The Dragons.
What do I know of them? They're evil incarnate, they're monsters not of Heaven and too damned for Hell. They are the enemy. They must die.
My first encounter with the demons came when they first emerged, when I still was in Canada, when I still was in high school. The English, they have this saying; "Dig deep. Dig hard. Run for shelter and never look back" that's what I did. And ever since, I have never looked back. Not to any of the "Time Before", as it has become known as.
I was driving, in my Dad's pick up truck, a beautiful dark blue Ford, I loved that truck, even named her; Jezebel. Stupid, huh? I was driving along Highway #50, on my way home from a friend's house in Palgrave, a hamlet even smaller than the town I lived in. That was my first time.
She came out of nowhere, and before I knew it, the back bed of the truck was filled with fire and I was careening off the road, heading into Albion Hills Conservation land.
I don't remember much else, other than the fear I felt, and the beast.
She was huge, at least fifty feet tall with a wing span the likes of which I had never fathomed in my life time. She spat fire, like the fairy tales had told me, and in the heat created by the Nitro-Napalm, as I would learn as the technical name, I some how found the Humber River, which had lazily drizzled through the park. I hid there, like a coward, but I survived. Sometimes, it's the only way you can.
I remember her scream. It was shrill, like the sound they gave the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park 3, only more real, more terrifying. I don't remember how long she fed off the ash of what was Albion Hills' forests, but the whole time, her scream and the intense heat were the only things I could think of, along with how would I ever be able to explain the truck in it's twisted, molten and firey state. I never did get that chance. Bolton, where I lived with my parents, was gone by the time I found any one who could get me there.
The point I'm trying to get across is that the beasts are real, they're here and they are hungry. Watch yourself, your children. Beware what silence lurks, and never trust the friendly glow of a warm fire in the distance. They're tricky bastards, but they aren't unstoppable.
An American, sadly, said it best. "Take out their heart, and you take down the beast." They aren't immortal, and they aren't magical. They're just monsters, from the worst dreams dreamt up and given fire and flesh.
Kill the beasts, take their heart, and head to London. The Bull is there. There is only one. Kill the male, and the females will perish in time. We need all the help we can get. Please, join our cause. We need your help, it is the only way to survive. Sometimes, you have to choose stupidity over sanity, bravado over cowardice, life over death. Take out their hearts, kill the beasts, come to London, save our planet.
This is war, and only one species will get out alive...