Year of the Black Dragons - Chapter #2
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Chapter #2 - First Contact Lance and Frachsun pulled up aside a shoddy looking diner.
Through the grimy front window it was clear that many of the patrons were
toughened burly looking men. It did not seem like any place for a child but
Lance did not seem worried by it at all."I'm going to go in and get a plate of whatever they have.
I'll come back with something nice for you," Lance promised. "So wait here for me, kay?" With that, he
marched through the open doorway and vanished.It had been no longer than a minute after Lance had gone
into the diner when a feeling like he was being watched dawned upon Frachsun. The small dragon turned his head in time to see a scaled
dark tail whip around the corner of a nearby building. Frowning in suspicion,
Frachsun decided to find out who had been spying on him and set off after the
owner of that tail, turning the corner as well into a narrow alleyway. Fracshun carefully ventured deeper into the throat of the passage
and then stopped, staring. Ten metres up ahead was a dragon facing him and standing
still as if it had been waiting for Fracshun. Its appearance was unlike any
other had seen before. It had an aerodynamic form but its body was
powerfully built and a shade of darkest midnight - a telling feature of those
influenced by Black Draconium. It also had long, red stripe-like markings along
its well-toned limbs that linked up to an intricate and central red design
tattooed all over its back and across its lower body. Hearing movement behind him, Fracshun tried to rotate quickly
around but was too slow and received a hard blow that knocked him to the ground. Eyes rolling upwards, Frachsun saw a second Black dragon identical
in appearance to the first pinning him to the ground by the neck with a clawed
foot after having tackled him from behind. A thick, meaty tongue slinked out
from his ambusher's maw to slicken his chops. Bending low, the black dragon ran the flat of its curled
tongue up the strip of Fracshun's pinned neck while its long and thin reptilian
tail which had lured Fracshun into this predicament slowly coupled with
Frachsun's own limp macaw one, entwining it like a snake. Just then, however, a furious roar rent the air startling
the two black dragons who found themselves unexpectedly set upon upon by Beau
and Wyldfyr, accompanied by Artha and Kitt.Wyldfyr sent one of the black dragons skidding several
metres away from Frachsun by kicking it aside while Beau rammed the other using
the butt of his head to cast it off Fracshun. "Get out of here before it gets any worse for you!" Artha
shouted at them. The black dragons accepted his warning and reluctantly
slinked away, melting into the long shadows of the alleyway."Is Frachsun alright?" Kitt worriedly asked, as Artha slid
off Beau to check Lance's dragon for injuries. "I think so," Artha reported. "Good thing we spotted them
following Lance and Fracshun just after they left..." "Hey guys!" Lance chirped brightly as he strolled up to them,
holding a half-eaten sub sandwich. "Did you all come here to something to eat
as well...what?" he added, noticing the exasperation on everyone's faces.
"What? Did I miss something?" * * *Once again, the Penn Stables crew found themselves in
Mortis's Temple to discuss with him the latest on the black dragon crisis as
well as their very own encounter. "DC Security finished
combing through that factory in Work Town," Mortis grimly announced, "and they have
learned what that disturbing setup was for."His face briefly contorted as if he had consumed a mouthful
of something disgustingly bitter while the group waited for him to speak."It was a farm.""Farm? What farm?" Parm was not alone in his confusion. His
racing companions looked equally mystified."A dragon farm."Mortis's revelation was met by shocked silence as everyone
recalled how countless dragons had been bound and suspended in such a mistreating method. "You mean the sort of farm where dragons are held for the
sole purpose of breeding in order to create more soldiers for a dragon army?"
Artha sounded shaken. "Not exactly...How much do you all know about dragon biology?"
Mortis gingerly ventured, and was received by murmurs in varying tones of
ignorance. Mortis sighed and proceeded to explain."From their very birth, all dragons are blessed with one of
the many elements of Draconium that runs through their very bones. The element
of Draconium is instrumental in shaping the colour of their form as well as
their attributes.""Yeah, we know that much, already." Lance complained. "Draconium holds value as a source of power, especially for
us humans as it does not occur naturally within our body systems. But there has
been little in the way of success where scientists have attempted to harness
Draconium from dragons using several different ideas.""Is that what that farm was set up for? To harness
Draconium?""Most likely. And we think that they might have actually
succeeded," Mortis begrudgingly admitted."How did they do it?" By this point, Mortis was looking extremely uncomfortable,
choosing his words slowly and with deliberation. "The means are very...explicit.
From what DC Security have gathered, it would appear that the bones of a
dragon's body are not the only place where Draconium can be found inside them.
The person or people who built that factory probably stumbled upon traces of it
laced in their genetic material. It is also possible that this is the method by
which Draconium is passed down along a dragon's lineage, which would suggest
that Draconium may actually be hereditary. Furthermore, all the dragons that
were rescued from there were identified as male, so that would further support
the theory on the role that genetics play in all this." "Wait...so you're saying that that
factory was..." Kitt clapped her hands over her mouth, unable to articulate the
horror of her thoughts. "It is exactly what you think it is." Mortis's eyes roamed
over to Lance and widened as if he had only just noticed the boy, who looked
like he had just been served a lifetime's worth of trauma. "Oh. Sorry. I probably
should have told you to cover your ears for that one beforehand." "So all those different dragons we saw at that place there..."
