"Pete the Magik Dragon"

By GirlX2

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'It was very dreary, being a dragon.' C.S. Lewis, 'The Voyage of the Dawn Treader'

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Dedicated to My Best Friend, Mary Goodnight.

I own Neither the RGB, or C.S. Lewis. A small part has been paraphrased from one of his books, and kudos to you if you see it. This is the first in what I hope will be a trilogy of stories. Enjoy!

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Chapter the First.

-

"I hate you all. Just thought you should know that."

"Peter, please, its not that bad."

"Not that bad? No Ray, you're right. Its worse!"

The auburn-haired man sighed. "Its just a three hour drive. We're already half way there."

Peter Venkman glared at the younger man. "Its practically Canada! God, if I'd know this job was upstate-"

"You still would have accepted because we're getting paid double our standard fee." Egon said flatly.

"Oh yeah." Peter's look softened into a grin.

Winston peered out the window. "The last 'town' we passed consisted of three houses, a restaurant, and a very dilapidated general store. Where is this place?"

"Mr. Johnson said it would be a ways past the fork in the road." Ray unfolded a road map. "Which we should be coming up to in about thirty minutes."

Peter groaned and placed a set of headphones over his ears. "Tell me when its over."

Ray sighed as he pulled onto an unpaved road.

The bust was out at some private mansion in the upstate countryside, and Peter was not pleased with the arrangements. The entity they were going to contain wasn't confined to the house, but was roaming the nearby woods. Trees had been damaged, markers burned, and other general chaos. Mr. Johnson said his daughter's wedding reception was going to happen there, and he wanted nothing to disturb it.

Egon had become particularly excited with the job, however. He'd discovered the area the disturbances were taking place in were supposed to have been a meeting place for wizards predating colonial times. He wanted to get some sample readings of nearby plant life to study.

Ray turned onto a less traveled road.

"This may not even be a ghost." Winston pointed out. "We've never encountered a ghost who burned stuff."

"Personally I think its an angered tribal spirit, or it may have something to do with the supposed 'wizards' that were in the area." Egon interjected. "But I'll need some readings to rule anything out."

"Well whatever it is, its gonna wish it never messed with us!" Ray said cheerfully.

"I just hope this guy doesn't try and stiff us on the bill. Pete's already fit to be tied." Winston jerked his head at the brown-haired man.

"I heard that Zedd." Peter replied without opening his eyes.

-

"As you can see, this is getting absurd." Mr. Johnson, a short red-faced man, rushed them into the woods. "There have always been minor problems, but until now we figured we'd leave well enough alone. The damage is getting closer to the house."

"I'm not picking anything up." Egon announced, looking up from a burned stump. The PKE meter remained unperturbed. "Just natural background waves."

"You've had the police out to investigate, right?" Winston raised an eyebrow.

"Of course! I thought it was simple vandalism at first, but so few people live out here." Johnson's round face flushed. "I've installed cameras too, and they always turn up broken!"

"Do you have any tapes? I'd like to have a look at them." Egon said.

"Yes, at the house."

"Well, Mr. Johnson, why don't you and Dr. Spengler hike back up there, and we'll see if we can get any readings." Peter made his best 'This is all normal' face.

The man nodded. "Right. Its this way..."

Egon gave a slight look of skepticism to the others, then followed the client.

"Whaddaya think? Pranksters?" Winston asked.

"Most likely." Ray waved the GAGA meter over another burned marker without any response. "I'm just getting normal valance."

"Great, we drive all this way because some Pothead likes to screw with this bozo." Peter jerked a thumb in the direction Johnson had gone.

"I wouldn't rule out something paranormal yet." Ray's voice had taken an odd tone. "You guys better have a look at this."

The other men joined him.

"What is it?"

Ray's pointed to the trunk.

Long, deep gashes gouged the wood. Several dark stains (Blood, Peter assumed) also adorned the tree and nearby ground.

"What could have made those?" Winston voiced the group question.

"I dunno, but its fresh." The meter in Ray's hand beeped. "And these stains are giving off some strong readings. I've never seen waves like this. Wait 'till Egon sees!"

"How fresh Ray? Fresh like last few days, or fresh like we're about to get eaten?" Peter asked anxiously.

"If whatever it is was still around here, I'd have picked up some stronger readings." Ray said.

Suddenly, the meter let out a loud beep.

"And that?" Winston said tensely.

"That means get your thrower out." Ray's expression hardened. "Now."

-

"See, its all pretty dark. There's some movement, then the flash of light-" Johnson fast-forwarded the tape, "Then a blank."

