to do so."

  "Really..." she left it hanging in the air, expectancy of boundless possibilities floating throughout the room.

  Steel wasn't fooled, not for one second. It wasn't only her killer looks that had him worried. Undoubtedly she was dangerous beyond belief, he could feel it from the off, and was pretty sure both of the others did as well. Standing exactly where he needed to be, the laminium ball captain prepared Gee Tee's mantra in his head and gathered up all his force of will. All he needed now was for Jar Man and DomCon to get between him and the crystal node so that he could unleash the explosive spell whilst at the same time keeping them safe. Not willing to give them a nudge telepathically, or even the merest glance for fear of getting caught and exposing their plan, he hoped the two would take a hint now they were here, and manoeuvre themselves into position between him and the crystal node, post haste. Time, he knew, was running out, not only for them, but the rest of the world as well.

  Huddled together as one, all hugging each other against the backdrop of decapitated dragon corpses, bloody entrails, bowels and innards spread out around them, there was no concern about inappropriateness, or the fact that their friendships, up until a few days ago, had been solely based on their sports and the ground in which they played. A bond had formed between all four of them ever since the moment they'd followed Richie down those steps beneath the Poultry Cross and entered the dragon domain proper. A life changing moment for each and every one, they now had no secrets from each other, constantly supporting one another where able, their only desire to see this through in one piece and help their prehistoric comrades defeat the scourge of evil that threatened civilisation both above and below ground. As terror and fear swirled around the four humans hidden in the middle of the dragon force, and with courage in short supply, their dependence on each other was something akin to the sports they participated in on the surface. Impossible to win a team sport individually, they knew the value of working together as one in a combined effort to achieve the right outcome.

  Strolling casually around Steel's recently formed body, gazing intently at his wings, belly and chest, 'Red', as Jar Man had started to refer to her in his head, suspiciously eyed the newly formed scales across the prisoner's chest, unsure of what to make of them or how they contributed to this unusual situation.

  Knowing that he was being watched from all sides, and with Jar Man having turned somewhat to allow 'Red' her inspection, Steel caught his eye and ever so slowly cocked his head to one side, hoping that his disguised friend might take the hint. A cursory returning wink told him he had. All they had to do now was find a way to pull it off without their adversaries realising what was going on.

  BAM! The swiftest punch in the world caught Steel directly above the kidneys, sending waves of nerve shredding pain rippling throughout his body, dropping him instantly to his knees. So brutal was the unexpected violence, both DomCon and Jar Man immediately took two steps back, despite wanting to help their friend and get into a position for him to unleash the magic.

  Gulping in huge breaths of air, writhing in mind bending agony, the laminium ball captain struggled to wave away what had just happened. His whole body felt like it had been hit with the full force of a giant's hammer. Nothing now made sense, the letters from the words readied in his mind scattered throughout his consciousness. There was no spell, no mantra, and no magic. For now, it had been blasted away, replaced by distress and misery. Curling up into a ball, his mind retreated into the darkest depths it could find, as more punches of similar ferocity rained down. Darkness replaced light, as hope vanished completely.

  50 Racist

  Bolstered by his limited supply of magic, Peter carried his grandfather's broken body in his arms, marching behind Richie who was leading them off in the direction of the king. Walking next to him, Yoyo continued to heal the significant injuries whilst on the move, something he'd not really had to do before, but improvisation was his forte and something he wasn't unaccustomed to. Perilous didn't do it justice. Whilst not moving particularly fast, the persistent bombardment constantly drew their attention away from the rubble, debris and dismembered dragon corpses that they all had to negotiate on the floor. Twice having almost tripped, with one of his charges catching him at the very last moment, Yoyo was saved from a full-on face planting. That wasn't the only danger. As pre
dicted, their opponents had tried to infiltrate the shield by lying on the floor, playing dead. Fortunately the quick thinking dragon youngsters were as good as he'd described, and had seen the ploy long before the creatures in question had the chance to do any damage. They'd been routinely dispatched, dead and torn apart long before the moving shield passed over them. So far the plan to move the shield towards the king was a success, with Richie's mind hosting all of the consciousnesses working like a dream. It wouldn't be long now.

  As the healing magic flowed into Fredric, he not only became more lucid, but his injuries started to repair themselves. The gash on his chest closed back together, after copious amounts of red blood retreated back inside his human form. Black charring that criss-crossed his chest in the shape of the laminium chains he'd had to sacrifice in order to get away, and the burnt skin around his neck, slowly disappeared, whilst the bones in his broken arm and ribs knitted themselves back together, all under Yoyo's expert guidance.

