Chapter Two
My Dinner With Malcho
As Malcho flew toward the scents of food, his eyes picked up aerial motion in the distance. Not wishing to spook his quarry, he quickly dove toward the ground and flew below the treetops, using them as cover, his body snaking through the canopy of leaves effortlessly.
Soon, he heard noises ahead of him. Opting for stealth, he landed and began to slither over the ground. When his approached a clearing, Malcho cautiously raised his head to observe what was transpiring.
In the clearing, he observed an injured human male, a relatively older one, by his estimation. There was nothing of obvious value, for his clothing was in tatters. There was a large crimson stain on his left leg, and a makeshift bandage was wrapped haphazardly around his head. He was attempting to use a walking staff to fend off a flock of half a dozen buzzards who considered him to be tempting entree.
Malcho's forked tongue ran over his scaly lips. In a deep whisper, he spoke to himself. "Ah, decisions, decisions, decisions." After looking at the scene for a moment, he made his decision. With a bellowing hiss, Malcho exploded from the underbrush.
Upon hearing the sound, the wounded man gasped in fright and turned just in time to see a blur of purple. Then it was gone and he was bowled over by the gust of wind in its wake. When his eyes focused again moments later, he was shocked to see that three of the buzzards had simply vanished, and a fourth was lying unconscious over thirty feet away, it's broken wing sticking up at a frightening angle. He heard flapping to his left, and saw that the other two buzzards were frantically flying away. Hearing a deep whoosh, he blinked and saw that the blur of purple shot into view and passed over the furthest scavenger. When it moved on, that particular buzzard was nowhere to be seen. The remaining buzzard, seeing what had happened to its cohort, wheeled around and flew back toward the stunned observer. Within seconds, the purple blur had turned around and caught up with it. A sudden turn was made by the purple creature, and a sharp crack, like the sound of a tremendous whip, was heard. A second later, that final buzzard plowed lifelessly into the dirt at the feet of the frightened human.
Shaking in abject fear, the old man looked up as the huge purple creature landed. He was amazed to see a gargantuan winged serpent, with a mane of purple hair atop its head, two thin antennas that looked oddly out of place, and a bushy feathered tail. It seemed to take no notice of him at first, choosing to instead slither across the ground to the broken body of the farthest buzzard. With a swift movement, the carcass was snatched up and lifted skyward in the creature's enormous jaws, which then devoured the buzzard whole. It ran its forked tongue over its lips, then turned toward him. Filled with terror, the old man dropped his staff and tried to back away. The giant serpent slithered over quickly, its eyes seemingly focused on the dead buzzard before him. In an instant, the body of the bird was snatched from the ground, brought up high, and swallowed with unearthly speed. Its tongue once again ran over its lips in apparent satisfaction of a filling meal, and it hungrily salivated, anticipating more. The old man felt that he was going mad with horror, for he could have sworn that he heard this huge creature speak.
"Six feathered scavengers, all of them tasteless and rancid. Not nearly as delicious as that accursed parrot will be when I catch up with him."
After that statement, the huge beast turned its attention to the trembling human, and slid forward. As it reared back like a cobra about to strike, the old man clutched the remaining present for his daughter, a brightly colored doll, to his chest, and prayed to Allah that his end would be swift and painless.