Fated Scales: Imagine
Fated Scales
A novel by Cheetahs(Aryn Storm)
Chapter Description: On their way to the ideal vacation home, Doran asks Alex to imagine the delightful possibilities awaiting for him as a feral dragoness, but Alex envisions a completely different scenario conjured by immediate doubt and crippling fear.
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Chapter 4: Imagine
Alex tapped his nails on the brown, lacquered table, his gaze distant as he replayed the episode from the lab in his mind. He remembered that sudden shock, those icy fingers that seized his spine, the involuntary spasms twisting his muscles this way and that. One moment, he stood upright. The next, his body turned against him, executing a series of movements that came from somewhere else, from... someone else. During that short, terrible moment, his body no longer belonged to him, but to the one saying those damned words.
Helplessness. That was what Alex felt right now, along with a sinking feeling of emptiness. Whatever thoughts used to fill his mind had scattered, leaving only the faint tapping of his nails against that fine, polished wood. The small table had round corners, framed with black borders inspired after the interior of the charter plane.
Cushy as the armchair upon which Alex sat was, his ass still turned stiff. Luxury...the illusion of comfort. Matte blue, covered in velvet, it was made to steal everyone's gaze, but you wouldn't know how crap it was until you actually sat on it. On the other side, to Alex' left, was a sofa, long enough to fit two people, made of the same fine material.
Doran lounged on it, legs crossed, fondling a toy dragon. It was a cheap plastic figurine bought from who knew where, with irregular shapes and scales.
"Imagine you're a feral dragoness. You have a whole forest to yourself. Trees to scratch. Boulders to leap over. Small game to hunt. You're free to soar high in the skies, lounge in the sun, fish in the river, or swim in the lake. You are free--truly free--in a way that you can never be as a human."
Doran's words sounded muffled to Alex' ears. His focus was drawn by the soft movement of his fingers, his mind working overtime in trying to comprehend what had happened back there in the lab, how commands worked, and if there was a way to get rid of his behavioral inhibitor for good.
Yet, every time he shifted an eye towards Doran, anxiety held him back. Such a simple question, turned into a heavy burden that Alex couldn't just shrug off. So, he remained silent, dwelling on the hollowness growing within his stomach, wondering whether Doran had fed him a big, elaborate lie all along in order to enhance his lonely existence with a feral dragoness mate. Feral dragoness. Feral...
Just a fancy word for pet.
"You'll be free to come in and go out of the house whenever you please. Unrestricted access. Everything that I do, I'll teach you to do in your own adorable ways, if I may add. Sure, you will have to get used to having paws instead of hands, but your slender digits will be flexible, and your brain has the capacity of making the right connections. In no time, you'll be able to handle a joystick. Open and close doors, assist me in the kitchen if you're bored enough. Slowly but surely, you will become accustomed to being a dragoness, with the added perk of looking gorgeous, being fit all the time, and capable of flight."
"I won't be able to talk," Alex mouthed.
Doran perked his head. He settled the toy onto the side of the couch and turned to face Alex, resting his head on top of an arm.
"Yes. You won't be able to talk, but humor me for a moment. What is talking?"
"Uhm...words?"
"A form of communication. A means to convey a message, and messages--they come in various forms, don't they? Behind each of these forms, there's an entirely new language. With your claws, you can scratch or draw letters. Your growls, squeaks, roar will express your needs better than words can, and for everything else, there's body language. It may take a bit of time for both of us to get accustomed to it, but once we do, we'll have our own secret language, designed by us, for us."
"I want it gone," Alex said, idly tracing a finger along the surface of the table. "None of that matters if this...thing is in my head. I want it gone."
Doran shifted into an upward position on the couch, rubbing his hands together, leaning forward a little. "What is it that you specifically want gone?"
