Global war erupts and devastation soon follows. Willis is now forced to survive in the aftermath of nuclear fallout – accompanied by a rather peculiar companion.

(At the moment, this story preview does not have any formatting – this means character thoughts aren't differentiated from plain text.)

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The End Of The End [Dragon vore]

I wake up with a start; early mornings have always been my thing – I find it rather lucky that I’m able to awaken immediately. Getting out of the simple white bed, I move through the narrow doorway. Now, I’ve arrived in a slightly larger metallic box. The bunker only consisted of two rooms – a smaller bedroom and a larger ‘common’ room. Opening one of the cupboards, a countless number of green packages sift between my fingers. This is until the label of one in particular catches my eye: steak. I liberate the package from the cupboard and unceremoniously eat the salty block inside.
Deciding to have a little more hope today than usual, I walk over to the small desk in the corner. On it sits a simple radio with a separate microphone. I flick the power switch on the back of the radio and am met with a green light from different parts of the radio face. The soft hue of the light radiates over the surface of my face, charging on further to fight the stronger warm light beaming from the lamp on the roof of the metal box. A harsh storm of static also fills the atmosphere, disturbing what little peace was left in the before-still room. I manipulate a dial back and forth, tuning the frequency of the receiver. During my already fleeting feeling of hope, however, I managed to catch the sound of a voice.
Without a second to spare, I quickly turned the dial back and heard the voice again. With frantic precision, I tuned the receiver so that I could hear her voice clear as day. “...way to communicate, any way at all. If you’ve got short wave, long wave, a telegraph, dial-up, smoke signals, two cups and a string. Anything... I can help you.”
...I can help you.
I quickly moved the microphone over to my mouth and held the large button on the base of it. “Hello-! This is Willis – I live in the town called Vykre. Can you hear me?”
I heard an excited gasp from the other side of the frequency, followed by some clattering and shifting. “Yes! I’m Jo; I’m a military communications operator. If you could give me your location, I can send an airdrop filled with provisions to help you survive until we’re organised enough to send you some proper help.”
“Really?” I chirped in elation.
“Yes; you said you live in Vykre?” “Y-yea, it’s a smaller town.”
“Can you spell that for me...?”
“Uh... victor-yankee-kilo-romeo-echo.”
“Could you give me some information about your situation – is anyone with you, where are you currently, are you in any kind of danger – those questions?”

“Well, I’m currently by myself; I’m surviving in an underground bunker underneath my house; I’m not injured or anything – hell, I’m good on food and water for a while still too.”
“That’s good to hear; do you know if any people from the town have survived?”
My smile dropped – since the air-raid warnings and subsequent explosions from enemy air-strikes, I had not once stopped to think about the other people of my town. Many faces now flashed before my eyes – names ringing in my ears. Could I have saved them, at least one of them?
“...hello? Are you still with me?”
“Yea... I-- uh, I haven’t checked above-ground yet. I’m not sure of who survived, if anyone did – I don’t know how much damage was caused to the town either.”
“I probably should have told you this sooner, but you won’t have to worry about radiation. From the intel we’ve received of enemy dirty-bomb landing sites, the nearest one to your town is at least a hundred miles to the East.”
“Okay, thanks for the heads-up. So, what do I have to do for this airdrop?”
“What you’ll want to do is find a marker. That could be a flare gun, or a road-flare – just something that can be seen with ease from the air. Once you find yourself a marker, return to this frequency and let me know. From there, I can coordinate an airdrop for you. All you have to do is ignite the marker in an open area, and the provisions are yours. Oh, you wouldn’t happen to already have a marker, would you?”
“No... I will have to go to the surface and find one.”
“Alright, then; I suggest to start with cars – they’ll likely have a flare or flare gun, and they’re easy to break into.”
“Okay. Thank you so much for this – I really thought I’d be alone from when those bombs dropped.”
“Good luck!”
I turn off the radio and sink into my chair – as if the weight of the situation was physically on my shoulders; I also just needed a moment to think. On one hand, the entire town has most likely been levelled by rocket volleys and left no survivors. And, on the other, I’m now a simple step away from getting a military care-package. I don’t know if this is some form of luck or not... I will soon have a huge excess of provisions – yet, I very well could be the only survivor. With indecision and a heavy melancholy, I press my eyes closed. I try to empty my mind, but indirectly intensify the thoughts I’m trying to avoid.
In frustration, I will myself to be productive – instead of lying motionless in my chair and feeling sorry for myself. I walk over to the ladder and pick up a backpack

