Reflected in the eyes of a young man, the terrifying shape of a flying beast of legends. A mighty white dragon. Its immense wingspan cast shadows unto the city below, two giant wings more fit for a plane than a living being.
"Would it be a hologram? An illusion? Maybe the heat wave came earlier?" All alternatives make sense. How else could a dragon fly in the skies of a city otherwise?
Despite not making sense, the feeling of dread spreading throughout the body of all witnesses of the beast can not be denied. Their respiration goes out of control as their limbs shake in fright. A dragon shouldn't be able to exist in this world, and yet a beast is flying.
The beast before them, with majestic flight on the skies, a visage that walks between superstition and reality. A beautiful creature, with clean and pure white scales, and a lean yet strong physique. A beast worth of legend. Even with a beautiful shape and form, they couldn't stop a surge of fear and adrenaline from running freely in their bodies.
Despite its impossibility, their minds scream: This is real. The dragon is real. A sudden realization takes less than a full second to take place. As if all the air in their lungs is blown away, they hold their breath. Awe, fear, terror. Many are left dumbfounded, paralyzed, with something holding them down, fear.
Without any warning or build-up, the dragon spits a giant ball of fire, akin to a missile, upon the city below. Its ominous orange flame comes down like a judgment of fire. It hits a building, blasting away concrete and metal as it melts away in a burning sludge. It hits another building, blasting away part of it, but not melting them this time.
Heated debris falls on the city below. For a single moment, the world freezes. Adrenaline pumping hot in his bloodstream, an overwhelming fear biting at his muscles. An inexplicable dryness in his mouth and throat.
"What do I do?" A single question but worth a million dollars. Even with all the adrenaline in his body, his legs refuse to move away, and even with the promise of death coming from above, his body refuses to listen to him. His heartbeats are like horns blowing in his ears. The world before him turns gray, even himself.
Dark and sour dread fills his mind like one fills a cup with water. Will he die here? Would his body refuse to move? Even on the doorsteps of despair, his body still fails to react. "No. I don't want to die." A simple pleading, the most basic desire of all living things, he is no exception.
No screaming or tantrum, just the primal instinct of all life. Just a silent resolution. In a single motion, faster than any other moment in his life, he leaps forward. No insight or higher thinking about where to fall to. Just a wish to avoid the biggest boulder falling in his direction.
In a loud and unsatisfying sound, the boulder fell exactly on his position, smashing anything below it. The world returns to its normal pacing as a flood of colors takes over his vision. The bottled-up emotions of that single moment come all at once, forcing his body to shake and tremble as if it had been hit with a thermal shock.
He vomits forward as cold sweat starts to fall all across his body. K.J never felt worse in his life, a fog clouding his eyes as his head spins. How could this ever happen? What truly happened? Using all the strength left to stand up, the young man holds his head, trying to not fall back on the ground.
"K…! Ka…!" A faint calling for him. Did a rock fall on his head? A concussion? "KAAA!" A scream snaps him back into reality fully. Despite the ringing in his ears and the blur in his vision, the voice is unmistakable.
The voice of his friend, one of his best alongside James and Elliot. "Lawrence… Lawrence!" Shaking out the feeling of dizziness, K.J stands up, with a renewed force he never thought to have.
"Are you guys okay?!" Turning back to see the boulder blocking the path, there is nothing to do but to call for them, at least right now.
"We… we are. Spencer and the others got trapped inside the store!"
"Shit. Shit. SHIT! Who are you with right now?" Things are bad, a dragon is flying and probably casting more fireballs, and the others are trapped inside a store.
With multiple degrees of despair and worry, Lawrence answers as fast as he can. "Elliot, He is with me there!" Elliot, at least Lawrence got someone reliable with him, he wouldn't endure this much chaos on his own. Those thoughts are painful for K.J but they are true regarding the näivete and lack of initiative of L.L
"I see! Tell the others to meet up at the park! Send messages if they can't hear you! I'm sure the internet still works!" Even with the feeling of dread and fear, K.J picks up his phone to check. "Yes. It still works! I'll text the guys to meet at the park! Send messages too!" Writing in haste, he finishes writing in a few seconds, quickly copying and sending the message to the rest of their friends.
"Done! Lawrence, the park! Tell that to Elliot and the others!" As soon as they finish texting, screams and people running afraid start to become louder, and closer. Little time to waste before the streets and roads become a mess. Taking a breath, using precious seconds to read himself, he runs in the direction of an alley.
