As he circled me like a shark scenting blood, I took stock of my captor. I had never seen this man before, but the fact that he allowed me to see his face, full of scars and malice, suggested a grim outcome.
Time stretched on, each tick of the clock a thunderous roar in the silence. Shadows grew long as they creptacross the floor, the sun's retreat doing nothing to ease the dread tightening around my heart. I was sure what he was waiting for. That made the whole situation even more fucked up.
I strained against my bonds, not out of any genuine hope of escape, but because surrendering felt like a betrayal to the memory of my parents, and to the life I'd fought so hard to build. Before they’d died, my life had been all sunshine and roses. It was like their death had released a storm of bullshit. I’d fought through all of it, only to die at the hands of some idiot thug? Damn it!
The man watched me struggle, an ugly sneer twisting his features. He enjoyed the way desperation painted my features. This was one twisted man. I really wasn’t making it out of this alive.
I thought of my parents again, their love, their legacy, how they'd always believed in me. And Nathan, my kind neighbor, whose friendship had been a solitary comfort in my new, cloistered existence. They wouldn't have wanted me to give up, to let this monster see the extent of my terror.
However, I was on my own. So that meant it was up to me to get out of this.
"Whatever you're thinking." He broke the heavy silence. "Forget it. There's no way out for you."
He was wrong. There was always a way out. Even if it wasn't apparent at that moment, even as the dusk began to claim the day, I held onto that sliver of hope.
As the sun started its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, the man's taunts became a grotesque melody against the backdrop of my fading hope. His words slithered through the thickening air, a series of vile promises about what awaited me once his boss got his hands on me. The ropes bit into my wrists, but it was his voice that gnawed at my sanity.
"Did you really think you could hide forever?" He paced before me. "The boss has plans for you, oh yes. Plans that'll make you wish you'd never been born."
Closing my eyes, I tried to block out his lecherous gaze and venomous words. I thought of the inn, of the laughter of guests that should have filled its halls, of the dreams that were crumbling to dust even as I sat bound to a chair.
"And me," he said, his tone dropping to a whisper that somehow felt louder than a shout. "I get to have my turn with you. A reward for my loyalty." He chuckled, a sound devoid of any humanity, and bile rose in my throat. "The boss don’t like snitches, and that means I get to play to my heart’s content."
Just then, the earth trembled, shaking the entire cabin. What the hell now? At first, I thought it was my own body, refusing to contain the dread anymore.The windows rattled, and the wood of the cabin itself groaned. The man stopped in his tracks, his face momentarily clouded by confusion.
Turning my head toward the window, my vision blurred by tears and terror, I saw something unbelievable.Impossible.
A huge-ass dragon with scales as black as the darkest night landed outside the window with a force that shook the world. Its massive, powerful legs and imposing head were like something out of a fantasy movie.
Fear had finally fractured my mind, conjuring up this mythical beast as a means of escape. Yet there it was, outside the window, its enormous wings folding along its back as it settled onto the ground, sending clouds of dust into the air.
"What the fuck is that?" The man gasped, turning pale as he stared at the creature. His bravado was gone, replaced by an unmistakable glint of fear.
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Here I was, bound and broken, on the precipice of an ending too grim to contemplate, and yet the universe had sent a dragon. Perhaps it was madness to hold on to hope, but as its large, intelligent eyes met mine through the glass, I dared to believe that freedom might come on jet-black wings.
The ground trembled beneath the dragon's weight as it prowled closer to the cabin. My captor stumbled backward, his eyes wide with the fear reserved for predators at the top of the food chain.
He pulled a gun from his waistband with shaking hands. His confidence had evaporated into the thickening dread that now filled the room.
I could barely process the surreal tableau before me. The dragon's scales gleamed like obsidian under the twilight sky, each one a shield forged in nightmares and fantasy. It was magnificent and terrifying all at once, an enigma defying the logic of my world.
"Please," I whispered hoarsely, not sure if I was begging the man or the beast. As the dragon's gaze held mine, an inexplicable calm settled over me, a silent assurance that seemed to whisper,I'm here for you.
"Shut up," the man said, his voice cracking.
Had he heard that too? I thought I'd imagined it.
Fuckface edged toward the door, but the dragon let out a resonant growl, a sound that vibrated through the walls, commanding attention and obedience.
I tasted blood, realizing I'd bitten my lip hard enough to draw it. The coppery tang mixed with the heady scent of the musty cabin and fear as my mind reeled. Each second elongated, stretching out into an eternity as we waited for the inevitable confrontation.
Chapter 3
The Dragon
I woke with a start,the cavern's darkness pressing down on me. My scales bristled with discomfort. Irritation fueled the foul temper that clung to my being upon waking. Dragons did not rise with the sun in gentle warmth. We erupted from slumber as if from the maw of a volcano, hot, unpredictable, and wrathful.
I heaved my body upward, the stone beneath me cracking under the sheer force. Boulders that had been my bedfellows for years now shifted in protest. The air was stale and thick, yet it bore an electric charge that made the scales along my spine stand on end. Something was amiss, something beyond the usual disquiet that accompanied my awakenings. This time, it felt as though I'd been jolted out of the depths of time itself, torn from the fabric of my dreams by anunseen hand.
