Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  'Dreamlike' is how he'd describe it, although right at this moment it had morphed itself into some kind of outlandish nightmare. As the bile kicked around the bottom of his throat, threatening to make a mad dash and escape his magically derived body, mainly, he assumed, because of the death defying drop he was currently being forced to look down at by the mad woman... (no, not woman... DRAGON!) forced to look at by the mad dragon, whose fingernails were currently piercing either side of his neck, forcing blood to run freely. It could still all be a dream... at least that's what part of him hoped. That at any moment he'd wake up and be back in his house on the surface, off to play hockey and hook up with the beautiful... RICHIE! Despite his desperate situation, his thoughts turned to her. Immediately he knew it wasn't a dream, and that he really was stuck here, in something of a life or death situation. But he couldn't help wondering what had happened to her. Was she still on the surface blissfully unaware of her past, moving on with her life, still the lacrosse superstar? Or had her world been turned upside down by whatever was going on down here? If it hadn't been, then he had no doubt that at some point in the near future it most certainly would be. Silently he wished her luck, wishing as well to see her one more time.

  The muscles in her arms tensed, showing precisely how much force she was using to dig her fingernails into her two captives' necks. Just the sight of their blood satisfied something deep within her, but not as much as knowing that she had the king in an almost impossibly tight spot, one that, as she saw it, he had no option but to surrender to... a word she hardly knew the meaning of. In some ways it was a shame that she wouldn't be able to inflict the world of pain coming his way, but there was no way in hell that Troydenn would let anyone else have even a part of that particular pleasure. So she'd have to settle for breaking him, forcing him to give up and surrender. There was at least some satisfaction in that... knowing that she'd brought the king to his knees, and essentially changed the fate of the planet forever. To be at Manson's side as joint ruler of the new world that would emerge from the week gone past, sent a thrill through her like almost nothing else. And that pivotal moment was only seconds away, of that she was sure.

  Turning three hundred and sixty degrees, taking in all the dragons that had sworn to protect him, his false human body trembling ever so slightly, he still wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. Part of him wished he could evacuate the brave dragons here defending him out through the secret entrance, giving them at least some semblance of a chance in the wider world, but unfortunately the magic that held it in place only allowed one being through it at any one time... useful as an escape route to the outside for just him on occasion, but utterly useless in a situation like this. As of now though, he could come up with nothing else. Parched, and distraught beyond belief, he just about managed to croak,

  "I'm sorry," before he closed his eyes and commanded the ring to take down the shield and rebuild the bridge that would allow the enemy's forces to storm their position. Silently he offered up a prayer, but to whom, he really didn't know.

  Out of nowhere, it happened with only a hiss and a flicker. The transparent, crackling, blue hemisphere of energy disappeared into nothing, as Peter's heart dropped like a stone into the abyss he overlooked. That was it. They were all doomed, and not just the king or Tim and himself. The whole planet, that's what Manson wanted. This was the turning point and would give him ultimate control of everything, not just the underground domain of the dragons, but everything human on the surface as well. Tears trickled from his eyes, very much mirroring the blood running down his neck.

  At the sight of the magical shield shimmering out of existence, Tim let out a tiny gasp. It was impossible, and yet was happening right before his very eyes. Unsure whether to be pleased or not about this new situation, all he knew was that their fates were probably going to be resolved very soon.

  Regardless of the sneer currently residing between the purple magical scars that crisscrossed her face, deep inside she leapt with joy. She'd done it... forced him to surrender. That was it. That was all they were waiting for. Now the planet was theirs, to do with as they pleased. And the king was about to discover a very new meaning of the word pain, something she absolutely revelled in as she watched the hearts of the dragons surrounding him sink. Satisfaction at a job well done threatened to overwhelm her. Perhaps it would be her turn to win the invading army's 'evil deeds of the week award'.

  27 Holey Moley

  Siphoning off just some of the power from the laminium chains crisscrossing his torso, Fredric, Peter's grandfather and founder of the formidable Crimson Guards, had conjured up a small bubble of warmth over on the far side of the chamber, something that Yoyo and his dragons were right at this very moment taking advantage of, given just how badly all of their protective suits had been damaged during the Antarctic battle.

  Flash, Fredric and the naga king stood off to one side of the bloody mess in the chamber, the two dragons drawing power from the laminium chains to keep them warm, their companion very much at home in the cold temperatures.

  For Fredric, it was nearly all too much. Despite everything that had transpired over the last hour, he found it almost impossible to believe that he'd actually just gained his freedom. After so many decades chained to that blasted wall, it almost didn't seem real, but he'd pinched himself a couple of times just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. And it was REAL! All he had to do now was get all of them back to civilisation and stop that dastardly being and his cohorts from taking over the planet. No problem there then.

