Three men are approaching the ruins of the fortress very tired. They were walking for hours. Inside they try to find shelter from the harsh winter. They start the fire, without any conversation. It seems that it has been prepared for them; just to ignite it. Everyone sits to his place around it as cold winds are the only thing to be heard, apart from hauling of the wolves.
-“Fetch the wood”, silence is broken in commanding voice to the fattest man. Also he has a dark beard all over his face. He goes out, but he is not coming back. As the fire is slowly diminishing, some figure takes the seat of an absent fat man. They are dozing until a huge fire in front of them prompts both men to look up. The third person isn’t their comrade, but some very old man, with the skin like of the shark, tiny eyes hidden inside eye cavities and fringes instead of hair. His gray finger calls them to follow him. Very soon they plunge into darkness, after some opening with white sharp objects all around; one man cuts his finger feeling them. They steadily go straight relying on touch, only. The passage is however, twisting and turning and the walls aren’t of some solid material. Strange noises can be heard more-less. It could be, but it isn’t, an underground stream. Also the stench of strange sources, familiar but not so can be smelled. From time to time they stumble into mucilage liquid. The torch which their guide is carrying isn’t for light but its aroma prevents them from being sick. After going many miles they find themselves in the chamber with some light as the leader confronts them asking to choose one of three doors. Both men point to the left one.
Fearfully, they do what is commanded. Darkness is behind it. First man takes one step, but he can’t breathe. Old man takes another torch from the wall, lights it and passes one to each men. After that, there are only two of them in the shrunk tunnel. The stench is awful, so they have to handle the aroma close to their noses slightly burning them. The progress is painfully slow, there is a steady flow of mucus under their feet and walls are very soft and spongy. After painfully slowly journey, at last they enter another chamber with three doors. It could be the same one, but who knows. First man grabs the handle of the door to the left. Nothing. Second man takes the handle of the door to the right. Same result. Both try to exhale but stop the motion at half way as part of the brain realizes how bad the idea is. Standing in front of the middle door it opens to them. After a few steps they realize it is some big hall of the cave, with natural stairs going down, near the side of the wall. As they descend they comprehend the size of it. It is much bigger than the chamber above. They look around and notice the little girl in white dress with blonde hair looking up to them, holding some stick and hiding under the stairs. They hear some noise from the other side, dark side. It could be an underground stream, but it is, probably, something sinister. They look at the girl with a pleading gaze, but something else comes into vision. The third man, fat, short and with a beard. He isn’t a normal self as he is walking funny by the wall and his skin is very soft like some gelatin. His eyes are nowhere to be seen.
From the dark corner a gigantic creature appears. It is the dragon, as his swirling neck is unmistakable. However his green, enormous head is different than expected. It consists of a huge sheep head and horn and a very dark nozzle of the cow. It opens its mouth, but it needs not to, because both men are already extremely frightened. The tongue is unfashionable purple and acts as hypnosis to its victims.
-“What to eat?” - The girl asks, as both men, like one, points to the third, their former companion. The dragon grabs it, but spills him out.
-“Rotten!” – The girl says, as both men are going backwards.
-“What to eat?” - The girl asks again, as them both point to each other. Fraction of the second slower is grabbed by the mouth of the creature and quickly digested. Loud belch seals the deal. “Is it fed?”, the remaining man is thinking to himself.
-“What to eat?” - The girl asks yet again. The man points to her, but the dragon shakes his head and leaps forward. The man sees its throat and belch sound is in his ears, when he woke up in his bed, immediately standing up. He walks down to the kitchen, holding his stomach. Same stench from the corridors of the keep can be smelled, but most of his brain is still in sleeping mode. He doesn’t turn on any light, but straight to the refrigerator. He opens its door. There is s pot of carbonnade stew looking at him. His belly desires something else this time, a yogurt or pickles. He doesn’t notice the small blonde girl in the lower compartment looking at him. Instead he remembers, as the lights of his brain are slowly restarting, the legs of eaten man wiggling and dangling aiming to stay alive despite its body is already in the mouth of the dragon. It was so funny, remembering the same attitude of chicken legs without their heads. As he grabs the jar of pickles he notices the child who opens its mouth:
-“What to eat?” -
The jar of pickles turns into a giant head of a green monster, emerging ever larger, but he still holds the jar and looks at the girl with last thought to his legs – “Would it be as funny as of that poor other man?”