A Game of Inches

Last week, we found out why the dragons are chasing Ben; we still don’t know how they came to dominate Earth so well (um, they’re dragons, do we really need an explanation?).

Ben chewed his lip. He looked at the cockatrice perched on his left shoulder.

A cheer erupted from a nearby room. Clarissa raced into the hall and embraced her husband. Grinning, she planted a dry kiss on his cheekbone.

Wellington held her at arms length and, tilting his head, studied her.

“The Cubs won the World Series!” She wiped her eye sockets with a bony finger.

With a shout, Crunchy thrust a fist into the air and leaped. The heel of his left foot clacked against his peg leg.

Wellington scowled at the old pirate. “You’re not even a fan.”

“Everyone’s a Cubs’ fan today.” Crunchy beamed. Joy radiated from his face. He pumped his fist in the air. “NL. NL. NL.”

Barty groaned.

Wellington placed a hand on the imp’s shoulder. “Indians’ fan?”

Barty shook his head. “The end is coming.”

The walls of the house shook. A roar outside drowned out the cheers of the revelers inside. Wooden beams splintered and shattered. The roof rushed toward the floor. The second floor collapsed onto the ground floor.

Amidst the wreckage, a dragon snarled, exposing its teeth and chunks of meat between them. Its tail whipped left and right, tearing down walls.

“Told you.” Barty leaned toward Ben. “Don’t run.”

Frozen in place, Ben gaped at the dragon.

“Got a pint?” The dragon’s pointed snout swiveled from person to person. “I’m parched.”

Wellington stepped forward. “What’s the meaning of this.”

The dragon fixed a yellow-eyed glare upon him.

Wellington’s knees knocked. “I mean, good sir, why visit my humble home?”

The dragon snorted. Puffs of smoke rose into the air. “My business is my own.”

Wellington grimaced. “Of all the haunted houses in the neighborhood, you had to crash into mine.” He shooed the dragon with his hands. “You could’ve at least landed in the bar.”

The dragon’s eye gleamed. “You have a bar?”

“Two buildings south.” Wellington turned and winked at Ben.

The dragon spun, shredding the house like a toppled house of cards. Shattered porcelain, broken timber, dust, and torn wallpaper littered the floor. The dragon bounded outside, its claws rending deep gouges in the ground.

Ben ducked beneath the tail. It swung over his head, missing by a narrow margin.

Clarissa sank to the floor. “Our good china.” She held a couple of the larger pieces of broken plates in her hands.

Wellington knelt beside his wife and embraced her. “We can replace it.” He turned toward Crunchy. “Check on the children?”

Without a word, the pirate nodded and left the hallway in search of the lost family members.

Ben’s eyes watched the dragon through the gaping hole that once was a house. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t.” Barty shrugged. “Hundred years curses, once broken, send shock waves throughout the world.”

Ben gulped. “I hope it leaves soon.”

“Once there’s no more liquor in town, it’ll stumble home. That’s what dragons do.”

So, what do you think will happen?  What do you want to happen?  Was it too short?  Too long?  Too unfunny?

Yep, that’s right.  I’m soliciting comments and suggestions.  I may even use them.  No matter how wacky, zany, nerdy, or weird.  No matter how serious, fanciful, or sci-fi.  It’s a choose your own adventure.  You choose what happens next because I’m just not that creative.

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About bkreuch

I like to read, I like to write, and I like to make people laugh.
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