Using the streets in any other situation would probably be faster, but this time it would be a hindrance to go through masses of people. In other circumstances, he would be able to run faster, at a steadier pace, but after the death scare, his body isn't anywhere near "top performance".
As he had thought, few people were in the alleys right now, avoiding crowded streets or emergency shelters, he would do okay, for now. Going through alleys and streets with few people in them, he runs and doesn't stop— his life depends on that.
The muscles of his leg overextend as he runs, adrenaline pushing him to the limit as pain becomes an afterthought. His breath ragged, but his body continued to run, his head almost spinning, making running hard and keeping track of his surroundings a constant struggle, but he couldn't stop now.
Would that dragon attack again? He doesn't know. Would he be able to avoid another boulder? He doesn't know. All he knows is that he has to keep running. "As if it would make anything better…"
He loses himself to a grim thought, a single moment but more than enough for a misstep. He steps wrongly on his left foot, putting all of his weight on the sole of his foot. His heart skips a beat. Tripping on his own foot, he falls to the ground, head first. Pushing his arm forward, he softens the fall, avoiding hitting his head and chest.
Awkwardly, he gets up, finally noticing his struggle to breathe. "Shit." Without noticing, K.J pushed himself overboard. "I need a break." Sitting on the ground, the young man picks up his phone again, seeing messages from his father on the notifications. Unlocking the phone, he clicks on the notifications.
"Son. Something is happening, we don't know what. Our uncle helped us pack our bags as soon as we could. We did, we also packed up your stuff, and we also left some things there, in case you needed to pass by. Your documents are in your room.
We are going to the Military facility near the city, your uncle is taking us there. Go there as soon as you can. Your uncle is saying that the city is no longer safe.
I wanted to be there for you, to go search for you, but John said we don't have the time to… I'm sorry, Kyrie."
"At least you guys are safe." One less thing to worry about in this shit situation. A moment of respite will not kill him, not yet.
(...)
Running away from problems is easy. Facing them head-on never is. The screams throughout the streets had grown louder. Honestly, he doesn't want to see them or what is happening there. "Time to get myself together." Standing up, K.J takes a deep breath.
Time will wait for no man, for him? Even less. "Human filthy." A strange and guttural voice echoes from the other end of the alley. The voice sounds human, yet it carries a feeling of wrongness as if something is amiss. A disgusting and wet sound of something being smashed by a bat comes right after.
A surge of trepidation comes from the other end of the alley. K.J swallows dry, looking around for anything able to be used as a weapon. Luckily, a metal bat lies against a trash can. With careful steps, he gets close to the bat, taking it in his hands.
Rising the bat, he steps carefully towards the other end of the alley. As K.J steps out of the alley, a strange being prowls around a small person. Its skin is green, and limbs thin, like an emaciated child. In its hands, some sort of wooden club, using the club to hit or poke the person.
A feeling of uncertainty bubbles to the surface of his mind. The person on the ground has to be a child, there are few other alternatives, and the creature… it can only be a goblin. His hands start to sweat as he tightens his grip around the bat.
A sense of trepidation and uncertainty is feeling him. This— this can't be real, so couldn't be a dragoon flying right up in the skies, the world isn't the same anymore. The last test, the last straw to the reality he once knew would come undone, soon…
A monster straight out of a fantasy book, a creature of fairy tales turns around. The ugly face of the creature is visible. Sawed teeth, goat-like eyes, a long tongue, and a witch's nose. Locking their eyes on each other, they both could feel each other's heart beating stronger, a fight or flight response.
The creature raises its club, but K.J is faster. Without any moment of hesitation, he swings the metal bat against the creature's head. The creature falls to the ground, dead and spasming.
Sparing a glance at the person's body, a big knot forms inside his stomach, making him gag. The body of a child, with their head carved in, probably by the creature's club. Air is blown out of his lungs, as strength fails his legs. Only by reflex, the young man puts the bat against the ground, using it as an impromptu cane, holding himself up. "I'm sorry."
There was nothing he could've done, maybe if he took a shorter rest… hah. Life wouldn't be easy from now on, the cruel sight before him sapping at his willpower. "No maybes are going to bring you back to life. I'm sorry." Biting his lips forcefully, he turns away his head, trying his best to ignore the murdered child.
The young man steps out of the alley, his heart beating strong. Not only is a dragon in the skies, but goblins on the ground. Turning around to go back to his way, this time, another scream catches his attention.
A moral crossroad presents itself. To come and go through the original plan and forget the scream, or to go help— "..." His mouth dries. Fate played its hand cruelly.