The Reign of Flames: Part 1: Firestorm

The dragons came. They weren't the dragons you heard about in Myths. These were real dragons. First, I'll dispel all your current belief about dragons. They are not myths. They are not Semi-Immortal. They are not indestructible. They are made of carbon to carbon organic bonds. They breathe. They eat. They drink. They live.

Never let anyone tell you to dig. When you dig, you limit escape. Never let anyone tell you to run. They fly, they are faster. Never let anyone tell you to hide, because unless it's magic hour, your toast. When someone tells you to fight, you do just that. You fight.

I'm human. Just like anyone else. Just ask my team. We are Arch-angels. We collect humanities due on the dragon's sky-rent. Now, before I go any further, let me explain a bit about dragons.

Dragons live and breathe. They are like any other creature. They are scavengers. They eat only the ash from things. That ash sustains them. They have a heart. They have lungs. They have all of that inside them. Take it out, take it down. They way the breathe fire, is thus: they take in oxygen, and then expel it, along with two different liquids. Those liquids combust, and well, you know the rest.

They reproduce like fish, and essentially, I would compare them to catfish. They are GODS in the air. On the ground, we can kill them with very much ease.

I don't fight like that.

I fight in the air. I stand on the edge of the chopper. I leap out. I pull my gun. And I can do two things in the air to get back to the ground. I can kill the dragon, or I can crash and burn. I prefer to do the former. And I'm damn good at it too. This is my third jump. I'm a member of the black angles. Our chopper has a paladin on a Pegasus, with Gabriel riding on a red dragon behind him. Hell, that's a perfect job description. I'm the only jumper. I'm the whole freaking crew, other than the pilot, whom we call dingo, although his name is David Mallory. They call me Kai. My real name, however, is Kadan Adrian Ingle. Yes, my last name's German.

I've earned many nicknames, my favorite, is "Kaiser Killer." Also among them are "Tyrale," "Gut-burner," (For my seeming immunity to fire), "Whisky Chaser" (For My habit of taking a swig of Kentucky whisky after a jump), and of course, "Mik-hell." (From the angel Michael.)

Today, we were over Texas. "Dingo," I yelled, "Where's that damn dragon at?"

"Sorry Kai," he said over the com in my ear. "Triangulars aren't up. I can't tell ya shit."

"Damn," I muttered. This was supposed to be a juvenile male. We caught sight of it on a breeding pass three weeks ago. We all came out smelling like dragon juice. My third jump with Dingo. It was my third chance with the greatest pilot. There were 7 helicopters in all: Gabriel, Alpha, Beta, Charlie, Demon, Epsilon, and, as we fondly call it, "The bad luck fuck," or Fennec.

Over my life, I've slain thirty dragons: Three from Fennec, 21 from Charlie, one from Alpha, one from Beta, one from Epsilon, one from Demon, and two from Gabriel. This was my third from Gabriel I hoped.

The Fennec got all the new kids. I'm an Alabama boy. They got me after losing all of the fennec, Ship and all, to the South-eastern male. I was 16. All I took with me on my first jump was a spear, a parachute, and a 45.colt revolver.

So here I was, perched on the edge of a Comanche Chopper, waiting on the Call. Suddenly, when I was sitting back down, it came.

"Dingo," Gaby, our communications expert, said, "It's right on you! Gain Altitude and jump you ass! Kai, Kill it!"

Gaby, Or as she was called by most, "Baby," Was a bit of a fan of mine. She was the first girl I rescued from a dragon. It was an interesting tale. She was running like hell from an adolescent female. It was literally on top of her when we, while I was on demon, were on patrol. She was screaming her head off, at dawn, the second magic hour. It was my third month of being an Arch-Angle. I saw the dragon.

"Char-broil!" I yelled to Charlie, A.K.A, Char-broil, the pilot, "I've spotted one, and its got prey! I'm jumping!" I and Sal, one of the only female arch-angels, were on demon at the time. Then I jumped.

Demon, and Char-broil, and Sal, were the Second In command. It was one of my training Runs. The reason chopper was named demon, and the pilot Char- broil, was the fact that when they jumped, he was usually flying through Flames. Sal has a burn all the way along her left side, foot to face. It happened when she jumped, right before a group of three females, protecting one who must have been giving off an egg, was flying at them. She was aiming for the lead one, while Charlie was firing off his 50 cal. Machine guns. They blasted a wave of flame together, and roast Sal's left side, while they burned Char-broil so badly; it burned every inch of his skin. Although he didn't die, even in the resulting crash, he was nearly cast out of the business. They stayed on, and limped back to base. They killed all of the dragons they were sent to though.