As if he didn't already know! All these pep talks, these sales pitches--their only purpose was to pull Alex' strings, to nudge him into the direction Doran wanted. Anger, regret, shame, and stinging doubt coalesced within Alex' breast. His fist fell hard on the table, the thud loud enough to make Doran's eyebrows twitch faintly.
"Would you just, for once, stop working me?"
"What do you mean?" Doran said, retaining that infuriating hardness of his.
"Can you just stop working me for like, ten seconds straight? Stop jerking me around, like I'm already your pet?"
"Alex, I am not working you. What I say--what I want--is for you to think about things on the long term, instead of being so self-conscious with the present. The present doesn't matter. It's here today, and gone the next month."
"Yes," Alex said, gnawing on his lower lip as shudders began rocking his frame. "Yes you are. You worked me before, just like you're working me right now. Just drop the whole ideal dragon life thing and tell me the truth."
"What truth?"
Alex opened his mouth, only to shut it back after five silent and awkward seconds. He took in a deep breath, but it did little to soothe his churning stomach or alleviate his shivers. His hands slipped into his pockets, the film of sweat coating them adding to his embarrassment.
"You act like this whole transformation is about us, when in reality, it's all about you." He sniffled back the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm him and faced Doran. "Just say so. Tell me that I'm going to be a pet. Admit that everything I did was for your sake, and that you never intended for us to be equals."
"Alex, listen to yourself. You are clearly--"
"NO! Don't, just...don't tell me I am wrong!" Alex raised his voice, pushed himself to his feet, and jabbed a finger at Doran's face. "I have done nothing but listen to you like an obedient dog. Now it's your turn to hear me, Doran."
His nerve faltered for a moment, Doran's intensity getting under his skin. He looked left, towards the door that led into the cockpit, then right, at the minibar stocked to the brim with fancy liquors. Finally, he forced himself to stare his best friend down, trying his hardest to frown in a convincing manner, but failing due to the tears that welled at the edge of his vision.
"Everything I've ever done was for your sake. I never had control over my life. Ever since I met you, I traded my freedom for a lifetime of favors and servitude. I mean, isn't this what this is about? Us flying all the way out to the middle of nowhere? In case I change my mind? So it's either this," he paused to sniffle and gather his thoughts, "It's either me going through the transformation like you want me to, or...or... you'll use every command in existence to bend me to your will, just like Enara did."
Alex took a step back when Doran got up. Tall and imposing, he began approaching Alex, forcing him back, until he hit the door that led into the cockpit. There was no backing away from this one. Not anymore...
"No," Alex rasped, thrusting his arms forward. "Get away from me. I don't...I want nothing to do with you, unless you admit to what you've done. That you tricked me into becoming your future pet. Say it, Doran. Tell me you need this--that you need me, in order for your grand plan to work. Ask me for a favor! Just this once! Tell me--"
Doran grabbed Alex' hands, pushing them to the side, covering the short distance between them, until only a few inches stood between them.
Alex tensed up. He considered leaping to the side or something, but out of the blue, Doran grabbed him, slowly pulling him into his embrace, resting a hand on the back of his head.
"I need you, and I need this favor from you. I cannot ever be complete without you, and I swear that I will never-- I will never --treat you as a pet. Mate. Mate is what you are. My mate."
"Khhh," Alex hissed through gritted teeth, barely able to hold back his tears. He spoke with such passion, his conviction unyielding as always. But how could Alex trust him? What certainty did he have that Doran would keep his word?
His resistance faltered, and so did his body. Tears sprung from his eyes as he fell limp into Doran's embrace, pouring all of his worries out of his system through frail, pathetic sobs.
"I won't betray your trust. I love you as a human, and I'll love you even more as a dragon. Just trust me on this one."
Alex tied his arms around Doran's torso, holding onto him, lest his inner turmoil swept his aside. He felt so fragile, so weak, and above all, tired of questioning the only person he had ever trusted.
"Pro--promise me that you will never comm--mmand me. That you will uhm...disable the thingy that does it."