posted on the floor next to it. Reaching the top of the ladder, I open the hatch for the first time since I locked myself down here. The soft patter of rain cuts into the atmosphere of my bunker just before I close the hatch and return the air to silence.
“Guess I’ll need the poncho.” I say to no one in particular, as I disembark the ladder and remove the backpack from my shoulders. I walk back to the chair and remove the dark-coloured poncho from it; now, fully protected from the moisture of the rain and with the reapplication of my pack, I return to the ladder and manipulate the hatch.
Fully opening the hatch and squinting through the hazy mist, I find that my home has been reduced to an unorganised pile of debris. With an uncharacteristic indifference, I exit through the hatch and close it when I reach the destroyed concrete floor of what was the garage. I give myself a second to examine the other houses down the street through the rain. I take a few steps forward for a better look, but I still can’t make out the usual geometric silhouettes of the houses. Shifting my eyes towards the road and lawns of peoples’ properties, I find large gaping holes carved into the ground.
With my hope ungratified, I make my way out the rubble and begin a trek down the miserable street. It takes me less than a minute to hear the hollow tapping of rain on metal, and find a car fortunate enough to not have been destroyed. I swing my pack around my shoulders and reach into it to retrieve my survival knife; using the butt-end of the knife, I shatter the side-window of the car and reach through to unlock the door. Immediately, I search the glovebox, but find nothing of use. I don’t grant myself a feeling of disappointment, though, as I know there will be many more empty gloveboxes yet to come.
Leaving the first car behind, I move further down the road. A pit in my stomach forms as I observe the desolation caused by the many bombs dropped on this town; my mind wanders a little too far, as I begin to imagine what would have happened on that day – I didn’t stick around long enough to witness and retreated to my small bunker at the first sign of danger. Immediately, guilt boils within me as I move to the next vehicle; the rain only amplifies my feelings of discontent.
This time, I come across a ute. I approach the window with my knife and motion a strike at its center; however, my hand passes right through the door. With a chuckle and shake of my head, I reinforce my mental resolve and try to stop formulating thoughts so I can focus on my current task. I reach through the window and open the door – the glovebox of this vehicle is empty too.
I notice that I’m already shivering, so I enter the car and close the door – a minute amount of rain makes it through the window. With my backpack on my lap, I open it and pull out a small book. I flick to the first black page in the journal and retrieve a pen from my pack.
The rain is such a curious phenomenon. It instigates so many contradictory feelings, that it eventually overloads one with emotions to the point that they become detached from their original mental sensations in record time. I wish that

I could hold onto the thoughts it procures from me, without them creating such a strong reaction.
I spontaneously close the journal and return it to my bag, leaving me to observe the endless downpour of rain through the windshield. But, something catches my eye. Through the rain, I spot the unmistakable shape of a building – it turns out one did survive.
I kick the door of the ute open and hop off the seat – sustaining a slow jog over to the building. I come up to a dull-coloured door with a ‘NO ENTRY’ sign on it. I twist the cold door knob and find that – without a lick of resistance – it turns and the door cracks open. I pull the door free from the building and step inside of it; not a blister of light ignites the room. I kneel to the ground and acquire a flashlight from my bag, raising back to my full height and illuminating the room. There’s a chaotic mess of boxes everywhere – drinks and packets of snacks are spilled all over the floor with torn up cardboard boxes joining the pile of clutter.
I close the door behind me and cautiously step through the shambles of cheap treats. I finally reach the door on the other side of the room, it has a white laminated sheet taped to it with various names and times – it’s probably a roster. Opening this door, I look into the main body of what I now find is a gas station. I’ve never seen it this messy before... I think with a sense of sarcasm. On the other side of the counter I’m currently behind, there’s a mass of products lining the store in disarray mirroring the room behind me. Many shelves have been turned to their sides and just about every item that was once for-sale now has its place on the floor somewhere.
I leave the doorway and continue to flash my light through the store, but a gleaming reflection from the corner of my eye captures my attention. I turn to my right and find a metal box – a safe! In elation, I drop to my knees in front of the safe and examine it. It has a simple combination wheel centered on the door. Again, I gain a heightened feeling of excitement – these would have to be the easiest ones to unlock.
I put my left ear right up to the wheel and try to ignore the sounds of rainfall above and around me; though, the shattered windows make that relatively difficult. I now slowly turn the wheel, listening to clicks as it moves past each number. I only get past four clicks, before the fifth sounds much deeper than the others. I begin spinning it in the opposite direction now, hoping that the next number won’t be too far away. After roughly a dozen more clicks I find another that sounds much deeper than the rest; with the second number found, I try the handle of the safe. It doesn’t budge. I spin the wheel in the initial direction, only getting three clicks in before the distinctive click is heard. I try the handle again, and this time it opens.
I pull my head away from the door of the safe and open it fully. A few stacks of cash sit on the bottom shelf of the safe; on the top shelf, there is a small, thin box of cardboard with indistinctive writing. I remove it from the safe and find that it’s a box of buckshot shells. With newfound curiosity, I move my head to look under the counter and find a slightly scratched-up, wood-furniture, sawed-off double-

