Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  "Arise, my army!" bellowed a sickeningly familiar voice.

  Immediately Peter's legs went weak, his stomach twisted as if a knife had been thrust into it, as the sound of thousands of beings all rising to their feet assaulted his ears. The guard behind him pulled him up by his hair, and he received a slap for daring to make a noise. The exact same thing happened to Tim next to him.

  "My loyal subjects," Manson began from the top of the steps, looking down on all and sundry, "the time is nearly at hand, the new vision of OUR planet, within the grasp of a new dawn. The only thing that stands between that vision becoming reality, lies behind that door," he said, pointing to the top of the steps. "The so-called king and a few deluded dragons barricaded, trapped, delaying the inevitable by only a few hours. Pitiful really!"

  Raising his hands in the air, each and every being in the square cheered loudly, with the exception of Peter and Tim.

  "So, we're going to go in there and get them out... one piece at a time if need be." Another cheer rose up. "Except for the king. We're going to take him alive and make him suffer for what will seem like an eternity." Shouting and baying for blood, the crowd went wild. "But before we do that, I'd like to introduce you to someone that will have a major part to play in the way we shape the new world to come." Slowly, Manson stretched out his right arm towards a secluded area, off to one side of the building, somewhere the King's Guards had used to keep a sneaky eye on things. Not anymore. From out of nowhere, a stunning human woman, dressed from head to toe in to-die-for brown silk, strutted out onto the steps, head held high, shoulders back, looking immaculate and as if she owned the place. Diamonds in her ears and around her neck sparkled brightly. Her hair was HUGE, almost as if it had a mind of its own. It did, however, look magnificent. Peter and Tim both gawped, mouths hanging open. In all their lives, they'd never seen anyone so stunning. The rest of the crowd did likewise. So far, they'd only seen her profile, as she'd walked across the steps sideways on to the crowd.

  "My... Queen!" declared Manson, getting down on one knee and holding out his hand, which she graciously accepted. Both nodded to each other before he rose to his feet. As she turned to gaze out at the crowd, there was much cheering, but what was obvious to Peter, was the undercurrent of shock and awe, something he was feeling in abundance. Because it was only as she'd turned to face the crowd directly, that they all caught a glimpse of her face: a visage littered with deep purple lines, a face stricken by madness, a face well known to the dragon community in the past for the atrocities that it had committed. Gazing upon that face, in an instant Peter knew that things had just plummeted downhill faster than an Olympic bobsleigh. He didn't know why, he just knew. Manson alone was one thing, dangerous, murderous, scheming and devious. But from the look of her, madness reigned supreme. Throwing in a big dab of insanity could do nothing for the position of the king, the planet, and all the beings on it. Hopelessness and dread consumed the young hockey player; all his fears and more had been realised in only a few moments. If only he knew the truth!

  "But before we march forward and claim what is rightfully ours, I have a gift for my beautiful Queen," shouted Manson, spreading his arms wide.

  The queen looked quizzically at Manson, as he signalled with his hands for the guards to bring Peter and Tim to him. Bracing himself, Peter knew what was coming next, and he wasn't wrong. Both he and Tim stumbled, despite being ready for the huge shove from behind. As the two human figures were brought forth, the queen's eyebrows rose up in wonder. Twirling his walking stick in one hand as he moved, Manson trotted down to the bottom of the steps.

  "This, my Queen," he announced, grabbing Tim by his hair, "is the so-called 'white dragon' from the famed prophecy that every dragon has been waiting for forever to be fulfilled. He's the whole reason dragons have protected and nurtured those pitiful humans for all this time. Pathetic!" he spat, slamming Tim's head down.

  "And the other?" asked the queen, licking her shiny purple lips in anticipation.

  Strolling across to Peter, Manson grabbed him by the hair, exposing his throat, as he pulled his head viciously back as far as it would go.

  "This one is the luckiest dragon alive."

  Strangely, Peter didn't feel like agreeing with him.

  "A constant thorn in my side up until now, and someone the king has shown a real fondness for. But for you, my Queen, a sacrifice and someone to hone your dark arts on."

