Shamira couldn’t move. Some girls had been fascinated by dolls and unicorns as a kid. She had been fascinated by death on wings, fire in the sky, and it was in front of her now, coming fast. Shamira let her eyes follow its body, even when she knew that she should be wheeling for her life. ‘So beautiful,’ she thought. ‘Beautiful and . . . sparkly?’
Clara was the first to notice that Shamira was still outside next to the transport van she had come down in. “Shamira!” she shouted, bursting out of the armored car and bolting towards her girlfriend. That was when she saw what Shamira had been looking at and her mind warred with her body as to what action it should take. Fight or flee. The rational part of her brain was choosing the latter, but the part responsible for love was egging her on to defend Shamira.
The dragon landed, whipping its tail around its body and wielding it like a scorpion might wield a stinger. It roared so loudly that despite the isolation caused by the blockade, someone somewhere had to have heard it. Its ember-like eyes twirled around, filled with a rage so primal that every sentient creature nearby could feel them. They locked on Shamira.
She did not hear Clara yelling at her, and certainly did not realize that her friends and colleagues were about to do something very foolhardy like charge to her rescue. She did not notice much, because once she had locked gazes with this ancient creature, her eyes rolled back in her head and fell unconscious, directly in front of an angry, fire-breathing dragon.
——- —————–
Shamira had never been nowhere before. It was disconcerting to say the least. This was not “middle of nowhere” nowhere . . . that phrase was referring to places that actually existed on the edge of civilization. There was no civilization here. No earth, no sky, and not even air to breathe. Just a darkness so deep and vast and . . . comforting. How could nothing and nowhere be so familiar? She had no body to feel with or eyes to see, but she could apparently still hear.
“Welcome,” came a deep voice from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. “I have very much wanted to meet you.”
Shamira was not stupid. “Shadow Wing.”
“Yessssssssss,” the voice came. The serpentine quality did not seem menacing, but rather natural.
Suddenly, Shamira was very angry. “You did this to me! Why? Why me?”
“I am sorry, but ‘why me’ what?”
Shamira would have clenched her fists if she actually had any in this weird “nowhere” world. “You know damn well! I never asked to be your damn . . . avatar or whatever the hell it’s called. I never wanted your damn power or your damn trials.”
She felt . . . sad amusement. Wasn’t that a contradiction in terms.
“Those I choose to inherit my powers never ask for it. They are the kinds of people who never would ask for that much power. And there are no trials.”
“Bullshit!” Shamira shouted at the emptiness. “They told me about the trials. Some of your ‘chosen’ don’t survive. You get your kicks out of seeing if they’re tough enough? Get your jollies out seeing them tortured?”
“There are . . . NO . . . trials,” the voice whispered again. “You think me so powerful that time and creation bends to my will?”
“You have to! I was cut in half –”
“And that was your own doing,” Shadow Wing responded.
Shamira was actually speechless. “My own . . . you son of a bitch. How dare you –”
“You blame me for your first death as well? Do you blame me for the death of your childhood friend? Do you blame me for all the evils that have ever befallen you? Listen to me, for I speak the truth. These things did not happen to you because of me. They happened because of you.”
“Me? You’re blaming me for getting tortured?”
“Yesssssss.” Shadow Wing replied. “Before you ever could have even imagined a world like this, you would have sacrificed yourself for Jimmy Fisk. Every day, you stood between against evil forces. You took bullets for a vampire because it is in your nature to suffer so that others do not. All of those I have chosen were similar, though few matched your dedication. You yourself have said that for evil to triumph, all it requires is for good people to stand by and do nothing. You never stand by. You never do nothing. You always fight. Sometimes you lose, and sometimes you suffer. But you ALWAYS fight.”
Shamira wanted to cry or scream or both. It was easier when she could have at least partly blamed Shadow Wing or fate or both. But she knew in her heart that he was not lying.
“Those I choose sometimes die not because they are not worthy, but because they were like you in intention but not as strong. There is a difference between real strength and power. I can give you power. The rest was yours to begin with.”
“How strong am I?” she replied angrily, though the negative emotion was broader now and not directed at her host. “I’m broken.”
“You were wounded,” Shadow Wing contradicted her, “never broken. And even wounded,” he said, sounding proud, “you still fight. You fight for justice and now for love. And I ask you to fight for one more thing.”
“What?”
“Dragons.”
——- —————–
Shamira’s eyes opened just as Clara’s hands grasped frantically at her chair to pull it back. Just as the dragon opened its mouth to coat them both in flames. Her eyes met those of the beast. Her back screamed in agony. Shamira stood up.
“Shamira?” Clara murmured, her mind filled with fear and hope and disbelief, all at the same time.
“Stand back,” the risen vampire replied. She thought back to something she had seen when the dragon had been flying. Her ears picked up noises that did not belong . . . buzzing, humming, and a crackling “pop.” She stepped toward the dragon.
The creature pulled its head back, looking almost like a cat with its back arched. It growled, looking around, then trying to twist its head around as if looking for something just out of reach. Shamira knew what it was looking for without even seeing it. Then the creature turned its head back and bared its teeth, creeping its head forward until it was mere inches from Shamira’s face. It sniffed her and then . . . it whined. It swung its head to look at Clara, but Shamira moved her body between them.
“What the hell is going on?” Clara asked.
Shamira did not answer, but rather held out her hand and ran it over the dragon’s head.
“What are you –” Clara started to say, then watched in amazement as Shamira’s Shadow Claws enveloped her hand and tore something from the dragon’s neck. It was a leather strap with a number of glowing stones and wires and mechanical devices attached to it.
The dragon’s reaction was the most surprising thing of all. It instantly stopped growling and glanced around, trying to see the spot where the collar had been. It settled down against the ground and sniffed Shamira again. She held the device behind her.
“Take this,” she said, waiting for Clara to gingerly take it from her hand while keeping her attention of the serpentine form in front of her. “Sebastian?”
“Yeah?” came a confused voice from off from her right. Like Clara, he had been coming to rescue her from the ravaging beast before the oddness began.
“I have to go inside.”
“Inside where?”
“Lacroix’s house.” Shamira caressed the dragon’s head with both hands, feeling the cool, hard scales. “You’re so beautiful,” she told the creature. ‘Not a creature,’ she thought suddenly. ‘No more a “creature” than a vampire or a werewolf. Are you a boy or a girl? Do you have a name?’
The dragon cocked its head, then nuzzled her face with its nose. It was confused. It saw a little pinkish bipedal creature, but it smelled . . . something else.
“Shamira, you’re sounding crazy now,” Henry said from another direction, causing the dragon’s head to swing that way and growl ever so lightly.
Shamira felt something inside her, and she knew what was coming. Knew it was time. Her hands started to calmly unbutton her vest.
“Uhm baby, is this really a good time?” Clara asked.
“It has to be now,” she muttered back. She tossed one bit of clothing after another onto the ground until she stood naked in the center of the lot.
“Are you . . . going to have sex with it?” Clara asked absently. Despite the dire situation, her eyes were drawn to Shamira’s shapely ass and those powerful legs that seemed to be working just fine now. ‘What the hell’s happening?’ she wondered.
Shamira actually turned her head and glowered at her girlfriend. “Of course not,” she said. “Really, is that all you think I think about?”
“That and football,” Clara replied with a wry grin. But her mouth popped open in disbelief as she watched darkness start to ooze out of her lover’s pores, flowing from inside her like lava from a volcano. The smoke-like blackness surrounded her body and then started to grow . . . and grow . . . and grow. The darkness began to coalesce into a new form.