barrel shotgun. Seeing no need in having a shotgun, I return the shells to the safe and leave only with the achievement of being able to open it.
Making my way past the counter, I begin to trudge through the dark disorder of commercial products – keeping an eye out for anything useful. Every few steps I stop and kneel into the mess, feeling around for something that’s still intact. I get to the other side of the counter and analyse the shelves of sweets under it. Most of them are broken with chocolate and candy bars spilled onto the floor. Upon seeing their poor condition, I decide against taking any – even if they’re still unopened. I don’t want to risk anything, especially if I already have all the provisions I need.
I make it to a flipped over shelf that houses automotive products around it. Eagerly, I rummage through the wild assortment for a road-flare. But, all I can find are various steel tools, oil lubricants and spilled antifreeze. In further disappointment, I stand up and begin looking around the store again.
After my light makes a full circuit around the store, I hear a pile of mess near the counter gently shift. My flashlight quickly flicks to the source of the sound; I find the pile subtly rising and falling. A feeling of hope begins within me – there are other survivors. With a cautious haste, I trudge through the rubble toward the person – watching every step I take to make sure I don’t fall over. I reach the stirring pile; without hesitation, I extend a hand towards it in assistance. But, as soon as my hand contacts part of a destroyed shelf, a low growling resonates from the heap.
Slowly, I begin to back away; as I progress further back, the mass raises further upwards. I shiver as the shadow of a creature appears to rise from the debris. A sharp gasp escapes my mouth when a radiant pair of almost glowing, green eyes pierce through the darkness. The eyes approach me, extending their grasp of my form. Instinctively, I begin to move backwards in fear. It only takes a few haste steps for me to find my back pressed up against a wall; I also notice the, now, deafening silence – the creature had stopped growling. With apprehension, I tentatively raise the flashlight to the form of the creature. As soon as the beam of white-light contacts the fur of the creature, it dissipates – creating a soft glow from in front of me. Fear only continued to collect within me as I discovered the predatory nature of the creature.
In almost every way, did it resemble a dragon. The talons on each digit; the ferocious muzzle; a mouth lined with pointed teeth; two wings folded on its back. With caution in the wind, I drop the flashlight in pure terror. Now, I only see the dark vignette of my misty surroundings and the soft illumination of the dragon’s eyes. It stops only a few feet in front of me; I watch as its head rises and falls – as its intelligent, green eyes study and examine me. Soon enough, the creature pauses with a simple gaze right into my own eyes.
It’s... indescribable; almost as if I’m looking at a person. Behind those eyes, I can see questions – thoughts. The creature stares at me with an intense curiosity, it feeds me with the slightest feeling of relief. The silence between us is then broken, as the dragon makes a peculiar sounding noise. It’s almost like a higher

pitched growl – relatively short. I just continued to return the creature’s ardent stare, waiting to see what its intentions are.
The dragon waits for a little bit; I did too – in anticipation. Then, it made another noise. This time, it sounded more like a chirp. Again, I’m not sure what its goal here is. It takes a step forward, causing me to exhale sharply. Another noise leaves the creature; this time it had managed to scare me more. It sounded like a raspy voice – one of a person. Though, it didn’t say a proper word – just another weird and random noise.
“Uh...” The dragon seemed to react in surprise from my reply, making the noise again.
“Um, what are you?” I asked quietly. It recessed for a second, then voiced a series of short growls. The dragon looked back up at me expectantly after stopping; I continued to stare in fear and disbelief. It took another step forward – I backed further into the wall, wincing in preparation. After a moment of ill-movement, I cracked an eye open to find that the dragon had now shifted off to the side. I removed myself from the wall with careful prudence, the creature didn’t even flinch. Seeing my opportunity, I break into a sprint – leaping through to window and into the foreboding, stormy day.
My legs carry me faster than ever have before down the damp street; shadows seem to follow me everywhere. Desperately, I constantly look to either side and behind myself. In every corner of my vision, there is a persistent shadow that pursues. I only make a few haste steps down the road before needing to raise my arm in front of my eyes. Come on, come on, come on; give me a landmark! I continue to sprint through the storm, looking for any sign that I’m heading in the right direction while running from an enemy that seems to be everywhere.
Coinciding with a flash of lightning, I speed past the truck from before. Hope collects as I find I’m escaping in the right direction. However, the lightning – and consequent thunder – only depict an amplifying storm. I’ve got to get home before that lightning gets any closer. With each step the rain only intensifies, causing my legs and torso to feel as if they’re burning as each pellet of frozen rain finds me.
With another crack of thunder and flash of lightning, I find the car from before; quickly flicking my eyes further onward during the flash, I manage to find the debris of my home. With renewed determination, I begin to fight more vigorously through the hail. Another half-a-minute of sprinting through the storm rewards me with the approach of my house. As soon as my feet contact with the loose rubble, I slow down to a walk and navigate towards the bunker. While it’s hard to find without a flashlight, I eventually stumble over the hatch. Without any caution, I open the hatch and throw myself down the ladder – into the bunker. With the entrance sealed, the only sound to be heard is the ambient dripping of water off my clothes.
I immediately shed the cold poncho and throw it into a corner to dry, also sitting the backpack next to the ladder; I sit myself in the chair in front of the radio, shivering. I hug myself in an attempt to grow warmer. I would chuck on a jacket,