Egon nodded. "Its difficult to tell, but there's definitely something there. I am fairly confidant in saying whatever did this is not human."

Johnson sagged. "But you guys can catch it, right?"

"We've never failed in the past." Egon rewound the tape, frowning slightly. "I think I'd better return to my colleagues and discuss this."

-

The three men stood in a triangle, facing opposite directions.

"Ray, what are we looking for?" Peter hissed.

"I don't know, but whatever it is, its big." Ray whispered. "And close."

"Everybody stay still and listen." Winston muttered.

A twig cracked nearby.

"Over here." Peter carefully aimed his thrower. "We blast on three. One...two..."

They fired. A loud roar shook the trees, and massive footsteps began to run away.

"You guys go that way, I'll head it off!" Peter took off.

Winston and Ray complied and ran at an angle to the brown-haired man.

Peter couldn't see what he was pursuing, but he could certainly hear it. Things snapped as whatever-it-was ran. He stared in amazement as broken twigs gave way to thick branches. He skidded to a stop as a large dip loomed before him.

'A multi-pronged hollow that looks suspiciously like a footprint...' The psychologist bit his lip, but continued the pursuit. If that really was a print, whatever he was chasing was at least the size of the Ectomobile.

'I can contain it until Zedd and Ray catch up.' He doggedly pursued the crunches.

Then, abruptly as it had begun, the noise stopped. Peter slowed to a jog.

"Come out, come out whatever you are..."

-

"Ray lookout!"

Winston's warning came too late. Ray vanished from the darker man's sight as he lost his footing and tumbled down a hill.

Winston groaned and jogged down the slope. Ray lay at the bottom, moaning.

"Are you okay?" Winston skidded to a stop.

"I think I broke my wrist." Ray cradled his left arm to his chest.

Winston gingerly took hold of Ray's right arm and helped him to his feet. "We'd better get you back to the house."

"But Peter is still out there chasing that thing!" The shorter man protested.

"Once he realizes we're not there, he'll pull back." Winston insisted. "And besides, you are in no shape to handle a thrower."

"But-"

"No buts Ray." Winston said firmly. "Pete can take care of himself."

"I guess so..." The younger man muttered

-

The forest had given way to a natural clearing, centered around an enormous cave. Scattered around were many large boulders pushed into strange patterns. Peter cautiously edged his way to the cave's mouth. Several of the same strange prints were stamped into the dirt.

The psychologist took one last look around before entering.

'No sign of Ray or Zedd...I'll just have to scout it out myself.'

-

Egon pushed his way through the foliage. He'd never been comfortable immersed in nature, and the inability to locate his friends was only making him nervous.

"Ow! Where are we?" A familiar voice rang out.

"We've gotta be near the house be now..."

"Winston?" Egon called.

Ray and Winston appeared from the brush.

"What happened? Where's Peter?"

"Ray fell and hurt his wrist." Winston sighed. "And Pete went after whatever-it-is."

"I knew we should have tried to catch up to him." Ray moaned. Egon examined the wrist.

"Its just a sprain." He peered over his glasses at the two of them. "And I'm sure Peter is fine."

"Was there anything on the tapes?" Winston inquired.

"All I could make out was something very large. Definitely not humanoid."
"I knew pranksters couldn't have made marks in trees like that." Ray sighed.

"What?"

"We found gashes and weird stains on tree's around here. That's when we heard some noises, and took off." Winston informed the blond.

"Lets get a splint on your wrist. Then, we go after Peter." Egon said.

Ray nodded, silently cursing his clumsy nature.

-

Peter squinted into the gloom. Something was shuffling around in here, but it was too dark to see what it was. He kept his thrower out.

A strange noise drew the brown-haired man's attention. It sounded like a very thin piece of cloth being ripped. A faint glow lit the cave.

Peter slid carefully forward, shoulder to the wall. The noise had stopped, but that didn't mean the entity had left. The glow grew stronger.

The Ghostbuster turned a slight corner, eyes opening in amazement.

The cavern was filled with treasure. Golden coins, scepters, crowns, statues, jewelry; a thousand kings ransoms lay piled almost to the cave's ceiling. Small shafts of light descended from above, making the gold gleam.

Peter gaped at the mass of riches. Hand trembling, he plucked a large coin off the pile, twirling it in his fingers.

"It's real." He said breathlessly.

The green eyes sparkled. When he brought the guys here...