"I can't disable it," Doran said, rocking Alex gently, running his fingers through his sandy curls. "It's against the law. But I will make sure to never use that feature. You have my word."
A weight lifted off Alex' heart upon hearing those words. Knots seemed to unravel within his muscles, and for a brief moment, he smiled, letting out a weak chuckle. "It's...it's godamn terrifying. It...freaking sucks."
"I know, I know," Doran said, slowly leading Alex to the couch.
His head spinning, his breath erratic due to the occasional snivel and hiccup, Alex welcomed the soft, steady surface of the couch, resting his head back and closing his eyes to sort himself out.
"Do you need anything?"
"Do you have them..." he wove his hand up and down, unable to find the word. "Blinders. Shutters. Whatever, for the small windows."
"Yeah. Engage cozy mode," Doran said, and the windows turned a matte black, the ambient lights fading into a light yellow tint.
"Hah. Didn't know you dislike the view."
"It turns the stomach. Things will be different when we are dragons, however. We'll no longer feel powerless high in the sky. If a malfunction happens, all you have to do is glide away to safety."
Alex nodded. Senses slowly returned to him, along with a debilitating nausea. "Get me something for the stomach, with water please."
"Coming right up."
Alex listened to the booted footfalls of Doran's steps, the cabin phonetically sealed to perfection. This whole charter plane was more like a flying living room. It had a wide screen TV above the minibar, food in the fridge, the customary dragon inspired toys that Doran always brought with him during vacations, magazines and devices in the drawers of the counter, and much, much more probably. Doran enjoyed luxury. More than that, he liked to flaunt the many features of his rides to his other friends, a constant war waged between rich people, where each of them tried to come up with new ways to impress--or aggravate--each other. Ridiculous...
"Here. Drink up and catch a nap. We'll be there in two hours."
"Two hours?" Alex asked before he gulped down the bitter water, grimacing from the nasty aftertaste of medicine. "Is your villa that far?"
"Not the villa. The landing zone. Somebody is going to drive us to our place."
"Why? What's the point? If you wanted a landing zone, you could have gotten one. I mean, isn't your plane similar to that of the X-men? Capable of hovering and shit?"
Whatever Doran put into his water, it muffled down Alex' senses, inducing a pleasant state of high. He settled onto his side, dragging a pillow under his head, trying to keep his eyelids from shutting.
"Nobody but Jim knows of our place, and I want it to remain this way. Enjoy your sleep, you high motherfucker."
Alex wasn't certain whether Doran actually said that. His mind swirled like a butterfly through fields of flowers, thoughts molding into one another, euphoric numbness filling his drained husk of a body. Faint laughter rolled past his lips, a wide grin plastered on his face.
"Doran, you....fking...." Alex trailed off, consciousness deserting him.
******
"Hey....hey....up. Get up. We'll be there in five minutes."
Alex groaned, moving his hands to rub his eyes, freezing stiff when a jacket fell on top of him.
"Take this with you, or put it on. The sun had already set, and it gets rather cold so far up north," Doran said, pulling back his cuff to glance at his watch.
"Wha...what the hell are you wearing?" At first, Alex opened a tentative eye, but he needed the other to make sure he hadn't just imagined this.
What the actual fuck... Doran? Wearing a hoodie?! It was a dark blue one, with simple looks and the logo of some natural reserve. He also switched his jeans for a rougher pair that frayed towards the heels of his sport shoes.
"Not that look. You're smarter, more capable than this."
"I'm...I'm not. Not right now," Alex said, rubbing his brow in failed attempt to soothe his dull headache.
"Mardo Corp knows I'm away. What they are not aware of, however, are my whereabouts, and I want things to remain this way. Now get up and come wait by the door with me. Our contact's already waiting for us."
