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Dragons swirled
through the fog, dark shadowy forms slithering in darkness,
snaking in clustered circles, eating up what little
half-light broke through clouds encircling me. I could feel
the heat of their breath on my temples, could feel tiny bits
of stubble and skin singe, and smelled the acrid scent of
burnt hair. The dragon’s emerald eyes glinted in the white,
looking at me with either hunger or anger – the two emotions
one and the same, both born of an ignorant primal instinct
to survive. But what threat could I possibly be to the
dragons?
*****
I opened my eyes and
light filtered through, blinding and bright.
“Mr. Hess?” a
female voice.
“Yes?” My voice
sounded strange and hoarse.
I looked at the
woman in my room. She wore light green scrubs. An
identification badge hung from her breast pocket. On the
badge was a small picture which appeared to be of the woman
in the room – it was so blurred and unfocused I could not
tell for sure. All the same, I assumed it was her. The badge
had a name on it in big bold letters: Samantha Jenkins, R.N.
“So, you’re
awake?”
I nodded my
head.
“Let me just
take your vitals…”
The nurse came
over and took my blood pressure and checked my pulse. Her
soft fingers felt good on my wrist – a human touch. The fear
and confusion I felt upon waking diminished a little. I
looked at her, saw her blond hair, her dark skin, and her
youngish figure. She smelled like hair spray with the hint
of a pleasing light perfume. She smelled clean. I smiled at
her and tried to talk. All that came out was a cough.
“If you’re
thirsty Mr. Hess, I put some water on the table.”
I realized my
throat was dry. I looked at the table by my bedside and
found a flimsy pink plastic pitcher full of ice water. I
poured some of the water into a white Styrofoam cup
decorated by light blue designs and took a sip. It felt
good. It tasted good. I never thought water could _taste_
so good. It had never really had any flavor before.
After
swallowing an entire cup full of the cold water, I cleared
my throat and asked, “So, tell me, Ms. Jenkins, am I going
to make it?”
The nurse
smiled at me. “As long as you behave, I think you’ll be
fine. Is there anything else I can get for you? Would you
like some help going to the restroom?”
I thought about
it a minute, realized that I did have to urinate, but the
thought of this attractive young woman having to help an old
man like me do such a thing made me feel a little …
_agitated_. I knew I was not supposed to get
agitated, so I told her to go on, that I could go on my own.
She left the room
looking somewhat relieved.
The door she
walked through was made of metal, painted white, with a tiny
barred window near the top. After she walked out I heard a
clink followed by a clunk as the door was locked by what
sounded to be a heavy internal mechanism. The sound made me
angry. I felt my heart begin to flutter in my chest. I knew
the hairs would grow soon, my face would stretch itself out,
the fangs would grow, and I imagined that Samantha Jenkins,
R.N., would taste almost as sweet as my Little Red Riding
Hood. I let out a howl.
*****
I swam with the
dragons again, the white fog thicker than before, the
serpentine forms more obscured. The scent of burnt hair was
less strong, perhaps I had a closer shave this time?
But still the
dragons swarmed me. I could not see them, but I felt them,
their scaly skin touching my own, taking with it all trace
of humanity. I imagined my own skin turning into scales,
could feel it happening. The wiry grey hairs covering my
body fell free, my skin separated into sections, those
sections raised and grew hard. I imagined each section was
its own color, each color an emotion, each emotion a memory,
and one by one the dragons came at me, blowing flames to
burn those memories away. The multitude of bright colors
faded and dulled to an ashy grey.
Hurt, I wanted
to fight back. The dragons backed away, began dissolving
into the fog, swirling and circling into tiny pinpoints –
black specks on a white canvas – and then nothing.
*****
“Mr. Hess?”
It was a male
voice this time, but I would have been hard-pressed to call
it masculine.
I used my hands
to shield my eyes from the fluorescent lights overhead, and
looked at the person talking to me. He looked back with
glassy blue eyes. The man wore the same color green scrubs
as Samantha Jenkins, R.N. He wore a badge with his name: Tom
Bradford, R.N. The badge hung around his neck on a flat and
wide length of canvas material that resembled a cloth
necklace. The necklace was pink. He was a large tanned man,
with dark hair that was brushed up into a thin ridge that
crested as a line down the center his head. I thought it was
a very odd hair style.