He studied the hoard. There were plenty of stories about ghosts protecting treasure. Usually, once the treasure was discovered the ghost could go peacefully to its grave. Perhaps an actual bust wouldn't be needed...

His eyes lit on a bracelet studded with emeralds. He picked it up.

'It goes with my eyes.' He chuckled aloud, sliding the thick gold circle up his arm. It was obviously a warrior's band. Maybe a part of an ornate suit of armor. When Egon saw it, he would know.

'I'd better find the guys and show them.' The psychologist made his way back to the entrance. He reached the cave's mouth, and his heart sunk. It had begun to rain.

'I can't take the proton pack into the rain, it'll short out! And if I leave it here, the ghost could destroy it.' Peter sighed and retreated back to the treasure chamber. There was nothing to do but wait it out.

He sat on a mound of coins. The chamber seemed unseasonably warm. He lay back, slipping the pack off. If anything entered the cave, he could still reach it...

The brown-haired man's talent for sleeping anytime anywhere proved itself again, and he drifted off.

-

Ray grimaced as Egon finished wrapping his wrist.

"I knew there was a reason I hated the country." Winston commented. "Ray busts his wrist, Pete's gone, and there's still some big nasty thing creepin' around out there."

"I'm sure Peter's fine." Egon repeated the familiar refrain. "He probably took shelter somewhere. Getting a proton pack wet is very inadvisable, both for operator and machine."

"What if he didn't find cover? He might be lying electrocuted in a ditch somewhere!" Ray chimed in.

"I doubt it. We would have seen the explosion." Egon said absentmindedly.

Ray let out a horrified squeak.

"It looks like its lightening up. We'll go look in a few minutes." Winston said hastily.

Egon nodded, his glasses nearly slipping off his nose. "Ray, you'd better leave your pack here. You're in no shape to fight anything."

"Okay." Ray said reluctantly. "Let's just find Peter."

-

Peter's eyes slid open. The golden glow had faded slightly.

'Crap. What happened?'

He shifted, the coins beneath him seeming much more comfortable than before. Emerald eyes locked on the tunnel to the cave's mouth.

'Okay, I fell asleep.' He tried to stand. The coins slid around under his feet. He slipped back onto the pile, head cracking against the metal.

"ARRGH!" An animal cry of pain rose from him. His eyes clenched shut.

'Damn damn damn!' He lay motionless, dizzy from the fall.

As the disorientation faded, he risked opening his eyes. The air wavered hazily. He squinted. The smoky atmosphere didn't clear. Peter scrabbled back. Where there was smoke...

The Doctor lay still, mind racing. He'd fallen asleep, and several hours had passed. He sniffed the air, wisps of smoke filtering in.

'My proton pack!' His eyes jumped to the machine. It lay unharmed and undisturbed in the corner of the cave. Slowly, he rolled from his back to his stomach, preparing to crawl to the pack. As he reached out, a flicker of movement caught his eye.

A clawed paw lay still to his right. Peter stared, eyes wide. The massive arm was covered in green scales, and looked big enough to lift him effortlessly. His eyes traveled as far up as they could, without moving his head. He couldn't see what the arm was attached to, but he was suddenly aware of heavy breathing. Smoke was quickly obscuring his vision.

'Okay, some kind of huge monster is in here with me, there's a fire, and so far it hasn't disemboweled me. It might be asleep.'

He was facing the back of the cave.

'I never saw that tunnel leading off this chamber before...'

He bit his lip. The claw was twitching. Whatever it was, it was going to be awake soon.

He focused on the exit, took a deep breath, and ran. Coins fell to the floor, jangling merrily behind him. He heard something massive shift on the pile, but refused to look back.

Peter loped forwards, the light at the end of the tunnel growing brighter. Something was behind him. He could hear the soft 'ssssshhh' of scales on the stone floor. Fear glazed his brain, pure animal instinct taking over. He ran faster, the smoke fading behind him. He scraped his arm on a large boulder. The gold bracelet clanged off. Peter bit back a yelp as he emerged from the chamber. Light flooded his vision. Blinded by the surprisingly bright light, he staggered into another large rock.

"Ahh..." He gasped in pain. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the strange blotches of color. Slowly, the world became clear.

Peter spun clumsily to face the cave. Nothing stood behind him.

"What the heck..." He muttered. Or, he tried to. His throat seemed to have grown sore during his slumber. A raspy gargle was all the emerged. Peter frowned, trying to clear his throat. He tried to walk, but nearly fell over again.

And for the first time, the psychologist realized he'd been running on all fours.

-

End of Chapter the First.