Call Me Fire

Author's note: This story is unfinished TERROR. No other emotion could be purer than it. It was uncomplicated, easily understood, and straightforward. It was tasteless, but it did have a sound. Screams. Hundreds of it that were resonating in every narrow street of Escovia. It was in the choking breaths of the mortals as they tried to run as fast as they could -- scrambling, falling on their knees, and eventually getting stomped to death by other mortals who were wanting to escape too. It didn't have any shape, but it did have a color. It was red, just like the glow reflecting in every child's eyes while being cradled by their mothers. Mortal parents were doing all they could to calm their children while watching Escovia's midnight turn even brighter than its day.  Poor mortal Escovians learned what terror felt like against their skins too. It was scorching and enough to boil the blood inside their veins. The air was thick with the scent of burning flesh and smoke as it scratched their lungs—some of the scents from their friends and some from other mortals they may or may not know. "Make way for the king!" a knight's voice barely made it through the chaos. It was coming from the direction of the castle, half-fallen with three towers missing. Behind him was the giant flag used to signify the glory of Escovia. A sad piece of fabric losing its battle. It was in flames, beautifully illuminating the broken walls where it hung. It was the prettiest backdrop for a grand funeral scene with hundred of soldiers either dead or about to die in a matter of seconds. " Make way for the king!" he screamed again, riding his horse as he assisted the royal carriage where the king sat. His metal battle suit was glowing, burning his skin silently, but he didn't mind. He pledged his life to the kingdom, and it was honorable to save the king.  "I said, make way for the king of Escovia. Move and give way..." his voice faded when a growl shook the remaining walls of the castle. Then even before he had the chance to pull his sword, a ball of fire as big as the royal carriage flared in the sky.  "Heaven have mercy on us..." were the only words that slipped his mouth when the ball of fire moved in the direction of where he and the king were. They should run. That was the logical thing to do.  But the fear that consumed him already knocked all the bravery he had left, leaving him even stiffer than the beheaded statue of the king in their town square. "Heaven have mercy," he repeatedly murmured as his green eyes watched the ball approached. "Heaven have --No!" The explosion that cut him off was both so loud and powerful. It wiped the whole royal entourage in a flash. It made one side of the castle fall heavily to the ground, sending dust clouds into the air. It was then that the red sky growled, commanding all the mortals to succumb more to the paralyzing fear. It was deafening as it echoed against every corner of Escovia, momentarily stopping the gruesome stampede of the mortals. "Give it back!" Then again, there was an explosion, and again, and again, like fireballs were being catapulted from the sky. It made not just the heaven redder, but the ground too - with mortal blood. Screams choked the whole place after what seemed like a torturous forever. "Give it back!" With the steam rising from the ground and swirling clouds above, the mortals of Escovia saw what terror exactly looked like when a giant shadow took shape behind the blaze. It chilled them to the bone but then melted their skin with just its heavy breathing. Graceful as it descended with the strongest gust of wind from its wings, the dragon's claws broke the stiffest concrete they made when it landed.  "Give it back!"  The beast never moved its mouth. However, everybody heard its demand like it was talking inside their head. They all gawked in terror, yet no one dared to close their eyes. The huge bleeding hole in his scaly chest had them all shaking, but no one dared to run. With its merciless orbs, the majestic dragon scanned the ocean of mortals and ignored the pool of blood running down its scales. There were bodies beneath his feet, crushed when he started marching over the stunned mortals. Tens. Hundreds. Until everybody lost count of how many died, realizing how fragile their mortal bones were.  And as though the beast wasn't satisfied yet, it growled louder inside their heads, taking more lives when it breathed fire on any random soul that blocked its way.  "Give it back!"   "B-but we don't know the wizard's name!" a brave soul screamed from the crowd. Although stuttering, the mortal's voice was loud enough for the dragon to turn, destroying more houses when its strong tail moved with it.  The one who screamed was an older man, probably a bit over sixty, who was struggling to keep his weight on top of his trembling knees. He was wiping his face with his dirty sleeve, mixing his tears and sweat with the soil and dust covering his wrinkles. He was a peasant, just like all the other terrified mortals around him.  "W-we don't know the name of the sorcerer. Nobody knows him. We're begging you!" The mortal knelt, kissing the floor as he wept helplessly. "I swear nobody knows him. Believe us. We never betrayed you. You have to believe us, Arag--argh!" The dragon didn't let the mortal finished his name.  One second there was a man who dared to talk back to him, and the next, there was only a shrieking torch, melting and decaying in flames. He watched it took a few anguish steps before falling on the floor, turning into nothing but seething ashes. Tonight's betrayal was brutal. The dragon had loved these mortals more than himself for hundreds of years, after all.  But the worst, he couldn't feel his heart cringing inside his chest anymore whenever he heard their cry. He lost it.  He literally lost it... . . .