Who Hunts?

The building loomed up against the fading daylight, a grim black monolith on a deep grey backdrop. Even with all the city lights around, the patch of ground the desolate building stood on was shrouded in shadows.

“Come on Ali. You’re not scared, are you?”

Ali tried to not look worried, but he was still subconsciously chewing his lip. “’Course not. It’s just… well, are you sure it’s safe?”

“So you are scared?”

“I’m not scared of ghosts, Darren. I’m just worried that the floor’s going to give out-”

“Oh come on. It’s not that bad. Buildings have to be built to code, remember? The wall’s are peeling and all that, but structurally it’s still fine.” Darren was busy testing the chain link fence, wedging the links open so he could fit the tip of his trainers in.

“So why is it scheduled for demolition then?”

“Dunno. Boring, adult reasons I guess. Someone doesn’t like it or some such. An ‘eyesore’, probably. Anyway, are you coming?” The words were almost lost to the night as Darren swung himself over the top, the chain rattling loud as an alarm as he went.

As much as Ali didn’t want to go, he knew he’d never hear the end of it if he didn’t. It would be round the whole school by the end of the week, and that was the last thing he needed. It was bad enough being seen as the teacher’s pet already. Following the trail left by Darren he scrambled over the fence as well, hot lines of pain across his fingers from where the wire had dug in by the time he’d touched down on the far side.

“What was this place then?” Ali asked as they crept up to the building. “Like, an asylum, or something?”

“What? No. We’re in the middle of London, dude, not the arse-end of America. Who’d put an asylum here?”

“So what was it then?”

“Dunno. Just like a warehouse or something. Flats maybe?”

“Oh.” As much as he didn’t want to be there, Ali was a little disappointed that some of the mystery had gone out the adventure. If you’re going to make me trespass you could at least make it somewhere interesting, he thought bitterly. There was no way he’d say it out loud though; Darren was just the sort of annoying sod to take him at his word, and doing this once was more than enough for Ali.

The front door was plastered over with warning labels and chained shut.

“Now what?” Ali asked. What had started as a nerve-wracking evening of breaking-and-entering was turning out to be surprisingly dull.

“We find a window. Got to be one somewhere we can get through.”

As it happened they had to go almost the whole way round the building before they found the tiniest sign of an entrance. A board across one of the windows had come loose at a corner, and with some wrestling they managed to bend it out, making a hole just large enough for them to crawl through.

“After you then,” Darren said.

“What? This was your idea.”

“I thought you weren’t scared.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake-” Still grumbling Ali squeezed himself in, catching his clothes on the windowsill more than once. As soon as he was in he dug his phone out and turned the torch on.

“Well?” Darren whispered from outside. “How’s it look?”

“It’s fine. It’s just an empty building.” Except it was draughty and cold, and all Ali really wanted was to be at home on his computer. Hang on, he thought, how can the draft go in both directions? He held his hand out. One moment the draft came from one way, and then after a pause it would come from the other way.

Before he could even guess what was up Darren was scrambling in, making enough noise to wake the dead. Ali turned and hushed him, before he started to help get the slightly chunkier boy in.

“Now what?” Ali asked as soon as they were both free of the window. He was failing to keep the frustration out of his voice now, and all he could do was wait for Darren to take the hint and call it a night.

“Upstairs.”

“What?”

“We can’t say we’ve been in here until we’ve been upstairs.”

“Says who? Come on man, this place is dull. There’s nothing here-” Except an impossible draft, his brain reminded him. He was too annoyed to register the warning.

“Then it won’t be a problem to get upstairs. Come on.” Darren headed off in a random direction, leaving Ali to roll his eyes and follow.

The deeper they went into the building the more pronounced the drafts got. At each doorway they passed, each leading off to abandoned offices, there was a deep whistling wind that rattled the door-frames. Though he kept thinking about it, Ali didn’t dare mention it to Darren. No matter the reasoning behind it, all Darren would say was that he was being a scaredy-cat again.

“Hey, Ali?”

“Yeah?” Ali had been so preoccupied with puzzling out the weird air-flow that he jumped when Darren spoke. The edge to Darren’s voice didn’t help. “What’s up?”

“Is it just me,” Darren said, trying and failing to keep his voice light and carefree, “or is there a lot less dust here than in the other corridors?”

“No. It’s not just you.” Sure enough the centre of the corridor was practically clean, a stark contrast to the piles of dust that ran along the skirting board. Like it’s been wiped clean. Or like something’s been dragged through here, Ali thought, and he hated himself as soon as he had. “Look, we’ve got to be in the middle of the building by now. Surely this is good enough?” He was doing a better job of keeping the panic out of his voice, but there were too many weird things now.

Of course it wasn’t ghosts, but something was wrong with this building.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s good enough. Besides, it’s like you said earlier. Floor’s probably giving out up there.”

They started leaving, moving faster than they had on the way in. Between their suppressed panic and the limited light from the phone it was only a matter of time before they messed up.

It was Darren that went down. His foot slipped on something hidden under dust and leaf litter, sending him slamming into the floor. He landed face first and came up coughing and wheezing, his nose streaming blood.

“Damn it, Darren, you okay?”

“Fine, it’s noth-” The world went quiet around them. “What’s that?” Darren whispered, his face pale and his eyes wide.

There had been a background noise, a low rhythmic rumble that they’d only noticed now that it had stopped. The drafts have stopped as well, some horribly aware part of Ali’s brain pointed out.

After a pause there was another sound, and it was the unmistakeable sound of something moving. Something huge. Scratching, clattering and then two thundering growls, like thunder coughing. With each one there was another rush of wind and the smell of bonfires.

Ali’s mouth gaped like a fish and his fingers clawed at Darren’s jacket. Somehow the boys had the awareness to get up and start scuffing backwards, oblivious to how much noise they were making now.

There was a glow of red from the end of the corridor and a wave of dry heat.

“Run,” Ali croaked. “Run!”

Both of them turned and ran without a single look back. At the window they fought each other to get through first, and they threw themselves over the chain link fence. Neither of them stopped until they were out on the main road, and safe under the eyes of witnesses.

Back in the building, the dragon stretched the crick out its neck as it sniffed the air. BO and cheap body sprays. High school boys. The dragon sighed and shook itself. Time to invest in some more locks. Ah well, might as well go for a walk while I’m up. The dragon coughed again, releasing brief spurts of flame, and slid itself out from the basement and stalked around the building.

Up on the roof it basked in the glow of the moonlight as it scanned the perimeter. It was no cave, sure enough, but it was safe. Between the ghost stories and the no trespassing signs very few people ever bothered to disturbed the dragon.

Besides, the dragon thought as it watched the lights flicker on the horizon, who hunts dragons in a city?