but I don’t want to get any more of my clothes wet. Once my shivering becomes less intense, I direct my attention to the radio. I have to tell them – to warn them of these new creatures.
I turn the radio on and begin to tune it. Unlike last time, however, no female voice cut into the atmosphere; there was just deafening static. For more than a few minutes, I turned the tuning dial back and forth in hopes of reaching the operator. But, regardless of the time I spent looking, I still couldn’t reach her – or anyone. “How convenient...” I sigh in frustration as I lean back into my chair.
Thoughts race through my head as I stare at the ceiling. Do I continue looking for a flare, or wait until I can get a hold of the operator and see what she has to say? The creature – whatever it was – didn’t seem to be too hostile towards me. Maybe if I just keep my distance, it’ll do the same and leave me alone- Feeling pain begin to form in my back and shoulders from the poor posture, I walk over to my bed and lay down. Staring at the ceiling again, I expect to continue asking and thinking; but, instead, I am met with the sudden closing of my eyes and well- warranted rest.
I slowly awaken; my vision is blurry and I can feel a slight, lingering headache. I sit up on my bed and look mindlessly at the ground, taking a few seconds to orientate myself. Once I can see well enough, I rise from the bed and walk over to a shelf
– flicking through all the preservatives and MREs. I eventually eventually acquire one and sit down in the chair to eat it. I also turn on the radio and slowly tune through each frequency; still nothing. After cycling through the frequencies a few times, I get up from the chair and walk over to the ladder.
I still need a marker. Even though that creature is somewhere up there, I have to continue looking. It didn’t seem too aggressive before; maybe I can just try to avoid it and it’ll leave me alone. I put on the poncho and throw a single backpack- strap over my shoulder; now climbing the ladder. I open the hatch and climb out of the bunker, sealing it behind me and immediately kneeling down. The rain has completely stopped now, leaving me with some light; though, it is still overcast. I take off my bag and open it, searching through it for my knife – just in case.
Before I could find the knife, however, a rather loud sound behind me surfaced. I quickly stood up and flicked around to find myself – once again – confronted by the creature. I leaped in my spot and made a sound of fearful terror upon seeing the dragon; in reaction to my fright, the dragon also made a small jump. Once my feet were back on the ground, I immediately began to walk backwards – away from the dragon. But, it started growling at me again – it’s luminous, green eyes narrowed and pierced my being, giving me the command to stay.
Apprehensively, I discontinued my retreat and instinctively raised my hands; the creature tilted its head and gave a quiet chirp. I managed to calm myself a little as it stopped growling and seemed to become less tense. The dragon then casually approached me, seeming to have no fear in my presence – unlike me. My eyes darted all across its form; the creature had a certain beauty to it. Across its entire body was a dark, black fur; perfect for blending in at night. However, peculiarly,

its underbelly was coloured white. My attention was returned to the dragon’s head as it chirped again and lifted one of its paws; much to my surprise, it used a claw to gently tap one of my raised hands. I flinched a little at the touch, due to my close proximity to the creature. However, its apparent mildness gives me a small feeling of hope – that it will spare me and leave me alone.
The dragon tapped my hand once more; I could see its curiosity flare up from behind its eyes. However, my curiosity was extinguished as it neared its head to me, sniffing loudly. I awkwardly stood as still as I could – with my hands unfaltering in their elevation. It was almost like being searched for weapons by a security guard – a pat-down-check of sorts. The dragon inhaled large wafts of air from my chest, then arms and hands; it then moved uncomfortably close to my face.
I felt its warm and stifling exhales gust vigorously onto the surface of my head, as it made room for more air in its lungs. Then, it stopped – I could see a settled resolve in its effulgent, green eyes after working up enough courage to reopen mine. I didn’t calm, however, after seeing the creature had successfully satisfied its curiosity. In its eyes, I saw... determination. Curiosity from the creature, I can manage; curiosity would – for the most part – be harmless to me. But, determination is something potentially damaging to me. Determination means there’s a strong intention – an intention the dragon will inescapably follow through with. Determination occurs in the presence of a desire, and an unmistakable want for that desire. Determination means the dragon has a fear that its desire may not be easily met; and that can only mean it’s a desire I won’t like.
Again, I slowly back away from the large and powerful creature – two features that I’m just now being reminded of. Although, any movement made by me now is lesser than an inconvenience to the beast. The dragon reaches a paw out to me; not at some blistering or aggressive speed, but it didn’t have the same ginger and slow curiosity as before. Seeing the paw, I stumbled back in an attempt to dodge the limb. But, instead, I lost balance and my back came into contact with the rough, rubble-littered ground.
I groaned a little in dismay, a slight pain rising parallel with my spine. The dragon held no mercy or respite upon seeing and hearing my anguish; but, rather, taking it as an opportunity to pin me against the ground with the same paw that it used to advance on me moments earlier. I shivered in fear, staring at the dragon with pleading eyes. It seemed to take a moment – its radiant, green eyes once more gazing curiously at me; maybe it’s trying to read my expression.
The dragon soon interrupts the moment by pawing at my poncho; it seemed to figure out that the poncho wasn’t a part of my body, and – rather – a loose article of clothing. It pulled the poncho over my head, relieving its paw for a moment to do so. However, I dared not move – I still held fear of what the dragon’s intention was, and knew that I wouldn’t be able to escape. Once my poncho was removed, it parted its jaw to reveal a carnivorous maw. I shivered and tried to sink behind the dragon’s paw; but, the creature had me pinned firmly in my current position. The beast advanced its maw towards my face slowly, and – seemingly – with anticipation. It wasn’t long before a saliva-covered tongue contacted my cheek,