  As she wandered down the steps to join her lover, the queen wondered why the king had any interest in the puny young dragon before her, and knew that he might yet have a part to play, as some kind of bargaining chip much later on in the siege. Approaching Peter, she brought her long nailed hands up to his exposed throat. Slowly, she ran the long, sharp nail on her index finger down the side of his neck, enabling blood to flow freely.

  "Delightful," she whispered seductively.

  At this point, it was all Peter could do to keep control of his bladder. Desperately, he tried to think of something else... Richie, Tank, Flash, Gee Tee, the king... anything. But nothing could take him away from the sheer terror of the moment. Oddly though, and he couldn't explain why, he felt an ill-fated sense of familiarity. His body though, was too busy shaking and worrying to even try and figure out the reason.

  Letting go of Peter, the queen glided across to Tim, but not before licking Peter's blood off her fingernails. Peter nearly vomited.

  "So... the White Dragon eh?" she observed, leaning right into Tim's face. "I look forward to killing you very slowly, taking away every dragon's last hope. Eventually, I'll gut you while you're still alive, so that you can watch your own beating heart after it's ripped from your chest."

  Tim, wholly pale by now, relinquished all control of his bladder, urinating there and then, the watching crowd all guffawing at once. The queen slapped him hard across the face, a prelude of things to come. Manson moved forward, wrapping his arm around his love's shoulders.

  "So now, my eager troops, it's time to let the chaos begin and bring the dragon king's reign to an end. This day will reward us all with a new dawn. Let us go forth and finish what we've started."

  And so with Tim standing in a puddle of his own pee, and warm, fresh blood trickling down Peter's neck, the two of them were swept along into the council building on a wave of anger and retribution, Manson and his queen leading the way.

  All the while billions of innocent beings on the surface were blissfully unaware of the imminent change in ownership of their entire planet.

  Bentwhistle the Dragon in Earth's Custodians

  PAUL CUDE

  Copyright © 2019 Paul Cude

  All rights reserved.

  Prologue

  Overcome by exhaustion, unconsciousness had finally got her man, or in this case... DRAGON! Not so much asleep, as just not awake, the naive young hockey player trapped in his human persona, grunted, grumbled and struggled against the bonds that held his torso in an uncomfortable, upright position as events that had led up to this particular low point in his life played out deep within his mind.

  A guilt-ridden sigh slipped through his cracked lips as he involuntarily shook his head. Memories of all the subterfuge raced rampantly through his subconscious as wave after wave of regret washed over him. If only he'd seen through all the tricks and lies. With all the opportunities he'd had, he, Peter Bentwhistle, could have stopped everything. Even right at the very end, he'd still had a chance, on that cold, frosty November evening on the Astroturf in Salisbridge, the one place on the planet he truly thought of as his home. Against all odds he'd battled the monster all on his own, stopped him from stealing the laminium deposits, and avoided death, albeit only just. But despite his best efforts, the evil dragon known as Manson had somehow escaped justice, something that had cost the planet and its denizens dearly. If he'd only been braver, stronger, smarter... then the scheming psychopath of a dragon could be in custody now and hundreds of thousands of lives might well have been spared. Deep down it tore him apart to know t
hat he'd been so close, and yet so far.

  Skipping ahead now in something of a blur, images of his friends Tank, Richie, Gee Tee, the king and of course FLASH, skittered through his mind.

  That fateful day with the king was supposed to have been about him, but it seemed like a lifetime ago that anything within his sphere of influence had turned out okay. That day certainly hadn't. Being presented to Flash, the ex-Crimson Guard, who at the time was knocking hard on death's door, had also introduced the three friends to a world of danger and malevolence that would have seemed like fantasy to them before. But it had been done, and thankfully Flash had been saved, albeit at a cost. Sorrow, regret and a deep sense of loss welled up inside him as he thought about the price his friend had paid. To be stuck in a false human shape permanently, losing the ability to return to one's natural dragon form seemed like a punishment only the gods could dish out, if indeed they even existed. But that's what had happened, and at least outwardly, his friend had moved on.

