Mari Mancusi - Scorched

When she reached her destination, she found herself pulling out a set of silver keys she didn’t know were in her pocket, slipping one into a metal lock, turning it, and pulling open the heavy door. Without pausing, she slipped into the building, wondering what she would find.

At first she thought she’d entered some kind of prison. But then she realized it was more like an animal testing site, with rows upon rows of multilevel cages, rising high to the ceiling and filled with apes and monkeys and gorillas and…

…a dragon.

She squinted down the rows. Sure enough, there was Emmy herself, standing in the very last cell. The dragon looked a lot different than she had in Trinity’s previous vision. There, she’d boasted brilliant, almost blinding emerald scales, sparkling in the sunlight like precious jewels. Here, those shining scales had paled to a dull brown, so faded they appeared almost translucent.

Still, there was no mistaking it. It was Emmy. The dragon from the egg.

She started toward the dragon but stopped short, realizing Emmy wasn’t alone. A scruffy, older man dressed in filthy coveralls was lugging a large hose in the dragon’s direction. Trin watched from a distance, unseen, as Emmy shrank back in her cage, her eyes bulging with fear. The man gave a cruel laugh.

“Sorry, dragon,” he chortled. “It’s bath time.” He turned on the hose, full force, shooting Emmy square in the chest. Emmy fell backward from the force of the water, her fear and panic engulfing Trinity as if it were her own. As the high-pressure blast slapped against an open sore on the dragon’s left flank, Emmy bellowed in pain. Desperate, she lifted her mighty head, her massive jaws creaking open, preparing to unleash her fury on her captor. Trinity watched, almost rooting for the dragon as she waited for the fire to come.

But to her surprise, no flames shot from the dragon’s mouth—only a sputter of spark and the most pitiful puff of smoke. Emmy closed her mouth, looking confused. The man laughed again.

“Good try,” he snorted. “But your fire-breathing days are long over.”

Emmy’s face fell and she resignedly put up with the rest of the bath. Finally, the man turned off the hose and grabbed a mop, attached to a long pole. He stuck the mop into the cage, in a rough attempt to rub the dragon down. In response, Emmy turned her head, grabbing the mop in her teeth and playfully tossing it to the back of her cage. The dragon looked so proud of herself that Trinity wanted to laugh. The poor beast might have been robbed of her fire and dignity, but she wasn’t entirely helpless.

Sadly, the man didn’t find the scenario so amusing. “That’s it!” he declared, stalking over to a nearby wall and grabbing the hugest electric cattle prod Trinity had ever seen off a hook before heading back to the dragon. “You will behave,” he declared, jabbing Emmy in the neck with the prod. “If it’s the last thing you do!”

Emmy let out a bloodcurdling scream and Trinity was sent reeling as echoes of the dragon’s pain rocked her to her core. But the man refused to stop, jabbing the poor beast over and over again, electricity crackling from the stick and through the dragon’s trembling frame until Emmy finally collapsed, her body convulsing and her mouth foaming.

“Emmy!” Trinity cried in horror, involuntarily giving herself away. The man whirled around, his eyes locking upon her. Uh-oh.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” he demanded, stalking over to her, still gripping his electric prod. Trinity took a hesitant step back, then forced herself to stand her ground.

“Leave her alone!” she found herself saying. “You’re hurting her!”

“So what?” the man shot back. “In two weeks she’s going to be monkey meat.” He glared back at the dragon, who was still writhing in her cage in agony. “And good riddance too. She’s been nothing but trouble since she hatched from that stupid egg.”

Please. Trinity. Help me.

Fury overcame Trinity—fury at the coldhearted man for abusing this poor, helpless beast; at this compound—whatever it was—for caging her in the first place. On impulse, she charged the man, shoving him with all her might. He stumbled and fell onto the concrete floor, screaming in anger. Trinity lunged again, this time grabbing his cattle prod.

“Get the hell out of here,” she growled. “Or I’ll stick this thing so far up your ass…”

The man’s face went white and he lost his confident swagger as he scrambled to his feet, not taking his eyes off the prod. “Give that back,” he tried in a trembling voice.

“Not likely.”

“You don’t know what that thing can do. There’s enough electricity in there to kill a man.”

“Then I suggest you get moving if you want to live till morning.”

The man rolled his eyes, disgusted. “You just wait until your supervisor hears about this. You’ll be fired for sure.” He turned and fled, the exit door clanking loudly behind him. The primates in the other cages whooped and cheered for their newfound hero. The sound was nearly overwhelming.

But Trinity only had eyes for Emmy. Setting down the prod, she approached the dragon’s cage slowly, peering inside. At first she worried the dragon might already be dead, but then she caught Emmy’s ribcage heaving up and down with effort. Trin let out a sigh of relief.

She scanned the creature; from this close proximity, she could see that the dragon was missing a whole section of scales, as if they’d been ripped from her body one by one. Her right wing was misshapen—broken and not set properly, maybe in an effort to keep her from flying. Under the wing, several ugly welts and burn marks marred the dragon’s flanks, some festering and crusted with oozing, yellow pus. And the spot under her neck where the man had poked her was still smoking.

Trinity’s heart wrenched and it was all she could do not to throw up then and there. This beautiful creature…so abused. But she forced herself to stay strong.

“Are you okay?” she asked Emmy, daring to reach through the cage’s bars to stroke the dragon’s long nose. She knew it was probably a good way to get one’s hand bitten off, but somehow she knew Emmy wouldn’t harm her.

Sure enough, the dragon nuzzled her giant head against Trinity’s hand, her whiskers tickling Trin’s sensitive skin. The dragon opened her large, liquid eyes, staring up at her savior with such gratitude it made her want to cry. She observed, sadly, how Emmy’s once brilliant blue eyes had faded to a dismal gray.

My thanks, Fire Kissed, Emmy whispered in her mind, her voice weary and broken.

“Who was that?” Trinity demanded, glancing back at the door, praying the man wouldn’t reemerge. She couldn’t stay long. He might return with backup. Still, she had to make sure Emmy was okay first.

Just a man assigned to care for me. He’s worse than some, but not as bad as others.

Trinity shuddered at the idea that there could be worse. “But why?” she asked. “I mean, how could anyone do this to you?”

She tried to remember the other vision—the city engulfed by flames—but instead all she could see was this one gentle giant before her and her great suffering at the hands of mankind. Was this why the dragons rose up and destroyed the world? Was it merely an act of survival?

I do not know, Emmy whispered in her mind. With great effort, the dragon managed to right herself, letting out a long, surrendering sigh. Then she met Trinity’s eyes with her own. But I need your help.

Trinity found herself nodding. Of course. At that moment, lost in the dragon’s beseeching eyes, she would have done anything she’d asked. “What can I do?”