  Like Peter's grandfather standing next to him, Flash felt seriously overwhelmed, despite it not being the first pitched battle that he'd fought in. If anything, he was struggling to come to terms with having won, notwithstanding the massive odds against it. Yoyo's motley crew had performed admirably, despite their relative naivety. Luck must surely have been on their side for each and every one of them to have survived. More surprisingly though, was the fact that Fredric had restored him to the being he'd been years ago, washing away in an instant any stain of a side effect from Gee Tee's efforts at having saved his life from the deadly naga strike that had caught him off guard on his last appearance, here in Antarctica. Fully restored, he could feel the dragon within him bursting to get out, desperate to take its rightful place out here... in the open. But now was not the time, not surrounded by the life threateningly low temperatures that they all found themselves in. Even with the absurd amount of laminium he was wrapped up in, transforming here was nothing short of a bad idea. Deep inside, he whispered for his dragon form to be patient. It wouldn't be long now. Not long at all.

  The naga king's strange, echoing voice broke the silence in the icy cavern first, startling both dragons nearest to him.

  "Whhhaaaat willllll haaapppen nooow?" he asked, more than a hint of concern about his race drawn out across his reptilian face.

  Turning to face Flash, Fredric, the founder of the Crimson Guards, thought it best to try and get as much of a handle as he could on the current situation.

  "What is it we need to do? Where do we need to be?"

  "When I left," declared Flash, "the meagre force we had was splitting up, with one group heading off to try and restore planet wide communications, while the other headed towards the council building and the king's private residence with a view to a rescue. If I had to take a guess, I'd say we were most needed there, as no doubt that's where things will play out. But how we get back there is beyond me at the moment, with all the dynamic insulating suits broken in some way, shape or form. Maybe one or two can be cobbled together to allow a few of us the possibility of leaving, but even then it will take an absolute age to get back to the opposite side of the world. I very much doubt we'd get there in time to make any sort of difference, not given how long it would take to get us back to Australia, especially with the monorail out of commission. And then we'd have to organise a rescue for those left behind here. Time consuming doesn't begin to cover it," huffed Flash, disappointed t
hat he couldn't come up with a better plan to get them all out of here.

  Fredric racked his brain for anything, no matter how obscure, that just might speed their journey up, or give them any sort of edge in getting back to the dragon domain in an effort to save their king, and his best friend. Once again though, he was interrupted by the naga king.

  "Thhheeereee maaayybeeee aanottthhhher waaaayy," announced the majestic reptile, instantly commanding the respect of those all around him. "Naggggaaasss havvvveee muuccch covetteeeeed maaaagic. Maaaagic tooo oppeeen annnnd closssse portallllls acccrrrosss thheee globbbbeeee throughhhh whicchhh beinnngs cannn beeee transsssporttted."

  This caught the dragons' attention.

  "Go on," urged Fredric, keen to hear what his comrade in arms had to say.

  "I caaan opppeen a poortaal at willll, and if muuuch isss knooown byy yooouu abooout thhhe destinatiooon, theen I ssshhould bee able to accccessss ittt telepathicaaallllly. Whaaaat I laaaccck thoughhhh isss a pooowerr souurce."

  Despite the cold, despite everything he'd been through, his mind was now as razor sharp as it had ever been. In an instant, Fredric knew exactly what they would do, how they'd find the precise point they needed to transport to, and indeed just how it would be powered. With his frustrated frown very much turned upside down, he proffered his hand out towards the naga king.

  "Fredric Bluewillow at your service," he announced. "How would you like to help take down those that have done this to us, those that would have you as a bargaining chip for your entire race?"

  'Snaking' was about as appropriate a word as you could find for the grin that suddenly appeared across the mighty reptile's scaly face.

  Grasping the offered hand, an unlikely alliance not seen since the dawn of time was suddenly forged, not only out of necessity, but out of a bond formed in the cold horror of sickening captivity they'd both shared.

  "It's a pleasure... Vasuki. Now, let me introduce you to the rest of the dragons here, and then we can get down to the business of escape and of course... RETRIBUTION!"

  Earth's surface. The Black Forest, Germany.

  It had been an awfully long haul, but finally they'd arrived at their destination. Headlights dimmed, they skirted a half fallen tree and, avoiding the frozen puddles of ice, pulled into the specifically created clearing that awaited them. In the distance, some hundred or so metres away, they could just make out the moon's reflection trailing across the still water of lake Titisee, through the densely packed treeline.

  During their last stop in an outlying part of Romania, the low loader that the temperature controlled, lead lined box surrounded by a carbon fibre and titanium monofilament wall, had previously been carried on, had been replaced by something far more sophisticated... a state of the art, brand new electric Mercedes truck, which had allowed them to enter this part of Germany relatively unnoticed. Tucked away deep in the Black Forest, with nobody around for many, many miles, the two crews left the comfort of their vehicles and stepped out into the icy wilderness, not hesitating in setting up camp. Huge, camouflaged tents were broken out, erected in almost an instant, with each of them knowing there was little time to waste. They'd been tasked with breaking into the mobile vault in an effort to retrieve its hidden valuables, and knew from the off that it wouldn't be easy, even with a limited amount of magic and supernatural power available to them. The Russians had seen to that. It was deemed easier to transport if they could break it out of its high tech vault, and given that they still had some way to go, each and every one of them hoped their efforts wouldn't be in vain, understanding in no small part just how much their lives were intertwined with the fate of the prized metal they were now supposed to expose.