causing me to exert a fearful gasp. “Wait! Please-- please don’t eat me.” Even attempting to talk to the dragon – for the first time, this encounter – didn’t slow its gradual approach.
Finally, the mouth of the beast had reached my head. It was an utterly terrifying and somewhat weird experience. With my eyes closed tight, I felt as its tongue dragged across my face and neck. It didn’t take long before my head pressed up against the back of its throat. I would have to be the perfect-sized meal for this dragon; a morsel sizable enough to be remarkably filling, yet still weak and small enough to overpower and force down its throat. As I felt the strong throat-muscles suck me down further toward the dragon’s stomach, and my upper-torso had made it past the dragon’s teeth – I came to the realisation that it hadn’t yet harmed me.
I haven’t been cut by its claws or teeth – the beast had only made efforts to ingest me whole. I then came to another – possibly worse – realisation; I am going to be digested alive- Figuring this out was enough motivation for me to begin struggling; although, I never made any movements. The reason why I haven’t been struggling this entire time, is because there simply wasn’t any point. There’s no reason to start now, with half of my body down its throat. I simply idly waited for the dragon to completely eat me, trying not to think an awful lot about the situation. Though, the feeling was almost surreal. The sensation of being eaten would have to be the most comfortable and relaxing thing I have ever felt. As weird as it is to admit in thought, I could definitely enjoy this if I knew I’d live past it.
After a relatively long and sensual journey down the throat of the beast, I was completely piled up in its stomach. Immediately after I had completed my incursion into the dragon, it began moving to a different location. Of course, I couldn’t tell where – not having any sense of direction in the cramped and humid space. Due to the slimy walls of the stomach, the only position I could manage was slumping myself down with my back at the bottom of the organ. There seemed to be a shallow pool of saliva, too. Regardless of the somewhat unpleasant smell – the lukewarm liquid felt very nice on my skin. The whole experience, rather, had only felt congenial.
The insides of the dragon contained a warmth like no other. It wasn’t the dry heat of the sun or of a fire, nor was it the scalding and omnipresent feeling of a hot shower. The heat produced by the creature was of the perfect degree; warming me in a most gentle way. The moisture and humidity – while making breathing a harder and less pleasant task – created a more relaxing environment. A part of me found itself to be grateful for the dragon not simply killing me and then eating me – for I wouldn’t have had this experience. However, with the topic of being eaten fresh in my mind once more, I dreaded the inevitable time when I would feel the pain of being eaten by the natural acid of the beast’s stomach.
With the foolish hope that I could avoid such agony, I set myself the task of falling asleep. It only took a few minutes of feeling the creature’s rhythmic steps before my eyes were comfortably closed, and drowsiness took over.

Thumping, moisture, heat, humidity, growling, groaning, shifting; noises and sensations too strong for my mind young in consciousness. Still feeling tired and not quite awake, I use my hands to properly evaluate my immediate surroundings. I don’t have to extend them too far, as they immediately squelch into warm, squishy, slimy walls. The mere sensation reminds me of the events that transpired last time I was awake. I tense up. Once more I assess my surroundings; but, this time, I know the feeling I’m looking for. Relief soon follows as I don’t feel any burning or itching – even tingling.
I feel the owner of the stomach move – perhaps I woke it up with my own movements. I tense up again, thinking the worst: that I had awoken it, and now it will begin to digest me. Instead of the untimely excretion of acid into the area, the walls resolutely contract upon me. It becomes far more tight in the space, I find it much harder to move – let-alone breathe. The stomach then compacts in a more orderly fashion, seeming to guide my legs – with the rest of my body following – in a particular direction.
Due to just waking up and spending what has probably been hours in this cramped space, I’ve lost all sense of direction. Consequently, I have no idea where the beast is sending me. Whether that’s – for whatever reason – back up its throat; or – more likely – into another organ that will digest me. I continue being forced in the still unknown direction, until I make it to a more open space. Here, I find the dragon’s tongue and teeth in the darkness. So, perhaps, it will spare me.
Light then floods into its mouth, as the dragon opens its jaws; and, a single moment later, I’m unceremoniously dropped onto a hard concrete floor. I blink a few times as my eyes adjust to the light. Once my vision is restored, I look in front of me to find the creature’s head mere inches away from mine. With a near inhuman speed, I dash back until my spine reaches a wall. The scene causes me to momentarily flash-back to when I first met the dragon; as, once again, I’m backed up against the wall with nowhere to go.
The dragon gingerly shifts over to me. While my heart still beats out of my chest, I manage to find a bit of confidence this time; the dragon hasn’t killed me yet, even with multiple opportunities to do so easily and without a second thought. The dragon positions its head directly in front of my – much smaller – body. “Uh... hi.” I chuckle nervously as I try to return the dragon’s intense gaze. It then chirps quietly and nuzzles me in the chest area before I have time to react to such a close proximity. The creature withdraws and I find myself relaxing somewhat; its tenderness managed to calm me down – give me hope that it won’t kill me.
Now that I’m not solely focused on the dragon, I take a moment to find out exactly where I am. I seem to be in another destroyed house; or, rather, the garage of another destroyed house – this being evident with the concrete floor that I’m currently sitting on. Surprisingly enough, the walls of the garage are still holding up. While their greatest height is only about half of their original length, they still provide decent shelter from the wind and concealment from the outside world. I then return my attention to the dragon as it steps over a smaller portion of a garage wall. It looks back to meet my gaze and holds a regard of expectance – an