He smiled at
me.
I tried to
smile back, but my lips faltered. They would not cooperate.
“Mr. Hess, I’m
here to check your vitals and give you your medicine.”
I nodded my
head.
He reached down
and took my pulse. He looked at me and smiled. He touched
his hand to my head and frowned. I smelled lavender, and
thought his hands felt softer than Ms. Jenkins’. “You
haven’t touched your dinner. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes, I think
so.”
He frowned and
pulled out a little piece of paper. “Open up,” he said in a
school-marmish tone.
I opened my
mouth.
The nurse eyed
his watch and tapped his feet. He hummed an old song from a
musical I remembered from my childhood. I think it was
South Pacific. I remembered one line: _I'm going to wash
that man right out of my hair._
“Okay, let’s
see…” Tom pulled the paper out of my mouth. He bent down and
absentmindedly stroked my arm with his soft hand. “I think
you’re going to be all right, sweetie.”
“Is that a
thermometer?” I asked, knowing the answer, but amazed. It
had been a long time since I had been hospitalized. A very
long time.
He smiled at
me, demonstrating feigned patience. “Of course it is.”
“Where’s the
mercury?”
“The what? Oh… We don’t use those anymore. Just these
disposable kind.” He tossed the thermometer away in a large
red waste basket with the word BIOHAZARD written across it
that sat close to the wall near a dusty air-conditioning
unit. “Why don’t you try to eat something? You need your
strength, hon.”
I nodded my
head.
“Would you like
me to help you with that?” He asked.
“No thanks, Mr.
Bradford.”
“You can call
me Tom.”
He smiled at me
with genuine warmth, and this time I could smile back -- a
big toothy grin. I watched him leave the room.
My stomach
growled. I found a dinner tray was next to me on a rolling
stand. I used the mechanical switch on my side rail to lift
up the back of the hospital bed to a sitting position,
rolled the stand around, and adjusted it so that the tray
hovered over my lap. On the tray there was a plate covered
by a red plastic lid, a dessert cup, and a Sprite. I lifted
the red lid, and looked down at an unappetizing piece of
baked chicken. The chicken was cold and sitting in a
congealed yellow puddle of its own fat. In the compartment
next to the chicken there was some plain white rice, and a
half dozen unnaturally green broccoli florets in the third
tiny compartment. I sighed and put the lid back down.
I poured the
Sprite in my cup and took a sip. The drink was flat and
warm. It had been left open too long.
The dessert cup
had what appeared to be green Jell-o inside. I opened it up,
and it spilled onto me, liquefied and melted to green goo. I
felt _agitated_.
I watched the
hairs on the back of my arm thicken.
*****
The other dragons
came after me in a sea of sparks. I could feel my neck
tensing, my shoulders locked up and paralyzed at an odd
angle. My wings would no longer unfurl and I hurtled to the
ground.
*****
"Mr. Franklin, you
have a visitor." Nurse Tom said.
I opened my
eyes and looked at him. I could feel some spittle running
down my chin, dripping down and wetting my hospital gown.
"Uh?"
Nurse Tom came
over and sat next to me on the bed. He grabbed some tissues
from the table next to me and dabbed away the drool. He
scrubbed a little, I could feel some of my own drool had
hardened.
"There. That's
better." He smiled at me, tossed the tissues into the
wastebasket, and clasped his hands. "I don't want Mrs. Hess
seeing you like this."
I looked at
him, shot him a question with my eyes, and shook my head.
"Oh, dear,
sweetie! How could you forget your lovely wife?" He ran his
hands over something on the side of my head. I could not
tell what he was looking at, but felt his fingers on the
side of my shaved head. His fingers made a scraping noise as
they ran through stubble. "Fucking barbarians!"
My eyes got
wide, surprised by his venom.
"I'm sorry, Mr.
Hess. It's just you've been through so much. This is no way
to treat you."
"Uht do ew
mean?"
My lips and
tongue would not cooperate. I was growing _agitated_.
I fought the wolf back into the shadows.
