The True Monster

 Byron Ward is looking over some recent data, flipping through pages and pages of documents, wondering what it wants, and how something so evil could happen. Sweat pours down his face, covering the documents. He reaches for a tissue and blots the sweat off the papers. His hands shake, making it hard to flip through all the material. The door to his lab opens.

“You better have some good news for me” he says, without bothering to look up.

“I do, actually,” replies his assistant, Isobel Finley.

“I told you to address me as ‘Sir’.”

“Okay, Sir, the weapon is working.” Byron looks up abruptly from his work, “show me,” he says. Isobel snaps her finger and a servant walks in, pushing a cart. On top of the cart is what appears to be a silver rod. Eagerly, a faint smile coming to his face, his eyes opening wider and wider, fixated on the weapon, Byron makes his way over to the weapon. He looks at it for a second, then gently picks it up.

“Yes, I see,” he murmurs to himself, “good job. That one little glitch was causing a world of trouble. But now, but now. Yes, what a subtle, gentle fix. A simple rewiring. But there’s still one problem.” He turns the weapon open, and opens a compartment on the underside, “it still only has one shot,” raising his voice and looking at his assistant, he continues, “this means, we have to get it right, we only have one chance. We don’t even know exactly what this creature looks like, or its motive.”

“Actually, sir,” responds his Isobel, “We know one of those things. We know its motive. It wants to perform a dark ritual. This ritual will essentially ascend the creature to godhood. The power, and destruction that it will cause would be catastrophic.”

“Yes I see,” whispers the scientist, “but, to do that it needs a special focus for its magic. An object with enough power and potential to power an entire city, as well as a top secret lab running all kinds of energy costing experiments, and still has plenty of power leftover. An object like the one powering our lab. Yes, Yes. A plan its forming. We use this object to attract it (no doubt such a powerful creature who knows of such a ritual is drawn to it), then we ambush it, and kill it. Yes, Yes this should work.” He puts down the weapon, and at the top of his lungs shouts, “I want this place shut down immediately, there is no electricity from here on out, get me the reactor!”

“Sir, try not to be too rash, think of what we will be losing if we shut down,” argues Isobel.

“I don’t care, we must stop this creature. Go fetch the reactor and bring it to me in Testing Room 5.”

“Okay,” says Isobel, turning to leave.

“You mean…” responds Byron in a demeaning voice.

“Yes, sir,” Isobel says through her teeth.

“Right,” whispers Byron to himself, “let’s get to work.” With that, he rips up the documents, which were anathema to him, and walks out of the room to Testing Room 5.

Naturally, Testing Room 5 is being renovated, and part of that renovation is redoing the walls, floor and ceiling. So right now it is a big, dark, concrete room. There are plenty of desks, lab equipment, and all sorts of stuff lying around. For whatever reason, instead of all this stuff being cleared out for the renovation, it wasn’t. The room is damp, water can be heard dripping into small puddles throughout the room. As Byron slowly walks across the room, there is a tense silence, only broken by the dropping of water, which occasionally drops onto his face, mixing with the sweat, making his shirt stick to his body, and making him feel very uncomfortable. Why is it so humid? There is a splash of water, as he steps in a puddle, which echoes through the room.

Breaking the silence, the sound of his phone ringing dominates what little noise there was. Startled, Byron jumps, startled, and falls to the ground, his shaking legs not able to support his body. Writhing on the ground in sweat, stress, and fear, he feebly manages to get the phone out of his pocket and answers it.

“Sir,” says Isobel, “we have the reactor, do you want me to bring the weapon over too?”

“Yes, we must prepare, it’s happening soon.”

“Okay, so also…” Isobel begins, but is cut off by Byron hanging up. “So annoying,” he says to himself. He gets up, and his phone starts ringing again. “Of course.” Without a second thought, he hits decline. A few minutes go by, then he hears some people in the hall. His assistant, and a few other people come into the room breathing heavily from exertion.

“We got the weapon, and the reactor,” says Isobel.

“I also brought drinks to celebrate, sir.”

“Wonderful!” He waves the other servants out of the room, and puts the reactor in the center of the room.

“Also, sir, I wanted to tell you the weapon has not been as tested as it should be.”

“That’s okay, there is no time for such a thing. How does it work?” he asks picking up the metal rod and looking over it.

“There is a button on the underside, there,” Isobel replies pointing a smooth button built into the weapon, “you simply point and press. If you hit it, it will be banished. Remember, there is only shot, so don’t miss.”

“Of course I shall not miss!” blurts out Byron in an offended tone, “I will have the honor of this victory. I deserve it. Give me my drink.” With that he sets the weapon down, and approaches his assistant who begrudgingly hands him his drink. They both drink, and Byron sticks his glass out to Isobel, who takes it from him.

Suddenly, a pure silence falls upon the building, as the hum of what little backup electricity remained goes out.

“Over here,” whispers Byron, hiding behind a desk holding the weapon, and looking out at the reactor in the center of the room. She follows his lead, crawling over to the desk, and hiding behind him.