expression I’m now able to decipher from its eyes. Needing no further incentive, I rise to my feet and follow the creature – not wanting to cause a complication.
We make it down the driveway – I still try to keep a decent distance between myself and the dragon. It then makes a left down a road I don’t recognise. I move to follow it – also noticing the many intact cars that line the road. I begin searching each one; checking the glovebox, backseat and trunk – if it’s unlocked. Occasionally the dragon will look back to watch with renewed curiosity or even wait for me to catch up. Sometimes I’d even turn back to continue down the street after checking a vehicle, only to find the dragon a few feet from me – watching. Nervously, I’d greet it with a simple hey – or something of the like – in which the creature would simply voice a chirp and sustain its walk down the road. Though, it seemed generally uninterested in my actions or motifs – just trusting that I will follow it.
But, the vehicles soon blended together. After searching so many cars, I became infuriated that not one person had a road-flare for emergencies stored somewhere. With each car and truck I searched, more hope was lost as I didn’t find what I was looking for. Sure, I don’t need the provisions now. But, in what? A week? Two weeks? Things will get desperate; assuming I manage to get back to the bunker and survive whatever ordeals this creature has planned for me. Hell, maybe it’ll even discover my food and take that; then, I’ll definitely need the air-drop.
I look back up to see the dragon had simply disappeared. I spun around a few times and checked every corner of my vision; but it was nowhere to be seen. Thinking this could possibly be some sort of test or trick from the creature – which I wouldn’t put past it, as it seems intelligent enough – I just continued to check any vehicles that had survived the explosions.
I had made it a considerable distance along the road – still looking for a marker, and still with no sign of the dragon. Though, something had now caught my eye – a landmark! The gas station in which I first found the dragon was now only a few yards in front of me, still standing strong. Now, I’d be able to make my way home. I was snapped out of my thoughts by large voluminous wing-beats. I rushed through a broken window and vaulted over the counter. With a deathly haste, I pulled the shotgun from its position under the counter and took some shells from the safe – it’s lucky for me I left the safe open. I haphazardly load two shells into the break- action double-barrel shotgun and stand fully so I can see over the counter.
The dragon stands just in the entrance of the gas station, looking directly at me. I immediately raise the shotgun, shaking noticeably. The dragon tilts its head, possibly signifying confusion or misunderstanding. While I keep the weapon trained on it, I am far from present; luckily for me, though, the dragon doesn’t move. I could just end this – here and now. I won’t have to worry about being eaten or killed. I’ll be able to return to the bunker and find a marker without complication. I focus my attention on the dragon again; it still hasn’t moved and I read a soft expression.

I can’t kill it... It’s immoral. The dragon hasn’t hurt me at all since I first found it; it has even eaten me, and yet I’m still alive. Killing this creature would be wrong – and, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I take a few slow breaths to calm myself and reduce my heart-rate; promptly placing the shotgun on the counter when my rationality returned. I walked around the counter and up to the dragon
– knowing that I would not be able to escape it. I look up into its eyes with shame streaked across my face. “Hey...” I almost think of doing one of those I know you can’t understand me, but I’m sorry. Although, it simply remains as a thought. The dragon brushes its snout up against the hair on my lowly hung head, walking off once it gains my attention.
Coming back outside once more, I realised just how late it was. It would only be a couple hours before the sky turns orange as the Sun falls under the horizon. I make passing glances at the dragon as we walk. How could I do that – meditate the murder of such an innocent animal. I made attempts to distract myself, looking at the numerous cars I had just spent many hours previously searching. Which worked quite well as I soon found myself walking up a familiar driveway; however, the constant analysis of my surroundings worked to serve a much greater purpose – I know the way home.
I sat myself down against one of the walls, the dragon on the opposite side of the garage. A groan escaped my mouth as I now realised how hungry I was; I need to get to my bunker, and soon. I noticed that the creature had now begun to watch me again, an emotion foreign to me flashed in its eyes. I simply stared as it stood back up and walked further into the rubble of the house. However, I was promptly taken by surprise as the dragon returned with my backpack. It dropped the bag at my feet and retreated back to the spot it was resting before. It seemed to associate my backpack as something I need when in anguish.
I open the bag and take one of the few MREs stored inside; I wouldn’t want to have anything more, in case the dragon continues to keep me here – or, at least, away from my bunker. Once I had finished the MRE, I sat the bag up against my back and closed my eyes. I didn’t hold much hesitancy or fear; for the most part, it didn’t seem that this creature wanted to kill me. It’s clearly keeping me alive for a greater purpose – I just don’t know what.
I was instantly thrown into consciousness, though I didn’t yet open my eyes
– hoping to find out why I woke up before showing the world I was awake. A gentle, yet somewhat chilling breeze played with my hair, causing a slight tickling sensation; I could still smell the ash and concrete dust in the air from all the destroyed buildings, it wasn’t pleasant – both the physical sensations and thoughts provoked. I focused on any sound discharging closer to me; I heard the faint, deep breaths of the creature mere feet away from where I lay. They were slow – and, while I don’t know anything about the anatomy of this creature, the breaths were slow enough to indicate it was still sleeping.
Hesitantly, I opened my eyes to look at it. The dragon didn’t seem to have moved at all from the spot it assumed however many hours ago when I fell asleep. Being careful to proceed with as much caution and stealth as I could manage, I moved