"Fiiiine," Alex drawled, swaying through the small charter, dizzy and indisposed. He considered asking Doran a thing or two about their destination, but the plane lurched. It rocked back and forth for a brief moment, adjusting to the vertical hovering position before it finally landed. A voice burst into the cabin, announcing their arrival.
Doran opened the door, waiting for the stairway to slide out and bridge the plane to the ground, looking around.
"What do you think? Good choice of area, right?"
It didn't matter what Alex thought. The gust of crisp air chilled him to the bone, forcing him to put on the jacket and hold himself tight on the way down, where a fifty something years old or so man waited for them.
"Jim, this is Alex. Alex, this is Jim."
Alex shook the man's hand, looking at Doran while he did.
"I'm the guy responsible for the supply drops. I'll come by every week on a Saturday, with a truck I've been driving around for a decade, and never without announcing Doran beforehand. Satisfied kid?"
"Um, yeah," Alex replied, at a loss of words. He no longer cared to count the many times Doran had failed to properly explain his reasoning to him, assuming Doran even wanted Alex to know his thought process.
"Alright. Short introductions, just the way I like them. Follow me, then. Got the truck parked outside."
Jim had a rough but calm voice that mirrored his looks to perfection. Thin, short, greying hair covered his head and chin, with prominent furrows accentuating his brow. He had loose, wrinkled cheeks, like those of a bulldog, imposing eyebrows, and a constitution that hinted at a past military career. He wore a dark, woolen jacket over a black shirt, the collar loose, same for the cuffs. Mud caked his brown leather boots. Even with their thick soles, they did a poor job at keeping the mud from marring the surface of the leather.
Doran signaled something to the pilot, joining Jim shortly, conveniently forgetting about Alex. Already accustomed to this sort of reception, he allowed them to take the lead and whisper stuff to one another so that he could look around.
Moss and dirt grew on the heliport. Far in the back, some ruins stood out, and Alex thought he glimpsed a torn wire fence to the side, where overgrowth began to take over this place. Whatever this place was, it must have been abandoned a long time ago, because the concrete that made up the paths cracked and chipped and sunk a few centimeters into the ground, making the mud a real chore to avoid.
Jim had his truck parked in front of the steel gate. Rust covered the bars, flaking towards the upper parts. The oldie signaled Doran and Alex to get inside the vehicle while he closed the gate, fastening a thick chain around it, followed by a lock that he shut between two chain links.
"He was a corporal here at this base. It was a small one, nothing too fancy, but it trained some of the best pilots I've known," Doran said, occupying the front seat on the left of the driver.
Alex made himself comfortable in the back, looking past the window at the sky, admiring the fading orange streaks mingling with the violet hues of the evening. Jim joined them shortly, rotating the key in its socket, revving the engine to life.
"Got an hour's drive to your place, so there's plenty of time to get acquainted, share concerns, gossip, or whatever it is that you kids do these days."
He purposefully avoided turning on the radio, which only made Alex increasingly nervous. Whoever this guy was, he wanted nothing to do with him. He had no intention in getting to know him, much less talk about transformation related topics.
"So um, how will the supply runs work?" Alex was the first to broach this topic, and Jim, like a proper military figure, answered in that peculiar style of his.
"There is a passive part, restocking, and an active part, requests. Restocking's obvious. Requests can either be written on a list that Doran passes to me, or you give me a call at 5 PM on Saturday and tell me what you want. That's when I'm at the store."
"Fair enough. And I suppose Doran hauls them in?"
"He's going to become a dragon, not a pack mule kid. You leave the shelves and the fridge to me. Doran and I have already discussed this."
Right. His bad. Why would the unimportant one of the group be brought into matters that directly involved him? What bugged Alex the most, however, was that Doran had told him about the transformation. He could have concocted a convincing lie on the spot, but nooo, he had to tell the truth to some random grandpa!
"There is a small town called Glotzgar right here on the left." He tapped the window at a crossroads for emphasis. "From what I gathered, you're the more reserved kind, so it may be redundant information for you."