  Thoughts focused on Flash's predicament, his mind turned to events on that fateful Saturday... the one where he'd lost two of the things he loved the most. Adrift in the depths of his unconsciousness, it didn't stop the tears from dribbling down the cheeks of his bruised and battered body as he recollected with crystal clarity what had happened, the heartbreak from that day still tearing him up inside.

  A terrific game of hockey followed by all the usual banter and shenanigans at the sports club with his teammates was how it had started. Not only that, but the love of his life, the petite blonde bar worker with whom he'd only recently engaged in a forbidden romance, had flirted with him throughout the afternoon, causing his heart to beat faster, filling him with a sense of contentment that he'd never ever felt before. Of course it didn't last. In fact, things went to hell faster than a dragon hurrying to the toilet.

  Upon finding a bomb in their beloved clubhouse, one of many planted across the planet, sheer luck combined with Tank's outstanding magical knowledge had allowed them to save the residents of Salisbridge at the cost of the obliterated clubhouse. But that wasn't all. As events played out, he'd had to not exactly lie, but not exactly tell the truth. And this had come back to bite him badly a little later on, with his beloved Janice dumping him like a barrel of toxic waste. The world wasn't nearly so lucky, suffering one of the most outrageous attacks it had ever seen, with the death toll for both dragons below ground, and humans on the surface, in the hundreds of thousands. On top of all of that, he thought he'd lost one of his two best friends, Richie, in the Salisbridge blast. In fact, she had survived, but only just, and at great personal cost. Through a combination of magic, she'd been transformed into a human. Because of this, the dragon Council wiped her memories, forcing her to remain on the surface for the rest of her life. In conjunction with his friend Gee Tee the master mantra maker, he'd come up with a plan to save her, but he had no idea if it had worked. All he knew was that she was somewhere on the earth's surface, and just like the rest of the human population, was oblivious to everything that had gone on and the threat that events here in the dragon domain currently presented to the planet.

  Imperceptibly, the pictures he had of Richie in his head wriggled and writhed, before once again forming a face, one that he knew only too well. So well in fact, that his body was currently chained back to back with the owner... Tim! Caught up in the explosion at the clubhouse with Richie, magical residues had caused Tim, a very normal and completely unexceptional human, to turn into a... DRAGON! Taking a little time to manifest itself, at first the medics treating his injuries hadn't realised quite what had happened. Soon enough though, they found out. And it wasn't just any dragon he'd transformed into. It was a totally white dragon, a complete anomaly, and something foretold in a prophecy thousands of years old. What were the chances? But here he was, out of his depth, with no knowledge of where or what he was, let alone what he was supposed to do to fulfil the ancient foretelling. Worse still was to come. Along with Peter, they had both been captured by Manson and his forces, and brought here, to the council building, as the effort to capture the current monarch of the domain continued in earnest. All in all, quite the predicament the two of them found themselves in. Right at this very moment, unconsciousness favoured reality for the pair of them.

  Not a million miles away, other beings slept a slightly more peaceful slumber, but only through sheer exhaustion. Sitting upright against a rocky wall in an unfamiliar nursery ring, Tank, the third member of the dragon friendship trio forged in Purbeck Peninsula during their youth, snored slightly in his false human form, his huge tightly shaven head lolling to one side, his mind tortured by events of the last couple of days. Evading death by a hair's breadth thanks to Flash at the monorail station in Salisbridge, along with all the other passengers there, it was only when he'd awoken that he realised the true horror of the situation he and his friend found themselves in. Dangling precariously from a hastily fashioned gallows in the middle of the Salisbridge market place, surrounded by burning pyres piled high with the rotting corpses of dead and dismembered dragons, it was all he could do to swallow down the sick that kept racing up from his stomach. So realistic was the memory, the sense of smell from his time there made him involuntarily gag, despite the fact that he remained in the land of nod. Brutally tortured alongside Flash, with most of the skin flayed from his body, it was only the timely arrival of his boss, Gee Tee, the famed mantra maker, his best friend Richie, with her dragon memories intact, and unbelievably, a ragtag bunch of humans from the sports club above where he plied his rugby craft, that had saved him. After a chaotic battle, some ancient magic from the recesses of Flash's mind and a considerable amount of healing from some of the locals, he'd recovered enough to join what little resistance they could mount. But on finding out the true scale of the evil being perpetrated across not only the dragon domain, but the earth itself, things looked more than a little bleak. A surprise to be sure then that one of his two best friends, Richie, was tasked with leading the force that remained, despite being stuck in human form.

