Content warning: this chapter contains disturbing, gory imagery including vivisection and murder of a child.
Jake lay on an operating table in a sterile-looking room, strapped down at the ankles and wrists and surrounded by scientists in hazmat suits. His normally light tan skin was pale and clammy. His mouth was gagged, preventing him from defending himself by breathing fire.
"And now for the first incision, we'll see the inside of a dragon's chest cavity to see how they breathe fire," one of them said while the others watched attentively. He brought a scalpel down to Jake's sternum and began to press, then sliced downward before spreading both sides of his ribcage open. Jake gasped around the gag, trying unsuccessfully to cry out in complete agony as he was soaked in his own blood, thrashing against the bonds that held him.
But still, they cut, and they cut, until he collapsed and the light faded from his eyes.
And all that Trixie could do was watch, helplessly, screaming. "No! No! Noooo, please, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I take it back! I take it back! Please!" There was nothing, she knew, that she could do to save him.
Yourfaultyourfaultyourfault a voice hissed from nowhere, echoing, permeating her thoughts, and Trixie sobbed with the crushing guilt of knowing it was. It should have been you.
"Trixie? Trixie, baby, you gonna be okay. Just wake up...wake up...wake up…"
What was Grandma doing here?
Suddenly the world started shaking, and Trixie woke up. Her face was still wet with tears. And there was no lab.
"What is with you, child?" the old woman asked gently from Trixie's bedside. "You been having these bad dreams every night for the past week. Always crying and yelling in your sleep. I think we gotta get you to the doctor soon, honey."
Trixie smeared at the drying trails of saltwater on her cheeks with her palms. "No Grandma, I'll be okay. Just a dream, it's not real."
She spent a few more minutes reassuring her grandmother that she was okay before Grandma conceded and limped back to bed.
It had been a dream. Just a dream.
But it could have been real. And that was why she kept having these horrifying nightmares. Had she and Spud been just a second too late at the Hoboken Institute, had they not stumbled across those photos on Jake's laptop, had they not come to Jakey's gramps - who turned out to be way nicer and more patient with her and her ignorant human self than she felt she deserved, considering she almost signed his grandson's death certificate - it would have been real. Trixie would have been responsible for the murders of who knows how many magical creatures...wait, was that the right word or was it rude? She hadn't yet worked up the nerve to ask Jake or his family many questions about magic, knowing he never would have trusted her if he knew the truth about how she found out. Trixie was actually surprised she hadn't been given any kind of memory potion to forget what happened. After all, Jake might not know the truth but his gramps sure did.
Had that dream been real, scientists would've had easy access to Jake's DNA, and Trixie had seen enough spy movies to know that could be traced back to his mom, his sister, his gramps, even the freaky talking dog "puppet" who'd insulted her when she'd screamed. The dog could be related to him too for all she knew. His dad would have found out, and one of the first things Jake had told her or Spud was that Mr. Long was human and didn't know anything and it was fine if they wanted to ask questions but could they not do it when other humans were around? So, like, Jake's dad finding out would have been really bad, probably. Trixie had seen him scream over a cotton fuzzy on his shirt because he thought it was a spider. Five times in a row.
Okay, wow, she was so tired that her thoughts were scrambled. She sighed and went back to sleep, hoping for actual rest for once.