Nurse Tom stroked my arms and gave me a
good-natured nudge in my side, as if encouraging my internal
struggle. "Don't worry, Mr. Hess. It's just the treatments.
We'll get you all better. We have some amazing speech
therapists here at First Memorial."
He stood up and
walked over to a contraption that sat next to my bed. A
plastic tube ran down from a bag hanging on the metal
hanger. The other end of the tube was taped to my arm. I
moved it and winced, feeling a large catheter under my skin.
I wondered how the IV had gone unnoticed.
"Here. This
should help you feel more relaxed for your visit."
I felt
something cool rush into my arm. The chill was shocking, but
quickly replaced by a warm fuzzy feeling. I scratched at my
nose, and was surprised by the smile that crossed my face.
"Would you like
me to stay for your visit? I don't think it's necessary. You
seem okay, but I'm not sure they would approve of visitors,
yet. In fact, let's keep this little visit a secret, okay?"
I smiled at
him.
"Say." I was
angry I could not produce the 't' sound. I began ticking
with my tongue and then repeated, "Stay!" I smiled over this
minor victory.
"See! We're
better already."
*****
The dragons
interrupted my visit. They blew smoke in my face until I
could not see. The world faded and I was blown away by wind
currents and heated updrafts.
A large green
dragon reared its head back. The scales covering the face
were long and sharpened on the edges. It seemed to smile and
sucked in a draught of air. It blew out a massive red flame
that covered me with warmth...
*****
...and I woke up
wet.
Bits of hair
were stuck between my teeth. I looked down and the figure
before me was almost unrecognizable. A pile of red and pale
sage green. A Christmas massacre.
Nurse Tom had
been ripped to shreds and lay across my lap. I tried to push
him away, but was too weak. This agitated me.
I became aware
of a woman screaming in the room. I covered my ears -- my
irritation increasing -- and howled. I paused to look at the
woman. She looked familiar: red hair, white freckled skin,
greenish-blue eyes. It took me a moment to identify her. Her
face was lined by a criss-cross of deep red scars. But
beneath those scars, she still appeared to be the same young
woman. It was my wife, Red. My sweet Little Red.
I heard the old
song in my head: _Hey there Little Red Riding Hood. You sure
are looking good. You're everything that a big, bad wolf
could want._
I hummed the song. My arms became strong,
and I tossed Nurse Tom's body to the ground. I looked at my
arms and saw they were covered in fur. In place of hands
were padded paws with long bloody claws. I leapt to the
ground and cornered Red.
"Not again..."
She fell to her knees and pleaded with me, her hands clasped
as if praying.
I licked my
lips and felt the sharpness of my fangs.
"Not again,"
she repeated.
*****
The dragons laughed.
It was the sound of church bells on Sunday afternoons
announcing service was over, worship was done, when the
crowd could feel free to walk back to their lives and their
sins feeling guilty -- but not guilty enough to change. The
bells tinkled in the fog, the echoes coming back shattered
as if sliced and distorted by unseen crystals, and I
realized we were in a cavern -- a massive geode. We floated
in the cold, only finding warmth in our own flames and the
flames we blew on each other: a destructive purifying fire.
The scales fell
away and I was left alone. A naked, pitiful mass of
quivering flesh.
*****
I felt something
sharp hit me from behind. I reared back onto my hind legs
and howled. I turned to face my attacker.
Samantha
Jenkins, R.N., held a smoking shot gun in her hands. She
cocked the barrel one-handed, a silver shell fell to the
ground with a clatter. She put the butt of the gun on her
shoulder and aimed down the barrel.
Agitated, I
leapt at her. She raised the rifle and I felt another sharp
burst of pain that convulsed my entire body. I fell to the
ground and watched as my paws became hands again. My hands
clasped something cold and metallic sticking out of my
chest.
My Little Red
fell on top of me sobbing. I felt her hands running over the
stubble covering my head, could smell her scent and she
smelled like home.
"I thought you
were going to fix him!" Red screeched at the nurse.
"I think you
should leave, Mrs. Hess. You're husband really shouldn't be
having visitors yet."
I reached my
hand around the cold metallic cylinder on my chest and
pulled it free. Examining it, I saw an empty syringe. I
could feel a fuzzy warmth in my extremities. I scratched at
my nose.