"It's not redundant," Doran chipped in. "Tell him."
Jim sighed, and eyed Alex through the rear view mirror. "I'm a local, buddy. Bred right here in Glotzgar. Been managing a few resorts before Doran gave me the job to bring his villa up to par, with only a handful of men to help out with the renovations. Why the secrecy? Because Doran asked me to. Why am I telling you this? Because you're going to be a feral, and the people of Glotzgar are very, very trigger happy. Dragon scales may be tough, but they're not interwoven Kevlar fabric type of tough. You fly where you're not supposed to, and you may get to find out how a bullet wound feels to a dragon."
Alex looked to the side, gritting his teeth. "I'm not going to fly into a human town. I'm not stupid."
"Nor are you a dragon yet. New body, new impulses, new temptations. Is it worth getting shot, just so you can piss on a boulder outside your territory in order to expand it? Food for thought."
It took a great deal of effort from Alex to keep from exploding. This glorified delivery boy wanted to sound grand and all-knowing, but he knew nothing about dragons. Of their behavior, needs, and last but not least, intelligence.
"As a dragon, I'll be every bit as sharp as a human. Even more so."
"Ohoho, I don't doubt that, but you have to be a responsible dragon."
"He's going to be one," Doran said. "I'll make sure of it. Now tell me of the reservation. How's it holding up?"
"Fully fenced with a low voltage electrical fence that annoys animals and kills those who touch it repeatedly. I made sure it knows that you guys enjoy your privacy, and that you don't fuck around. The only ones who can get in are birds, dragons, us three. That's all."
"Heard that?" Doran twisted his head towards Alex. "A huge patch of forest, just for our enjoyment."
Then, he turned towards Jim. "Did you weed out the large predators?"
"They won't bother you. There's enough game to hunt, and the ecosystem won't hurt too much. More importantly, it's a private reserve, so expect no surprise visits. I won't even ask about the favors you pulled in order to make Widowpeak a private reserve."
"Then don't, Jim. We own you. That's all you need to know."
"Fair enough. I get paid top dollar to ensure that two dragons remain undisturbed. You won't hear me complain or ask questions."
Alex spent the rest of the journey staring at the trees rolling by. Jim and Doran began reminiscing old times, discussed more details about the lodging, pushing the topic of dragons aside, much to Alex' relief.
Jim stopped his truck in front of another gate, this time a modern looking one that he opened via key card. The electric fence looked like a grid, nothing conspicuous, but tall enough to make a possible climb futile. Alex also noticed that the asphalt road switched to a dirt one past the fence, narrowing a tad as well.
After the gate slid shut behind them, the journey continued for another forty minutes or so, the numerous turns and inclines flaring his nausea. If it took them five more minutes to reach the clearing in the middle of which the villa was situated, Alex was certain he would have puked.
"Cheer up, kid. You're home," Jim said on his way out of the truck. "Everything's already in. Doors aren't locked, so feel free to stroll inside and explore."
After such a taxing day, Alex wanted to do anything but exploring. He shuffled towards the main entrance, shifting his gaze towards the garage to the left and the barn to the right, two absolutely useless additions to an otherwise imposing place. With his stomach threatening to unravel, Alex unlaced and kicked off his boots at the entrance, rushing towards the nearest couch to crash in.
What a day! What a shitty and beautiful day!
** ***End of Chapter 4*****
End note: Doran shows his manipulative, conniving side once again. Or does he? At this point, it's difficult to vilify him, given that Alex has proven time and time again that he's the sort of person that has a hard time owning up to his choices. It's also worth keeping in mind that Doran and Alex have been best friends for a very long time now, so Doran knows Alex enough to employ certain means in order to ensure Alex' happiness on the long term, even if that means a little bit of deception along the way. After all, doesn't every mother say to their child that they are the smartest, most beautiful person in the world to stoke their confidence?
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