Secrets, Lies and Dragonflies

Chapter 2

Of all the scenarios I imagined, this was definitely not on the list.

At the far end of a wide open clearing, with his head buried between his knees, a small blond figure is huddled in the corner of an archaic prison cell. Constructed around the base of a fat oak tree, thick branches are tethered together with twine and tar to form impenetrable walls. A massive lock hangs ominously from the door of the cage.

"Mommy...."

Snapping tree limbs coming from the wooded area on the other side warn me to retreat. Then voices. I crouch low, camouflaging into the foliage.

"Think about it, Asher. With this one, we might have a chance of getting back into Grizzle's good graces."

"You mean, I will have a chance." This guy sounds like he could be in one of those anti-smoking commercials. "You're lucky I let you anywhere near my Targets. I've been tracking this one long before you were ever around."

"What are you even talking about?" says the first guy.  They're hidden behind the wall of trees, but he sounds younger. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have a clue where to find him. I'm the only reason we're here! So—so back off!" 

"You're such a parasite, Oafish!" The bushes shake and a loud thud quakes the ground. "I shoulda cut you loose a long time ago. You have no idea how lucky you are that I even tolerate your presence." Then the horridly, rough voice gives a stern warning. "If I were you, I'd stand down. You're no match for me."

"Oh, so that's how you want to play this, Asher? You know you can't make it off this mountain without me."

"Me, you say? I can't make it?" He laughs a devious laugh. "Huh. Maybe I should test that theory of yours and send you on your way....NOW!"

Suddenly bursting between the maple and pine trees comes a massive ball of fur and feathers the color of burnt charcoal. As soon as the freakish figure hits the ground, its curled up shape unfolds. Rising onto hind legs built like a horse is a body that makes no sense at all.

The beastly giant must be at least twice as tall as me. A long, pointy beak takes up most of its hideous head and a matted mane of horse hair runs down the creature's back. Its thick chest and front legs are like that of an enormous Rottweiler, with bulging muscles covered in black fur. Perched just below its shoulders are giant wings that span six feet out in each direction. One of the wings appears fully functional, but the right one is almost bare, with little patches of feathers speckled along a skeletal arm all wrapped in scabbed and scarred skin. At the end of each winged extension are man hands with bratwurst sized fingers. My breath hastens when I see long claws protruding from them, sharp enough to rip someone to shreds with just one swipe.

The blond kid, a little boy about six or seven I'd guess, dashes to the front of the prison cell and pleas to the beast. "Mommy. Can you please let me out?"

The creature spins around to face the cage. "I would, but daddy is being very mean to me, honey."

"Please, mommy. I just want to go home now." The little boy's eyes begin to swell.

"Ooooh, Oafish?" Asher mockingly calls from within the wooded area. "Any questions now? Or do you need me to be more clear?"

The ground vibrates. Branches and bushes go flying. Emerging into the opening is another hideous, even more ghastly giant.

"Daddy! Oh, daddy, I—promise. I'll—be—good." The caged boy's sobs are so drastic, he has to catch his breath between each word. "Can—I—please—come—out—now?"

Mommy? Daddy? I shake my head. I rub my eyes. But there is no mistaking what I'm seeing.

Asher towers over Oafish with a head of a Pit Bull and fangs as large as a saber tooth tiger's shooting out of the sides of his jaw. His chest and front legs are also that of an enormous Rottweiler, covered in black fur. And like Oafish, wings sprout from his shoulders—the left one completely stripped of all feathers. Only mutilated flesh covers the bony extension right down to his chunky man-hands flanked with deadly claws.

Eyes black as coal, Asher bends down and draws the boy's gaze away from Oafish. With a steady calmness, he says, "Daddy wants to let you out, but your mommy doesn't watch you like she should. So I have to protect my little Vinny. You know I don't want anything to happen to you, son." While bewitching the little boy with his gaze, Asher is balling his massive fist. Suddenly he clocks an unsuspecting Oafish so hard in the head that the jolt sends him flying against a wall of boulders far on the other side of the clearing.

Oafish scrambles to his feet, screeching like a crow. With fury stirred eyes as dark as midnight, he squares off against Asher.

Drool dripping from his fangs, Asher's stance welcomes Oafish's advance.

The two go at each other like roosters in a cock fight, flying up as high as their broken wings will take them, then crashing down on one another with full force. Their claws slash at flesh and bone. Asher's bite is vicious, but Oafish makes good use of his piercing beak. They bleed, but it's black soot oozing from their gashes. The fumes coming from their wounds smell putrid, like spoiled milk mixed with rotten eggs.

The little boy slides to the back of his cage and buries his head between his knees.  His hands clasp tightly over his ears as the pair tear each other apart.

When they take their fight into the forest, I gauge how far they've gone by watching the tops of trees collapse in their path.

It's now or never.