onto my feet and swung the backpack around my shoulders. I quietly snuck past the dragon, over to the shorter break in the wall. I gradually raised a leg and vaulted over the wall, suppressing the dull thud of my feet hitting the ground with a small squat. Before leaving to head down the road, I looked back at the dragon just to ensure that I still hadn’t woke it up – not wanting to initiate a chase.
Upon finding its luminescent, green eyes already glaring at me, a pit in my stomach was dug. With an unnerving calamity, it rose to its feet and walked over to the wall. I looked up at the creature’s head, trying to determine if it was angry or at least if I should be running. Lacking any form of reluctance, the dragon continued its tranquil demeanour and opened its mouth right above my head. My first instinct was to flinch – however, any instinct after that was plainly ignored as I was too scared to move. I then felt myself lift from my back; inquisitively, I cracked open my eyes to find that the creature had taken a hold of my bag with its mouth and was currently lifting me over the wall of the garage.
I shivered at the realisation of how easily it had picked me up – doing so with the same ease that I do with my backpack. The dragon then manoeuvred my arms and I fell only a short distance to the ground, managing to stay on my feet. It placed my pack down and looked over at me – a familiar green fire of determination blazing behind its eyes. I knew what would come; yet, I could do nothing but stand and watch as the creature extended a paw to gently ease my body flat onto the ground. Except, this time was different.
The dragon closed its mouth around my legs, I could feel its throat pull the rest of my body forward as it stared into my eyes. I was forced to meet its gaze; yet a realisation surfaced. The expression it held before wasn’t quite the same determination as before. Now, its mein had softened even further – reflecting the soft look it gave me when I was in the store with the shotgun. The creature had taken my upper torso into its mouth; leaving the entirety of my lower body to be sucked by its tight throat muscles, and breaking our eye contact. It really doesn’t wish to harm me, I haven’t been able to understand until now. The expression the dragon held was empathy.
Without any concept of a doubt, or thought of struggle, I tucked my arms in and laid languidly in the mouth of the creature. Last time I had been eaten by it, I quite liked the sensual massage it gave as I was slowly swallowed and sent to the stomach. Instead of trying to distract myself – this time, that is exactly what I focused on. The only descriptor I can associate with this feeling is otherworldly. The feeling of radiantly warm surroundings coating me in sticky and slippery saliva – equally as warm – while also drawing me further towards the origin of the heat. The tightness caused sensations so satisfying as to bring me into a completely different plane of consciousness – one of trust and comfort.
With my legs curling up into the stomach first, the rest of my body found itself settled in space rivalling the tenderness of the dragon’s throat. I allowed myself to relax and attempt to catch some rest as quickly as possible. With a few temperate strokes of hand on the barrier of the stomach, I found sleep much quicker than usual.

I awaken to the familiar feeling of being almost forcibly squeezed back up the throat of the dragon. Before I know it, my head leaves its throat and I’m softly laid onto the concrete floor of the garage. I get up into a crouch and peer forward to find the creature’s head hung directly in front of mine. However, I don’t recoil in terror. The dragon’s incandescent, green eyes gaze directly into mine. “H-hey.”
My eyes widen in surprise and I stumble backwards. I call upon my brain to examine the scene and don’t find the answer I’m looking for. I didn’t say that. I try to form some sort of response, but only manage to speak the first letter of whatever word I tried to say. The dragon continued to patiently watch me; it hadn’t moved or made another sound. I finally manage to fabricate a full sentence, returning the creature’s regard. “Did you get that from me?” It hasn’t spoken to me once since I first found it; it would be safe to assume that it didn’t know any words, and is simply copying what I’ve said in this particular situation. This is truly amazing – a creature that I’ve taught to talk.
The dragon chirps – seemingly with more elation than usual – and nuzzles me in the chest, just as it had yesterday. If I had any doubts about the placidity of this creature before, they have all been erased now. I hold a friendly hand out towards the dragon; it closes its eyes with a look of contempt as it grazes the side of its head against my palm. I release a sigh, feeling much better knowing that the creature now understands that I trust it. It terminates contact with my hand and pushes its muzzle into my chest. I chuckle blissfully and return its affection with scratches under its neck.
After I break from the warmth of the dragon, I get up and adjust my backpack onto my shoulders. The creature makes a weird growl-sounding noise, earning my attention. It holds my poncho in its jaws. I take the poncho and just stuff it into my bag, “thanks.” Now, walking over to the small break in the wall and lazily vaulting over it, the dragon languidly follows – keeping itself purposefully behind me. On the road to the bunker, I don’t find a single – relatively intact – vehicle that I haven’t yet searched. Eventually, I give up looking for any – knowing that I’ve likely already searched every one on this road
– and instead pay a closer eye to the buildings on either side of the street.
The gas station would have to be a one-in-a-million in comparison to every other building I’ve seen. Not a single house, garage or store is still standing. Everything that was once a clean and uniform structure has now been scattered into random piles of debris. I quickly discount the thought of looting any other place for a marker, as nothing is simply left standing. Some places have been so viciously attacked, there wouldn't be a single salvageable thing left. I think back to the people who once lived here, again. It hits me like a wave of depression – remembering them.
There were my parents; they were both still going strong – in their late forties. I was planning on calling them sometime, now that I think about it; I was thinking we might be able to meet up for breakfast at the new restaurant that opened up not long ago. There was a girl who I had planned to meet up with soon; we were going to go out for dinner, then have a bit of a drive. We met at work – just a Lowes. I was starting off slow, trying to make a friend before progressing further;

