Gork, the Teenage Dragon

After flying around like that for a good ten minutes, I finally see the Dining Hall entrance up ahead.

So I fold my wings across my back and let myself coast forty feet down to the ground with the flight momentum carrying my scaly ass forward. And when my webbed feet hit the floor I just keep walking.

I stroll right on through the Dining Hall entrance.

And I think:

Finally.

Because the second I walk through the door, I can instantly smell the luscious scent of Runcita. Now inside the Dining Hall it’s a madhouse. Packed scale-to-scale with cadets. These dragons are munching on bat sandwiches and hornetsicles and shouting at each other and kicking skulls up in the air.

I gently but firmly start shoving fools and chicks out of my way, pushing deeper into the throng.

“Hey,” somebody growls. “Watch where you’re flinging them wings!”

Where is my Queen? Come on come on come on. I know you’re here somewhere!

And when this big nasty dragon fool in the crowd turns to glare at me for being too pushy, I guess the demented look on my black beak must say it all. Because he just holds up his talons palm-first and takes a step back, making room for me. But I’m still not making any real progress. I leap up in the air and look across the Dining Hall.

There she is.

Runcita.

She’s maybe a hundred feet away. All the way on the other side of the Dining Hall. But I’d know that gorgeous green scaly face anywhere. She’s wearing her gold tiara, the one with the red rubies in it.

Runcita’s sweet scent is wafting up my nasal passages and tickling the pleasure centers in my brain. Now it’s true that the heart is the highest law there is, but if you ask me, the snout sure comes in a close second. Because part of me just wants to lie down on the ground and weep with gratitude, that’s how good she smells.

But Runcita is on the move, shoving her way through the crowd. She looks like she’s heading toward the exit on the other side of the Dining Hall.

“Runcita!” I shout, leaping up into the air.

As I hover here in the air for a second, I see her stop and turn her scaly green head and look in my direction, aiming to see whoever just called out her name. But then I fall back to the ground.

Time to make my move. Here I come, Luscious.

“Runcita! Runcita! Wait up!” I shout, as I fly right at her.

I can see Runcita has stopped and she’s looking for whoever keeps calling out her name. Which is me.

I rocket forward and bellow, “Runcita! Runcita! Runcita!”

I’m shooting toward her and I can see her but she can’t see me because I’m flying at her from the side. I have a straight line of sight and she’s right there. But then all of a sudden I can’t see her because my line of sight is blocked by this giant Mutant who steps directly into my path.

This Mutant is so tall, his chest is directly in line with my beak. And the way I know he’s a Mutant is because he has those patches of glowing green scales all over his forelimbs, like what you see on most Mutants.

Anyway, by the time this big Mutant steps into my path there’s no time for me to stop flying. My beak crashes straight into his scaly chest. And my head whips back and cracks the floor so hard it feels like a coconut being split open with an ax.

Now this giant Mutant must’ve barely felt the impact from our collision because he’s just standing on his hind legs like a statue. And then I could swear I hear him chuckle.

So I spring to my webbed feet.

“What the hell?! You think this is funny?!” I growl.

I mean I know Runcita is just on the other side of this Mutant, and that’s all the inspiration I need. And a powerful bolt of WILL TO POWER surges through me and I pull a big flamestream from my belly and load it on my tongue.

And I feel giddy for having found this individual to unleash all my accumulated rage on.

I rear back and cock my long neck and prepare to blast the flamestream right into this bastard’s scaly green face.

One Mutant casserole coming right up.

Extra crispy.





[ 28 ]


THE MUTANT HAS A SURPRISE IN STORE FOR ME


I end up shooting a firebolt, instead of a flamestream.

But then I look up and to my ever-loving shock I see this giant dragon doesn’t even have a scaly green head. Because where his monsterish head should be, there’s just air. And so my firebolt shoots harmlessly up through the air until it hits the ceiling.

And I repeat: this bastard doesn’t have a scaly head.

And if it sounds freaky, well that’s because it is.

Now the weirdest part, though, is this Mutant does have a short scaly green neck.

Head? No.

Neck? Check.

And the dragon’s neck appears to sprout up a couple inches off his shoulders and then just abruptly stops, as if his scaly body had found the process of making itself too complicated and so when it got to the head it just threw in the towel and quit.

Spooky.

Because the point where the dragon’s neck stops is a perfectly flat plane, so that you could set a mug of lava on it and not worry about spilling a drop of it.

“Hey,” I growl, “get out of my way! I’m on my Queen Quest! And if you’re looking for a new friend, go look elsewhere. Because headless just isn’t my thing.”

The bastard flaps his wings and points a murderous-looking claw at me. “Just because I’m not Normal, you can’t disrespect me like that,” he booms. “I still got rights!”

Where the heck is his voice coming from? This bastard doesn’t have a head, but he has a voice?

Then I feel some hot air on my scales. And I glance down and am shocked to see the Mutant’s entire scaly green face is located in his belly. Here this fiend’s two yellow eyes are staring up at me. And there’s his nasty black beak. And as I’m studying his beak, the red tongue flicks out and licks it. Then, finally, there’s his green snout.

The Mutant’s monsterish scaly face is right here in the center of his stomach, staring up at me.

I feel woozy just looking at it. Now as the Mutant bastard stares up at me his yellow eyes keep flicking back and forth, left to right. Like I’m a book and this fool is reading me or something.

Ugh.

Then this scaly bastard sticks his talon right in front of my beak, like he’s trying to show me something.

“Recognize this, you dirtbag?!” he growls. “Look familiar? How about the right for chicks around here not to have jerks putting tracking devices on them while they’re asleep?! Recognize this, scumbag? Huh?”

I peer at the shiny silver thing this maniac is showing me and a jolt of shock shoots down my spine. I feel the blood rushing to my scales and my tail slinks between my hind legs.

It’s my nanotracker. My Secret Weapon. The little silver glinting thing. Right there in the Mutant’s claws. And just seeing it here like this, well I start sweating. And my black heart starts pounding away like some creature trapped inside its coffin, buried alive.

I feel so ashamed, I just want to vacate my life.

“Where did you get that?” I croak, as my hind legs start to tremble.

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