  Cutting through any hint of bureaucracy, Richie instantly dispatched Flash to Antarctica, in the hope that he could rescue the naga king from his forced imprisonment, thereby nullifying Manson's blackmailing of the naga race. The hope was that the ex-Crimson Guard would find willing reinforcements on the way. In the meantime, they'd followed their de facto leader to the capital and found temporary sanctuary here, at the Hampton Court nursery ring. Fed and watered, the dragon force combined with a few human oddities slept, in an effort to regain their strength and stamina for what was to come.

  Lost and alone, despite the fact that her pale, freckled face nestled snugly against Tank's finely honed chest, it felt as though her memories had been scattered throughout time. In one instant all she could remember was playing in the charity lacrosse match, celebrating afterwards, and then ending up at the Indian restaurant with her friends in town that night. From then onwards, after she'd slipped the exquisite ring she was supposed to keep safe for Peter, onto her finger, her world had descended into turmoil. Visions of vast underground cities populated by impossible prehistoric beasts flooded her very being. Flying, breathing fire and gobbling down gigantic sticks of charcoal swam throughout her consciousness. But it wasn't a dream, or anything like it. These memories belonged to her. It took some time for it to sink in. She herself, just like her friends Peter and Tank, were dragons, residing for the most part in the dragon domain, deep beneath the planet, their overriding goal to guide and protect humanity wherever possible, driven by an ancient prophecy divined far in the past by a conglomerate of races. Acceptance wasn't easy at first, but once the memories started they didn't seem to want to stop. After that it was easy... well, almost. Resentment bubbled up beneath the surface of her very being. The dragon Council had taken away everything from her. She didn't like that. Suspecting that something diabolical was going on deep beneath the surface of the planet, she'd been tempted to leave her dragon kin to whatever mess they'
d gotten themselves into... but only briefly. It wasn't in her nature to back down or shy away from conflict. So the decision was made in all but an instant. What she hadn't counted on was the stubbornness of her human friends. In the end she'd had no choice. They'd had to accompany her down the rabbit hole.

  What a trip that had been, first hooking up with the master mantra maker... Gee Tee! The look on her friends' faces had been a treat, and almost worthy of placing their lives in danger. Almost! Surprise and awe hadn't lasted long, and with the help of the dragon shopkeeper's ample supply of weapons and well of exotic magic, they'd overcome a force four times their size and had saved both Tank and Flash from a rather painful death.

  As she tried to piece together the images of what had happened, nagging doubts surfaced briefly. There and then, and against all odds, she'd been chosen to lead. Once it was clear it was no joke and there was no turning back, that cold, calculating part of her took over. An inkling of regret deep within spat in her direction, in nothing more than a futile gesture over the torture she'd committed to gain the information that she'd needed. It had been necessary, that much she knew. After that, things became stunningly clear. She'd sent Flash to Antarctica, the one place on the planet he feared to go. That... she felt regret about, but once again knew that she had no choice. The threat to the nagas Manson controlled had to be neutralised. There was no other way.

  And so they'd headed here, on their way to rescue their king. Only there was more to it than that. There always was. Briefly she wondered if they'd forgive her for what she was about to do. She hoped they would, but could completely understand it if they couldn't. It was Tank, the gentle giant whose form she currently slept across, his massive arm wrapped around her, a huge comfort, who she worried about most. He wouldn't like it, not at all. In essence he didn't have to. All he had to do was go along with it, something she hoped he'd do without much fuss. In only a few short hours, she'd find out.