I made a feeble
attempt to sit up. "What are you two talking about? Red?
What am I here for?" My voice was garbled as if my cheeks
were lined by marbles.
I knew the
answer, had known for some time, but had repressed the
thoughts and memories. I knew what I was. I had tried to
change, kept a close shave, tried to reign in my anger,
tried to control that old wolf who had haunted me for so
long. It was I who volunteered for the shock treatments. It
had worked for my old friend Herman, I hoped it might work
for me.
Nurse Jenkins
kept her shotgun pointed at me. She inserted another round.
"Don't make me use this, Mr. Hess. A little silver can calm
you down, but too much could kill you."
I nodded my
head. "I'm sorry..."
The nurse
sighed. "Mrs. Hess, please leave. Tommy knew we shouldn't
let visitors in this early. We'd just started your husband's
treatments. He's very vulnerable right now. The beast is
just below the surface, you know."
I felt Red bend
over and kiss my forehead. I smelled her flesh and the blood
pumping beneath that thin surface, so close to my lips I
could taste her on my tongue.
Red saw my
eyes. I saw my eyes reflected in hers: yellow slits in a sea
of darkness.
"Love you,
baby." She stood and walked away.
I watched my
wife walk out. As much as it hurt me, I said a prayer that
she would never return for her own sake...
...and my own.
Nurse Jenkins
locked the door behind her. "This is pretty bad, Mr. Hess.
I've seen worse, but not many. But we all know the risks
when we take on this job."
The gun still
aimed at me, she walked over to Tom's bleeding still body.
She kicked at it with a foot covered by shoe covers that
looked like blue shower caps. She reached down with a gloved
hand and felt a wrist.
"Aw fuck! You
killed him, Mr. Hess! Damn! We know the risks, but hell!
What am I going to tell his wife? We're friends, you know?
Our kids play together."
"His wife?" I
asked.
She smiled a
sad smile, her eyes glittering with recognition of my
thoughts. "Yeah. His wife. I thought the same thing, too.
That he might be a little, you know, _sweet_. Even
after I knew better, I wondered sometimes. It's funny how
first impressions, no matter how far off base, stick with
you."
"You said he
had cubs?"
"_Kids_, Mr.
Hess. I said he had _kids_." She stood up and pointed the
gun at me. "You just stay still now. We don't want any more
casualties tonight."
I became
agitated again, but not at her. I was angry with myself. The
hairs began growing. I pounced. The nurse fired first one
shot and then another. Empty shells clattered to the floor
one by one. She got off five shots before I reached her.
I leapt atop
her, ripped the blond wig off her head with my teeth,
revealing short kinky locks, and watched her cower, felt her
tense up in panic and then relax as the terror became too
much. I'd felt it before. It stirred an old hunger. It was a
familiar hunger I had not felt in a while. Not since Red had
cheated on me with that woodcutter. It was after she cheated
on me that the old urges had started surfacing and my lust
dried up. I remembered the first time I had placed a claw on
Red. I remembered the bleeding slashes on her face and how I
had wanted to pound my claws and jaws into her until she
resembled a steaming pile of ground chuck. Thinking of her
with that woodcutter, how he had come after me with his axe,
remembering how I had to call the police on the logger and
file for a restraining order. I had not made love with
anyone since those traumatic early days. After her
indiscretion, my longing for my wife was replaced by an
angry hunger for blood. But the wolf had been under control
for the most part. Until Tom, only sheep and cattle had been
slaughtered from suffering the full force of my anger.
But seeing
Nurse Samantha under me, feeling her soft skin, her frantic
breathing and heaving, her breath coming out and fluttering
against my neck like invisible hummingbird wings, I felt her
and she felt good. I wondered if I might feel good to her,
too? It was not all that different from my first experience
with Red on the trail all those decades ago.
I ripped her
scrubs off with my teeth.
I thought I saw
her smile and then there was a blinding flash as she pulled
the silver IV stand down onto the back of my head. Shooting
pain. When my skull cracked, my fur fell away.
*****
I floated with the
dragons, no longer distinguishing myself from them. I was
one of them and they were one with me and together we were
nothing.
THE END
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