Artha said, slowly."Each element of Draconium has its own unique properties.
They were probably intending to farm as many different types of Draconium as
they possibly could," Mortis replied. "As to what they are planning to actually
do with the Draconium that they harvest from the dragons, well, your guess is
as good as mine." "This is wrong!" Artha angrily burst out. "Dragons aren't
supposed to be used like this! They're not supposed to be exploited like some oil
field just for their Draconium." "Do you have any good news for us, like where we might be
able to find those responsible for building that farm so we can shut them
down?" Parm asked, sardonically."No. But as for that farm you found, it isn't just the one.
DC Security have confirmed that an additional seven farms have been discovered
throughout Dragon City. They've said that we've probably only scratched the
surface and it's highly likely that we'll find even more." * * *"Damn him!" Kitt cursed to
herself. Two days after the most recent
meeting with Mortis, she and Wyldfyr were back on the track and were now in the
middle of a fierce street race, currently in second place and hot on the heels
of the human-dragon pair coming first. However, no matter how hard they contested,
they could not surpass their opponents who were doing everything in their power
to prevent Kitt and Wyldfyr from stealing the top spot.Kitt and Wyldfyr closed in on
their targets, a young male rider with blonde hair and his orange Control-Class
dragon.The rider glimpsed their
shortening proximity over his shoulder and as both teams flashed past a
construction site, he had his dragon fire a Mag-Burst Grenade into a formation
of upright planks that were supporting a platform on which a shipping crate was
sitting. The grenade went off and blew
apart the planks like scattering dominoes. The platform tipped and the crate
keeled over and burst open to spew out a large quantity of industrial barrels. The first barrel ricocheted off
the ground at an angle to bounce straight toward Kitt's head. Narrowly ducking
the incoming missile, she and Wyldfyr swerved and weaved their way boldly
through the asteroid field of rolling and flying cylinders that followed. After getting clear of the
makeshift hurdles, Wyldfyr hunched low and accelerated with a spurt of speed,
easily gaining on their slower rivals and significantly reducing the distance
that had been built between them within a few seconds. Pursuing the present victors-to-be
into a hairpain turn, Kitt had Wyldfyr bank hard; hoping to slip past them in
the inner curve but their competitor flawlessly shut them out, leaving no
opening for them to overtake. No matter how many times Wyldfyr
attempted to pass the other dragon, they would be skillfully blocked at every
juncture, and each time the crimson dragon would spit out a growl of
frustration. Kitt decided that it was time to
resort to a different tactic. "Let's hit up our usual shortcut and use that to
overtake them!" she shouted.Wyldfyr veered away to the side
and with a single bound he cleared the safety barricades that lined the
boundaries of the main track, springing up onto a thick and sturdy metal pipe
that was latched onto a neighbouring building and ran parallel to the circuit.
He followed the pipe around the circumference of the building to its other side
and jumped off, landing on another raceway which Kitt knew to cut straight to
the final stretch of the race. About halfway toward the end, right
after a sharp bend, the path unexpectedly gave way to a large gap at least ten
metres long as if a great slice had been carved out of the highway. Wyldfyr immediately slammed on
the brakes by digging his claws into the concrete, skidding with a screech and
gouging long scratches into the asphalt like tire marks but they had been going
too fast and the giant chasm was already much too close.Kitt and Wyldfyr slid straight
off the edge where the track ended to tumble down into the waiting pit below
and there were two loud thuds. Nothing happened for a while, and
then two black shadows that were veined in scarlet emerged from different
hiding places close by to inspect the casualties. The motionless figures of Kitt
and Wyldfyr lay next to each other.* * *As Wyldfyr's senses returned one
by one, the Magma-Class dragon twitched awake to the noise of clanking metal
and the startling din of fellow dragons screaming. With a start of surprise, he peered up and
found himself hanging upside down; chained by the ankles of his sturdy hind
legs from a steel rack attached from the ceiling by more iron chains. He had
been stripped of all racing gear.His attention was drawn by the sound of terrified whimpering coming from many other
dragons miserably shackled right way up with their limbs chained behind them at
evenly spaced increments along the same rack making a morbid queue that
stretched in either direction, twisting and winding its way around the entire
building. It was an eerily familiar scene to Wyldfyr. However, this wasn't even
the worst part.At
various points along the rack, strung up dragons were having horrific, inhumane
things being done to them. It was like something out of a nightmare. At one
station, rumbling wails dripped from the lolling muzzles of four or five helpless
dragons as scientific instruments resembling oxygen masks had been applied to
the tender valley between their chained and spread thighs directly over their
male sheaths. In a
different corner, others had their necks locked in place to prevent head
movement while being force fed from a row of gigantic animal drip bottles with
an unidentifiable liquid that seeped out in dripping streaks from the edges of
their mouths which were tightly wrapped around the tube tips. Somewhere
further down the queue, dragons that were having their bodies thoroughly
examined by machines squealed like gutted swine as they were poked and prodded
in every orifice with sharp and spindly instruments attached to rotating mechanical
arms. Heavy
fumes of that tropical saltiness Wyldfyr had been assailed by when he had set
foot in that other grisly factory he had found with Beau and the human crew was
here everywhere too and he now finally understood why it had induced unusual feelings
in him back then. It was the smell of feral male arousal.