  28 Pipe Dream

  Two brilliant, bright eyes poked out of the darkness, like stunning black diamonds atop a matt, black cloth. Intent only on studying the route before them, the eyes gave no clue as to who they belonged to, not now that she was shrouded in the cloak, the one the king kept hidden for his little excursions out of his private residence, something that should have been impossible, and always had far reaching implications.

  Fed up with tracking the devilish twisting and turning pipes, Richie imagined that once things were over, and should she survive, her dreams would only ever consist of pipes. Pipes, pipes and more pipes! That's all she'd seen for over two hours now. Brown ones, yellow ones, white, red, green, and her personal favourite... ORANGE! It was all mind-numbingly boring. Her focus had started to waver on numerous occasions and she'd found it hard to bring it back, despite all her dragon training. The tiniest part inside her screamed out that she'd made a mistake, that she should have stayed and led the group, the one she'd left Tank in charge of. Normally so self assured, that massive hit of confidence had deserted her now and was nowhere to be seen. Even pushing her doubts aside had proved difficult and taken everything she had mentally, something else oddly new to her.

  Dropping to her knees, she crawled commando style for about twenty metres before getting to her feet and vaulting a criss-crossing line of different coloured pipes that cut across her path at waist height, once again changing sides of the walls they ran along.

  Momentarily she thought about stopping to catch her breath for ten minutes, but she was only too aware of just what might be playing out elsewhere in the domain. Her friends... not only Tank, Peter, Flash and Gee Tee, but the humans as well, they were in danger... mostly placed there by her, with the exception of Peter and Tim.

  'DAMN!' she thought. 'How on earth do I keep forgetting about TIM?'

  She should have been only too aware of him, in the same way that Janice was focused on the love of her life... PETER! But her lover and now supposedly 'Saviour of the Dragon Domain'... the White Dragon kept slipping in and out of her consciousness. One minute there, the focal point of her thoughts. The next... GONE! No recollection at all. Was it some side effect of having her memories stored in the ring? Would it cure itself over time? Or would it only get worse? These questions and more plagued her thoughts, if nothing else, distracting her from her all too ready dislike of pipes.

  Abruptly turning a sharp, left handed corner, she stopped, dropping to one knee, all thoughts of lovers and pipes long since forgotten. There, not thirty metres away, was what she'd been told to look for. A grille, two metres square, slivers of sharp, bright, white light highlighting the dust, cutting through its horizontal slits.

  Drawing the dagger from behind her back, heart beating faster, concealed in the cloak, carefully she edged forward, frightened and excited in equal measure at exactly what she might find. Reaching the grille, carefully she pried two of the metal slits apart with the tip of the dagger, creating a gap through which she could see. Relief washed over her, well... in part anyway. One thing was for sure, she was most certainly in the right place at the right time.

  Earth's surface. London, England.

  It started out as a day like any other in the bustling metropolis that was London. Commuters commuted, children and their busy parents hustled their way through the school run, traffic ebbed and flowed, mainly at the pace of a tortoise, whilst the trains and tubes transported everyone from the suburbs and the home counties to their offices and places of employment in the city. It was madness, turmoil, an unruly mess, but it kind of worked and made sense in a nonsensical kind of way.

  So everything was going... not quite swimmingly, but you know... just about okay, that is until a random tube train, full to the brim with passengers, had the unfortunate luck to be travelling from Waterloo to Bank station on the Waterloo and City line. With the tube hugging the rails at almost its top speed, the driver, a veteran of this particular route, looked out wistfully through the dirt smeared glass, pleased with himself for being on time, virtually to the second. This, as it turned out, would be the very last thought he'd ever have.

  With no warning whatsoever, the tube reached the melted part of the tracks the two nagas in disguise had used their magic on only minutes earlier. With nothing there to gui
de and support the wheels of the carriages, and buffeted by the speed, things started to go awry straight away. During the first one thousandth of a second, the driver felt the front of the transport veer to the left ever so slightly.

  'That should be impossible,' was the thought that he didn't quite have time to rattle off, before the right side of the tube somewhere just behind him collided at speed with the wall of the tunnel, instantly throwing him head first through the glass he'd been gazing so longingly through only moments before.

  Super hot sparks ricocheted off all the edges of the carriages making contact with the tunnel wall, lighting up individual sections, hurling bricks in every direction, and generating the most horrendous scraping noise (think a teacher scratching her nails down a chalk board times a thousand). Inside the body of the train, screaming passengers were flung into seats, doors and of course each other. The result was a constantly transforming, constantly moving bloodbath.

  With momentum changing and the lead carriage off its axis like a wriggling caterpillar, the whole train turned over onto its side, smashing windows and doors, ripping up what remained of the rails, still moving dreadfully fast in the direction it had originally been travelling in.

  As the first carriage crumpled up somewhat, the second buckled in on itself, tearing seats from their housings, throwing passengers into twisted, broken metal, shaking away the very structural integrity that held the thing together. Blood ran thick amongst all the terrible injuries, shattered bones, morbid cadavers and scattered remains. It was a hellish sight, straight out of most people's worst nightmares.