Dragon Dreams

Inside prison catacombs full of decayed bug carapaces. Water seeps through decaying stones with drip-dripping sounds. Pools of stagnant water randomly lay along the base of the walls with mildew and mold. The light is sick and dying.

Copious mysteries lie in the darkness that lays siege toe corridors. Rats even fear to tread here. Sunlight hasn’t touched the interior since the construction.

An African-American man, forty-four-years-old runs down the halls. Michael sweats from exertion. His skin shines. He “balls-on-fire” zips through the ancient maze... His breath labored. The dampness in the air is stale.

His face is scratched and thin lines of blood webs on his arms. His clothes are tattered. His dad-bod slows him down from peak fitness.

He’s not terrified. He’s determined. An unknown goal yearns inside of him. His intense eyes peering into the gloomy shadows.

In unsettling recesses of the catacombs are leathery ovoid eggs. Each grouping in high-ceilinged chambers with ghostly light. It’s difficult to determine the length of time they’ve been positioned there.

He runs through the gargantuan halls. Catacomb of caves devoid of life. No spiderwebs, only damp lichen.

Michael puffs and grunts as he pushes his exhausted body to keep running. He trips over fallen rubble and bangs himself.

Road rash shows on his knees and hands. He catches his breath. He stands up and shakes off the lactic acid in his muscles. His face shows urgency. He brisk walks until he reaches a blind corner.

A stone protrusion looks odd. Out of place. He examines it. Above and to the right of the cropping protrudes a shiny black onyx with unfamiliar markings.

Michael considers the onyx. Roughly two feet above him. His consternation on his face.

He JUMPS and grabs with both hands. He hangs in the air fr a moment. The stone lever then begins to move.

A click. A rumble.

The hiss of air filling a vacuum is heard. The floor shakes as something immense and heavy moves. Michael looks behind him and sees the wall separating. His eyes follow the ancient dust swirl into a Leviathan-sized room.

As the stone wall continues to separate, he walks into the room. In a long trench are outcroppings of the onyx. Gnarled and sharp as razor tips.

He stands terrified at what lays on an unnatural dais in the center of the chamber room.

A beast. Larger than a Sequoia tree trunk.

Uncertainty in his face. Michael walks the perimeter, sees no access.

Fighting himself... he makes a decision.

He walks to the edge of the room. He crouches with his back knee on the ground, raises his hips, leans forward -

BULLET - MISSILE - ROCKET - FLASH

He SPRINTS. Hard and fast.

Michael crosses the distance and at the last moment, he LEAPS over the trench.

Michael crosses the distance and at the last moment, he LEAPS over the trench.

He makes it. Awkwardly and painfully. His knees were even more chaffed.

He regains himself and walks to the very still beast.

It's tail several meters long. Its snout resembles a vicious killer. A dragon’s head with ten-inch-high serrated teeth.

Similar to a megalodon - top-of-the-food-chain predator. Bony protrusions outline its head and snout. A beast of war. The beast’s length roughly forty to fifty feet. The skin resembles a blend of Godzilla and Game of Thrones. Bony deposits embed on the midnight sea-colored hide.

Michael does not hesitate and touches the beast. His hand tingles and feels like fire ants biting his palm.

Long minutes pass, then the creature begins to breathe. The sound is rocking falling down a mountain. Michael trembles as the beast awakened. Its tail flickers.

Its eyes shoot open. Michael feels the wolf-like stare bore into him. The exchange is intense, profound. Silent.

With surprising agility, the beast stands up. Towering over Michael. He sees the dinosaur’s long arms with claws built to grip and shred lonsdaleite with ease.

How long has the beast slept within the prison catacombs until Michael awoke it?

Massive wings unfurl. The dragon stretches like a cat. The long spine pops as it realigns from slumber. Claws unsheathe before retracting. Dust and detritus float off the body.

The dragon preens itself then comes to Michael’s face level. A huff of hot air blows into him. A sharp inhalation from both of them fill’s their nostrils. Satisfied the dragon kneels before Michael. He pats the thick muscles as he walks alongside. He steps on the inner fold of the wing and heaves himself to the top of the impossible legend.

A tuft of whiplike fur extends from a nodule an arms-length from where Michael sits. The dragon faces the ceiling. Michael grips the tuft in both hands.

"Eṉ naṇpaṉai paṟakka.” Michael says in Tamil. The oldest living language known to mankind. Fly, my friend.

A might roar volcanoes from within the dragon’s chest. Godzilla would be impressed. In a fluid motion, the beast defeats gravity and leaps.

The rich aroma of charred stone scatters in the air. Chunks of magma sizzle and bubble-like water in a red-hot kettle. Suddenly, a thunder-like rumble sounds from the ground far, far, far below the surface of the ground. Deep baritone vibrates the tectonic plate.

A gigantic torpedo shoots up to a height that makes the moon dizzy. The sky darkens as if by a command to ebony hues. Thin sprays of scorching lava glide out of the prison at astonishing speed, like a bamboo arrow being launched from its mountainous auburn bow. Fletching along the dragon’s tail slices the air.

The fountain of bright orange lava gains width. Giant chunks of rock are blown off the imprisoned mountain. The volcanic ash coast Michael’s face. The beasts bound to flight cracked a hole in the earth’s crust, releasing eons worth of pent-up pressure.

The river of molten rock slowly slithers down the volcano, melting everything in its path. Everything sizzles and drips regardless of its size and weight. Trees liquefy in a split second.

Magma bombs catapult from the unstable prison, letting off poison gases. Earthen bombs come down with a ferocious amount of force and power. Heat sears a swath along with the earth.

Above a pillar of volcanic gas, Michael and the dragon rise, quickly, out of the crater of the fire-laced summit. A dominant roar presents a terrifying picture that devastates any mortal’s soul.

A thud of flapped wings rivals an attack helicopter. This is not a simple European nor Asian dragon species. This colossal titan is all of their progenitors. The first of their kind. Ancalagon the Black would have bowed to Michael's battle serpent.

Until Michael appeared, for eons everything for the dragon was transformed into the darkest black void. A crimson sleep bound the legendary living myth. It does not require significant substance. All through it can devour and digest anything that enters its great maw, the ancient nodes that knot at Earth’s leylines energize its body.

Michael spots in the far distance a pearl-white light of a mega-disaster. Armies collide and modern cannons belch munitions like confetti.

Michael tugs on the fur tuft and the dragon between his legs obey. This is not master and pet. This is a bloodline symbiosis between beast and human. Only legends and mythos ever brought a dragon to life. Legends contain truth kernels.

To the tree encroaching plain, Michael and the dragon land in the center of a chaotic battle.

“Who wants to be the first one with a bullet up the ass?” Michael grumbles as all eyes fall on the symbiotic team. The beast casually observes both armies. A deep cunning intelligence evaluates them in mass and solitary. Michael alights to the trodden ground.

The crack of an urban assault rifle echoes. Its reverb deadens as everyone looks to where the shot landed. A menacing shadow darkens the day sky for moments. The world holds its breath.

The flying serpent casts its gaze on the landscape below its feet.

Does a dragon smile?

This impossible creature dreams of legend scans every face for the culprit.

Finds the shooter. The leviathan smiles.