When I saw Gaby running from that dragon, I was dead set on killing it. I jumped, even with Sal yelling "You ass! Don't Jump!"

The air was whipping by me, the helmet shielding me from everything but the intense cold. "Ha," I laughed into the In-helmet Mike, "you'd think you'd get hot, what, with you leaping right into a dragon's jaws and whatnot." With me, all I had was my dart shotgun, courtesies of The Black Angle's armory, and my Spear, now re-forged, thanks to the blacksmith in a previous shelter, and my parachute.

My Spear was a 9 foot long, death tipped pole. I had someone grind down the biggest bone I could find in a dragon, and had myself a veritable war scythe.

The wind suddenly caught my helmet as I looked to find the dragon. "AHH!" I yelled out, whilst the wind ripped my helmet off. I was flying blind. Actually, I was falling blind. The dragon heard me scream, and tail whipped, sending Gaby flying. She hit the ground, and was looking right at me. Later, she swore I had wings. My Shotgun was out as a natural reflex. I aimed, and fired the dart right down the dragon's throat, sending a massive wave of electricity through the inhaling dragon. It choked, coughed up all the air it had inhaled to blast me with flames, and expelled the deoxygenated fluids. As soon as it gasped again, its head burst into flame, sending it spiraling away, where my Spear just clipped its wing. It screeched, and I opened my parachute.

The wind stopped ripping, and I was point blank with the ground. I hit, hard. I rolled with it. I was son looking right into a VERY scared Gaby's eyes. "Look out!" She yelled, and I flipped over, the flaming head of the dragon coming right down on me.

Just before her head got us both in one big gulp, my spear was in my hands. The last thing I saw was the parachute landing over us both. The last thing I heard was a screech of pain from the dragon.

I panted. Gaby Panted. We both panted, hard. "So. uh. I don't think we're dead." She said, holding me in her arms.

"Nope. just under a gods-rotting dragon-bitch carcass."

"Oh. it was a Female?"

"You don't want to see a male."

"Are these things REALLY dragons?"

"Yes."

"Are you a dragon killer?"

"I'm Arch-angel Kadan, 23rd class, Valid Victorian in the Black Angel's school of dragon slaying. This is my third kill."

"Shish, Long name."

"Call me Kai."

"Okay Kai. Uhmm. I hate to ask, but how are we going to get out of here?"

"Demon will come and get us."

"Demon?"

"The Chopper I rode in on."

"Oh."

"What's your name?"

"Gaby Alex Richardson."

I sighed. We spent half a day under that rotting carcass before we could be gotten out.

I smirked as I remembered that, and watched the male fly up from under us.

"See you Dingo!" I yelled, and did a veritable cartwheel out of the plane. My shotgun was already in my hand, and I was pumping shock-darts into the wyvern as fast as I could. It was falling just ahead of me, and I tossed the gun. My spear came out with a flash "Alright bitch, Suck THIS!" I yelled.

The dragon's eye refocused. 'Shit!' I thought, 'The sun set!' the beast did a mid air flip, and came at me, which I used my suit to dodge, although he ripped open a long gash in my arm with his wing. "FUCK!" I yelled. It was no age to be dying at, 19. "You Bastard," I yelled at the dragon, "I'll kill you!"

It flipped again, and came at me, and I dodged him completely this time, and he turned again. God I was wishing I hadn't tossed the gun. He reared back his chest, and his head, preparing for a major roaster.

My spear was out in a flash, and I was diving headlong into the bitch, and before he could say "Roar," He was dead, flaming his heart out as he fell, my spear right in his chest. I hit the breaks in the middle of the air, letting his mass carry him down. My parachute was open in a flash. I landed right in the middle of the ruins of El Paso, Texas. "Dingo, middle of El Paso, Need the flares?" I asked into the helmet-mike.

"Nope, I'm just dropping the ropes."

"Alright, thanks." I said, and grabbed onto the rope ladder, climbing into the chopper, and rolling up the ladder as I got in. He began to hum into his mike the tune of "Homeward bound" and smiled. I smiled with him. That was one less cumstain of a cooze spraying dragon to worry about.