  Aware enough now of what was going on around him, he stared into Peter's eyes, something he'd been desperate to do for so long, part of the motivation that had helped keep him sane in the icy hellhole of Antarctica. As he motioned to be put down, Peter obliged as gently as he could. Unsteady on his feet, it didn't stop the founder of the Crimson Guards from clasping his grandson by the elbow and pulling him in tight. Words wouldn't do that instant justice, a moment both dragons would cherish for the rest of their natural lives, however long that might be.

  "My boy..." was all that Fredric could manage, as brilliant, glistening teardrops streamed down his face.

  "Grandfather!" the youngster uttered with a certain sense of fulfilment. "I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have been there for so long. When Flash said he'd found you, I tried to get them to launch a rescue mission, but the Council wouldn't have any of it."

  "Slow down, son. It's alright. I understand, and it certainly isn't your fault. Besides, we have more pressing matters on our hands. Let's just concentrate on what's in front of us."

  Nodding, the young hockey playing dragon acceded to his grandfather's wisdom.

  At exactly that moment, a delicate, little pale hand appeared between them, offering a transparent bottle to the barely recovered Fredric. It was Janice, offering out some water she figured might be much needed, something she'd purloined from one of Yoyo's charges.

  "Thanks," declared Peter's grandfather, before downing the whole bottle in one, still constantly on the move with all the others.

  "And just who would you be?" he asked, tossing away the empty water bottle on the floor.

  "This is Janice and she's..."

  "A HUMAN!" Fredric snarled.

  Scared at the look that had just come over the human shaped dragon's face, the young bar worker retreated back as far as she dared.

  "What the hell is a human doing here, in our domain?"

  Sensing the tension in the situation, Hook sidled up beside Janice in an effort to give her some moral support.

  "TWO OF THEM!" Fredric bellowed, incredulous.

  "Grandfather... calm down. PLEASE!" urged Peter.

  "What the hell is going on?" the Crimson Guards founder persisted. "Has the world changed this much since I've been away? They should not, under any circumstances, be here!"

  "But..." started Peter.

  "No buts! Humans shouldn't be anywhere near our world. It just isn't right!"

  Head downcast, looking almost tearful, young Peter felt torn apart inside as the battle raged on around them all. Confusion, trepidation, fear, anger and every mixture of love possible surged throughout his body, rolling the insides of his stomach, forcing his legs to weaken. Hearing his grandfather speak like this about the woman he loved, shattered his heart in two, decimating him entirely.

  Stepping forward, Hook had heard enough. But Yoyo's outstretched wing prevented him from getting any further.

  "Fredric," ventured Yoyo softly. "You know not of what you speak, and given the trouble we find ourselves in, there isn't time to bring you up to speed in detail. Needless to say, those here without fangs and flames are valued as much as those with. While I wasn't there personally, I do know that Janice and Hook here helped provide a rescue, without which, none of us would be here. Without them, Flash would be dead, and you'd still be rotting away in that prison cell in Antarctica. There's more to it than all of that, but take my word, both these beings are as worthy as any dragon I've ever met. They're courageous, fearless, cunning and ruthless. Oh, as well, that weapon out there that saved your life... she's the one controlling and guiding it. Without her, you'd be well and truly dead at least twice over. Please... take my word on all of this."

  All the time on the move, gaining ground on the besieged monarch, Fredric ran both freshly repaired hands through his long, straggly hair, taking in everything that was so new, eyeing his grandson, noticing the distress he'd caused him.

  Looking up from his self pity and emotional conundrum, courage from somewhere inside he didn't realise he had, raised its head.

  "They're my friends, grandfather, and I love each of them to bits." (One a little more than the other... obviously.) "As Yoyo's already explained, we wouldn't have this fighting opportunity without them."

  Considering his kin's words, the hulking founder of the Crimson Guards brushed himself off, before turning to address both Janice and Hook, towering over them as he did.

  "You both have my sincerest apologies. You must excuse my lack of manners; I'm afraid that the events of today are proving to be a little too much for me. That said... it's no excuse for the way I've acted towards you both. If what I've been told is true, and I've no reason to doubt it, then it will be an honour to fight beside you. The very last thing I am is a racist, and in the past I've fought tooth and nail to protect humankind. I'd give my life in a heartbeat in an effort to keep humanity safe. It was, for me, just a shock realising what you were, and that you were down here fighting beside those of my kind. In my day, that wouldn't have been possible under any circumstances. You have my thanks, and once again my sincerest apologies."

