Preface
I sat on the park bench, my binoculars hung around my neck. I had my camera in the pocket of my jacket. I had a short-sleeved shirt under a long coat that was made of thin material, I wore a normal pair of blue jeans that were faded from use in some parts. I was wearing dark-tinted sunglasses and a baseball cap. My hair was pulled back into a messy, but tight, ponytail. My normal caramel colored hair was dyed a dirty blond.
I grabbed my book and pretended to be reading, when really I was looking over the top. I was undercover, I was a private detective. My eye caught a man enter the park. He was wearing winter clothes when it was only a bit chilly. I watched him walk out of sight. I got up off the bench and followed behind slowly. I turned the corner and saw the man shake hands with a younger man. This man was skinny, but fit. While the other man was big and muscled. I saw the first man pull out a briefcase from his jacket after looking around. I was hidden behind a tree, and was peeking through the branches.
It was a small black case. The man gave the younger man the briefcase with shaking hands. The younger man opened the case, he nodded, seeming satisfied. He then turned and walked a few places away. In a flash the younger man turned around and shot the first man. The first man fell to the ground, a puddle of blood pooled out around him. I went to follow the younger man as he left the park. As I started to walk after hun, I was grabbed from behind by two strong hands. I struggled and my attacker put a hand over my mouth.
I bit his hand and slammed the heel of my boot onto the end of his foot. He let go of me and I elbowed him in the face. Another man grabbed me from behind. The other man got up and walked towards me. A small trickle of blood came from his bottom lip. As he got closer, I used the man holding me to my advantage. I brought my legs up and kicked the guy in the chest. The guy holding me got a nice head-butt in the nose. The man holding me dropped me and grabbed my nose. I pulled a gun out of my many coat pockets. I aimed it at the men, I held the gun equal with their chest.
"Who do you work for?" I asked, my gun held level. I felt a gun press against the back of my head.
"They work for me." A calm male voice said from behind me. "And if you move a muscle, I'll shoot you."
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to look behind me.
"I ask the questions, who are you?" The voice answered.
"My name is Helen Decare." I replied without fear. I wasn't lying, but I wasn't telling the truth. I was undercover as Helen Decare, my real name is Amea Harborn.
"What do you do?" He asked, the gun still against my head.
"I test products to see I'd they work the way they should." I answered with a steady voice. I made my voice sound different when I talked when undercover.
"Why were you sneaking around if you test products for a living?" He asked. Darn, I hadn't thought of that.
"I heard a gunshot while put for my daily jog, I always bring a book when I jog, for when I take breaks." I lied smoothly. "I was reading my book, I heard a gunshot and came to see what was going on, I saw some guy get shot, and tried to follow the person who was walking away. These two idiots grabbed me though."
"Hmm . . . if all that is true, how did you learn to defend yourself like that?" He asked.
"My parents sent me to self-defense class every summer." I explained. One good thing about being a private detective, is that you know how to tell a lie. Although not all of it was a lie. I did go to self defense class every summer, except my parents didn't send me. I was in an orphanage my whole life, I never knew my parents.
I got a job as soon as I could, to save up money. When I had enough money, I started paying for self-defense classes.
"Hmm . . . If what you're saying is true, why are you not panicking? Even though you have a gun against your head?" He asked in his calm voice. Ih thought about it for a moment.
"Should I be panicking?" I asked, putting a fake hint of worry into my voice.
"Most people would be worried, most of the time if people have a gun against their head, they'd be scared for their life." He replied calmly. I felt him shrug.
"Well, I'm not like most people." I said.
"What do you mea-", he began to ask. I slammed my elbow into his stomach and spun around, gun in hand. Before he could recover my gun was at the side of his head.
He chuckled darkly and said "It seems I have underestimated you." He looked at me through the corner of his eyes.
"Looks like you did, now, who are you?" I asked, keeping my voice disguised. I could see his face now, and realized it was the young man that I saw earlier.
"Why should I tell you?" He asked with a dark chuckle, his voice calm as ever. I shrugged.
"Oh, no reason. I only have a gun at your head." I said, flipping of the safety.
"Why do you have a gun?" He asked, I didn't answer. "Boys." He said. The two men pulled out a gun each. They aimed their guns at me. I reached into another one of my coat pockets and quickly pulled out another gun. I aimed it at the men.
"Call them off." I whispered in his ear. He chuckled and lifted two fingers. The men put the guns back up and crossed their arms. "Now, who are you?" I asked for what I hoped would be the last time.
"The one person you'll never know." He said, and in a moment, in his place stood a red . . . dragon! Scales replaced his skin, his hands turned into claws, a scaly tail grew, wings came out of his shoulder blades, and he was no longer human. He . . . was a dragon. The dragon was large and stocky, with dark red scales. The dragon looked at me with one large red eye. The dragon, which was once a man, looked as if it was . . . laughing!
I stared at the eye in suprise and took a step back. The large, laughing dragon took off. He flew over the are, he scooped the men up in his claws. He carried the two men with ease. With a few more beats of his wings, he rose above the clouds and disappeared from view.