Silence. Waiting. The water slowly drips, echoing through the empty room. The only noise that can be heard. The sporadic sound of water falling into little puddles below. Drip, was that something moving? No just water. Drip. Drip, stop it. Drip, where is this creature? Drip, stop it. Drip, that was a drip right? Yes, there is nothing else. Drip, STOP IT.

Breathing, behind him. Low soft breath, it’s on his neck. Turn around. No, could be dangerous. It’s dangerous either way. Pretend it’s not there. But it is there. Just turn around. NO. It’s the only chance to defeat this creature. Fine. It’s just her.

There’s a drip behind him, it’s here! No just water. The darkness permeates. Is that the creature? Wait, it’s just a desk. A low sound echos through the building. Another one. Then another. Slow, but steady. It sounds like the footsteps of the creature. There’s quick inhale behind him. He turns around, just the girl. It’s getting closer, and closer.

It stops. Inhale, exhale, breath slowly, steadily. Inhale, exhale. It will be alright. Slowly, control, inhale, exhale. Listen, nothing. Inhale, exhale, it comes out shakily, steady it. Was that something? No. Drip, just water. Drip, not anything. Drip, water can’t hurt you. Drip, the creature won’t sound like that, it will be more obvious. Drip. Inhale, exhale. A faint squeak off in the distance. It will all be over soon.

A scratching sound, behind him. Turn around, nothing. Turn back around, is that? Isobel, standing in the middle of the room by the reactor.

“Assistant, you’re going to blow it for me, get back here,” he whispers urgently across the room.

“You know,” Isobel begins, ignoring him, “I have had to tolerate you for so long.”

“Okay, we can work something out, just get back here, this isn’t the time!”

“Demeaning me, treating me as a machine that never tires, instead of a human,” Isobel continues, slowly getting louder.

Bang, another footstep echos through the chamber as the creature starts moving again.

“Emotionally abusing me!” She shouts, now the echo of her voice fills the chamber.

“Please get back here, we can work this out later.”

Bang, another footstep.

“Making me sign confusing legal documents so I can’t quit!”

Bang, the footsteps are closer, louder now.

“This is important, get back here!”

“Well I’m important too!”

Bang.

“I am a human being, I have a life outside of your abuse and narcissism.”

Bang.

“What’s my name?”

“I can’t focus on this now,” he says, panic rising.

“No, you don’t know my name. Why should you? To you I don’t matter.”

“Okay,” he says, getting up, starting to make his way over to her. But then, he starts to feel a pain in his chest. His limbs began to go numb, they won’t move. He stumbles, falls in front of the desk. No, can’t be in front, what’s happening? Have to move behind the desk. Can’t, won’t work. Say something, mouth won’t move.

“So I decided to do something about it.”

The footsteps are right above the room.

“I have bad news for you, I poisoned your drink. You won’t die, but you certainly won’t be moving anytime soon.”

Of all the times she could have done this!

“You are the true monster!”

A sniffing sound is heard outside the door. A giant nose pokes through the door, and begins to push its way through. Following the head is the long neck. The door and walls crack more and more as more of its massive body makes its way inside. Until, there is no wall left, and there is the sight of a massive dragon standing there. Staring at the reactor, then looking to the struggling figure incapacitated on the ground.

“Then this creature offered me a slice of his power to help it. With my power I can get rid of people like you. Oh yeah, by the way, I have some more bad news. That weapon I gave you is actually to help with the ritual. Soon this dragon will have godlike powers, and I will share in that power!” Isobel walks over and easily takes the rod from him.

The dragon drags one of its long claws across the floor, forming a circle around the reactor. Gently, it lowers its head and breathes fire onto the scratch marks, which ignites, and flame forms a circle. The dragon starts to chant in some draconic language. The fire grows, changes to green, then yellow, until it finally settles on blue.

Isobel points the rod at the reactor and fires. Instead of exploding, it dissolves into a liquid, and fills the interior of the circle. The dragon lowers its head, and starts drinking this liquid, the flames licking its mighty neck.

The fire cools, almost immediately. The dragons eyes turns yellow for a split second, then back to their original flame red color.

“Come here,” it demands, its words powerfully echoing, and filling the space in an almost magical way.

Isobel obeys, and walks closer. The dragon leans down, and breathes on Isobel. She feels power filling her. A power she could never have imagined before. She starts floating, looks down in shock, gasping, then realizes she willed herself to do that, as easily as walking. She flies higher, up to the dragons eye level. An almost unlimited amount of power is under her control. How incredible.

The dragon starts speaking again, “long have I searched for the proper materials to complete this ritual. Of all the places, this is where I found it, the most unexpected place indeed. Now I must take my newfound power back to my realm, and fix things there. Thank you for your help.”

With that, the dragon flies off, leaving Isobel there flying in place.

“Sorry about that, sir,” she shouts down to Byron’s pained body. With that she flies off, ready to use her new found power to fix the world.