  Leaning forward, Fredric grasped Janice's delicate little hand, raised it up and planted a faint kiss on the back of it. After that, it was Hook's turn. Hoping that he wouldn't get the same treatment, he was duly reassured when Fredric clasped his hand in the mother of all handshakes. Donald Trump would have met his match with this one, was all that he could think.

  Pleased with the outcome, and proud of the class his grandfather had shown in admitting being wrong, a major doubt sought to engulf the young hockey playing dragon. If he'd acted like this on finding humans battling alongside them, how on earth would he react when he found out about his love for the petite blonde bar worker? Scared almost out of his skin, he shared a split-second look with the love of his life before turning away to face Richie, and beyond the shield, the king and his comrades. As they edged closer, there was just so much for him to worry about.

  Dazed, confused and momentarily crippled, Earth lifted her spinning head up as far as it would go... not very far as it turned out. Coughing violently, mainly due to the dust she'd swallowed, she tried to stand up from beneath the debris that pinned her into position. Nothing moved, not even a jot. Summoning her magic, she let rip with a kinetic burst that should have, in theory, thrown all the rubble off her. Nothing happened. Remaining motionless and paralysed, inside a tiny seed of fear started to spread its shoots throughout her, weaving this way and that, vying for control.

  Licking one of the warm offshoots of blood that tricked across her lips, desperately she tried to calm herself. Losing her temper here and now would not benefit her in the slightest, she knew. Sifting past her thumping head, she attempted to call on just the slightest spark of magic, but her focus was totally shot. Here and now, it just wasn't going to happen. She was totally and utterly trapped.

  Suddenly, from above and behind, a minute scraping noise caught her attention. This was it she thought... the end of the road. One of her enemies no do
ubt, looking to capitalise on her precarious predicament. Anxiously trying to turn her head this way and that, frantically attempting to catch a glimpse of whoever it was, a wave of relief washed through her when a thick, toothy jaw slithered into sight, followed instantly by its double. Her familiar!

  "Good girl, good girl!" she exclaimed. "Come to help your mistress have you? Your timing couldn't be better. See if you can move some of the bigger chunks of rubble will you, and I'll try and work myself free from this end."

  Slithering across her chest in an 'S' shaped motion, the familiar chose the biggest piece of marble it could find, and widening both its jaws as far as they would go, grasped hold of it, pulling it off to one side. This it started to repeat, over and over again.

  Under siege, raging mad and constantly on the move, Manson was a mass of conflicting emotions. This should have been over by now. Not only should the coronation have already taken place, with him crowned king, and Earth, his new wife, queen, but all of their enemies should have been vanquished forever, except that blessed dragon imposter George, remaining alive for him to torture for as long as it amused him. Instead though, here he was bounding, leaping and somersaulting out of the way of this blasted silver dragon that had sprung up out of nowhere, from the human shaped body that bloody naga king had been tending to. It just wasn't fair, or right.

  Pinned down momentarily by a wayward piece of rocky debris, he fought back against his fear as a huge, raging fireball, spat at him from said dragon, headed his way at speed. Falling back on his experience and knowing that there was no time to avoid the very obvious attack, with closed eyes he opened his mind, found the guttural words of the unfamiliar language, and put all his willpower behind the effort. Through the sheer force of his psyche, he compelled his eyes back open, determined to face the consequences head on. Within only a few metres now, the heat scorched his face, that's how close it was. And then, suddenly, the roaring comet of superheated magic skipped in an instant, off to one side, missing him by the width of a fly's tongue. Forcing himself to swallow and shaking his foot free of the rubble he'd got caught up in, a short-lived flashback rendered a bright green Astroturf pitch right before his very eyes. Of course, he thought, harking back to the day when he'd taken Bentwhistle down a peg or two in the hockey match they'd played against each other, when both Salisbridge teams had met during a supposed friendly. Despite having already used his magic during the course of the game, his team were on the verge of losing as he approached the goal. Wanting to make sure of securing at least a draw, he could remember in stunning detail casting the spell that he'd just used as he wound up to hit the hockey ball. Following its trajectory all the way, pure delight and ecstasy had rocked him back and forth at the ear splitting sound of the ball hitting the backboard of the goal. Not only that, but the confusion Bentwhistle had suffered as a result of not being able to stop his magically driven shot, was by far the icing on the cake. Right there and then, he'd lost his temper and given the hopelessly naive dragon a hint of what was to come, something by all rights he really shouldn't have. It hadn't, however, affected what happened next, only the freak weather had done that.