but, I guess I’ll never know how we’d turn out. I had a good childhood friend. He’d spend many hours gaming among other things on his computer that he built himself. He was thinking of going into College; wanting to do something with graphic design or computer science.
There were so many more people I had in my life; now, I’m cut off from all that. I didn’t get to give my Mother a call; tell the girl I very well may’ve loved my feelings over dinner; support my friend through his studies at College. I didn’t get to meet the nice old lady at Nine O’clock, sitting at the park bench outside of the cemetery. Nor did I get to look after the neighbour's cat while they went away for a week-long cruise. While I’m aware there was nothing I could do, I can’t help but wonder if there was.
With impeccable timing, I look up to find the gas station off to the right. I then look back forward and find the ute. I didn’t check the cargo tray of it, only the glovebox. I walk over to the back of it; luckily, it was just a soft cover. Removing the leather cover of the tray, I only find a toolbox in the back – nothing, again- In frustration, I slump down into a pile of sorrow against the back-wheel of the ute. Moisture collects in my eyes, but it isn’t substantial enough to cause streaks down my face. I’m suddenly met with a nudge to the side of my head – I look over and find the dragon. I nearly jump out of my body in fear, I had completely forgotten about it. “Hey; don’t worry, I’m alright.” I say with a smile.
The dragon continues to look at me with a blank expression; it sits down in front of me and quietly chirps, not breaking its gaze. I sigh, “I guess it looks to you like I’m sad or have a lot on my mind. Well, if it means anything to you, I was just thinking about before. Before when all these buildings were still standing strong, when cars were constantly travelling back and forth on the roads, and when people walked along the concrete paths. I’m not sure how well you know of companionship, but I had friends, family and even someone I wanted to love.” I focus back on the dragon, renewing my smile. “I might just be your first companion.”
The dragon tilts its head a little, but seems to become less serious now that I’ve taken a more positive demeanour. I extend my hand and gently pat its snout – the creature closes its eyes in contempt. “I’m going to have to look after you, huh? How funny is that? Me – a much smaller animal – nurturing you. You have my honest word, though, that I’ll teach you how to talk and look after you. I’ll show you how to behave and what to do if ever we run into other people. You’ll be my responsibility~”
I still had looming negative thoughts. Everyone in this town is dead, except for me. By some cosmic fluke, I happened to be home at the time and managed to get to my bunker before my house was blown to pieces. I had come to the conclusion that death may’ve been better. Now, I have to survive in this new world, perhaps even rebuild. All with the memory of those that had died; I believe they call that ‘survivor’s guilt’. But, this creature – whatever it is – has stumbled into my path. It has eaten me, kidnapped me and intimidated me. But, it has also shown me that we’re not so different. It has shown me compassion; but, also ignorance. Therefore, I’m obligated to teach it. While I’m certainly not qualified, nor even in the right mental resolve to teach what is essentially a child. It’s as though our

paths collided because that is exactly what I’m supposed to do. I may not be happy about surviving – about losing everyone else; but, I’ve got to continue surviving – for this creature.
I stop petting the dragon – getting up from the tar road with revived grit, and hope. I continue towards my bunker, reaching the first car I had searched. I walk to the trunk and find that it’s – luckily – unlocked. In the trunk is a pile of folded- up green and brown camo overalls, along with a duffel bag. Inside the duffel bag, I find an AK style rifle. Initially, I’m overtaken with shock; but I soon find the spare magazines for it and realise that it is an airsoft replica. Searching further into the bag – more so out of curiosity than anything else – I find a pair of boots, a belt with a holster attached to it and a vest harbouring a countless number of pouches and crevices. Although, my attention is promptly caught by a solid object in one of the pouches on the vest. I tear the velcro and find a cylindrical, metal canister. Pulling it out of the pouch for further inspection, my eyes light up in delight. I found a Green-Coloured Potassium-Nitrate Smoke Bomb. This isn’t what I was looking for, but it’s exactly what I need.
I awkwardly get the smoke bomb into my bag while it’s still on my back and slowly jog the rest of the way home; I can hear the dragon follow a small distance behind, too. I drop the bag at the hatch, hastily descending the ladder. I take a portable battery from on top of the desk and gather the radio in my arms. I maladroitly clamber back up the ladder and barely manage to fit the new items into my pack.
After another short while of walking, I make it pretty far into the Robinsons’ farmland; there’d be more than enough space for the drop here. I plug the radio into the battery and begin tuning it. The familiar – yet static-y – voice of the operator reaches my ears as I find the right frequency. “Will-- Willis! Can you hear me?”
“Yea, I hear you.”
“Oh, good...” She sighs. “I’ve been trying to reach you for a while now, what’s going on-- is everything alright?”
“Uh... Yea, it’s all fine. I just lost power for a moment, but I’ve got it all working again.” I say with a nervous glance over to the dragon.
“Well, there’s something important I need to tell you. There have been multiple accounts of people seeing unnatural creatures – those from fantasy. We managed to kill one and it turns out that they are one-in-a-million mutations of our normal animals. The chances of them even existing is almost nonexistent, yet there have been sightings of multiple different mutated animals. I want to warn you, you’ve got to be careful.”
I look at the dragon again, it tilts its head at my intensity. So that’s what you are. “Alright, thanks for the heads-up. But, there’s something I have to tell you too: I found a marker. I’ve got a green smoke bomb.”

“That’s perfect, find yourself an open space; I’m dispatching a plane, it’s about thirty minutes out. Just, do be careful; I don’t even know what’s out there – and it’s my job to know everything.”
“Yeah, thanks; I’ll be waiting.”
“Sure, I’ll let you know when he’s close.”