A Twisted Prophecy

Paul Cude A Twisted Prophecy

1 Trick Or Treat

The king had a face like a bulldog licking vinegar off a nettle, while the doctor looked on, suitably chastised. As the bright lights assaulted Peter's eyes and the waft of industrial cleaning agents raced up his nose, the sheer scale of the ward he'd walked into mesmerised him. It was huge... at least the size of a hockey pitch, if not bigger. Steering the group along the wall to their left, the decidedly grumpy doctor weaved in and out of blood pressure monitors, laughing gas bottles and one or two commodes. All the time the three friends were aware they were skirting around what could conceivably be the biggest bed in the world, off to their right. A gargantuan dark blue curtain twenty feet high circled at least twenty five yards around whatever lay inside; it was captivating, but clearly off limits, judging by the scowl on the doctor's face as she looked back over her shoulder at them. Directly in front of them another dark blue curtain, about the size you'd expect in a human hospital, concealed whatever was inside it.

'It has to be her,' thought Peter, barely able to contain himself. As one, the group stopped and watched as the doctor marched around the far side, grasped the curtain and, in one swift stroke, pulled it all the way back, revealing the hospital bed. Peter exhaled loudly as happiness ebbed through him, for the most part anyway. Though hugely grateful she was alive, his stomach churned when he noticed the state she was in. When Richie's body had been recovered at the sports club, he hadn't really paid much attention, due mainly to his surprise at the fact she hadn't perished in the bomb blast that had destroyed the clubhouse. But here and now, she looked as though she'd been beaten by a crowd. Her eyes were barely visible, they were so badly bruised and swollen, and the entire left side of her face was a brilliant purple from some trauma or other. Leaving her face, he glanced downwards, noticing that her right wrist was in plaster, along with her left ankle, and what was left was generally covered in bandages.

'Why the hell haven't they healed her?' was the singular thought that ran through his mind. And he wasn't the only one.

Tank was well and truly appalled. Not knowing what to expect, the joy at hearing his friend had managed to cheat death had been ripped away as soon as that curtain had been drawn back and he'd seen the state of her. Boiling rage threatened to consume him, that is until the cool, calculating part of his brain beat it into submission. Knowing exactly what to do, he'd never before been this well equipped. The knowledge he now possessed was immense, even his sometimes ill-tempered employer couldn't deny that. So instinctively, without hesitation, he acted. Deep inside the repository of his mind, he found what he was looking for. It wasn't fancy or clever, but exactly the right mantra to heal the vast majority of her wounds, here and now. Reciting the words in his head, he closed his eyes and focused his thoughts and belief on his injured friend.

Taken aback, a very unusual occurrence for Flash, in all his time, he'd never seen a dragon in such a state. Clearly something out of the ordinary was going on. The question was: what?

Like never before, the king felt... hassled. A million things scuttled through his head, threatening to overwhelm his very being, in this, the very worst thirty-six hours of his life. Hundreds of thousands of beings across the planet had died, beings that he was responsible for, and he'd been powerless to intervene, only able to sit and watch events unfold. The terrorist attacks, as that's what they'd been, had seemingly stopped, and it was hoped that there were no more to come, the thinking being that the stolen laminium from Cropptech had been all but spent. It wasn't known for sure, but that was the dragon council's reasoning. And now he was here, at the request of the doctors, on a matter of the utmost importance. What could be more important than what was going on across the planet, he simply didn't know. But he was here anyway, and shocked to find the dragon he regarded almost as his own son waiting outside the sealed off ward with his friends. Still having no idea what was going on, his patience was very quickly running out. He needed answers, and he needed them now.

Clearing her throat in a kind of school teacher sort of way, the doctor tried to get everyone's attention, but as time slowed right down, all eyes fixed on Tank standing, eyes closed, right in front of his mangled friend, concentrating for all he was worth. Instantly, the look of authority on the doctor's face turned to one of horror as she suddenly realised what Tank was attempting. Before she could shout, "Stop," the young rugby playing dragon let rip a mantra, the full force of his belief and magic behind it.

In that instant, Flash knew. He didn't know how, but he knew, and as Tank cast his mantra, the ex-Crimson Guard reacted as only he could.

Opening his eyes, expecting to see positive results from his handiwork, Tank instead watched open mouthed as Flash launched himself at the king, rugby tackling him to the hard, mezzanine floor. A moment later, a ferocious burst of magical energy whizzed through the exact spot on which the king had been standing only a split second before, zipping off across the ward, smashing resoundingly into a fancy looking heart rate monitor attached to the far wall, that burst instantly into flames, sending fragments of glass and plastic scattering across the area. Crashing to the floor, Flash had the presence of mind to cast a shield mantra, even though he was currently atop the king. Bullet-like pieces of glass and plastic impacted on the invisible shield, halting in mid-air, while the tinkling sound of them then hitting the floor echoed around the massive room.

Standing stock still, apart from his hands which were shaking violently, Peter couldn't believe the scene before him. Tank was too shocked to move, as Flash scrambled to his feet, pulling the winded king up from the floor. During all this the look on the doctor's face changed from horror to pure rage. Crimson cheeks and a vein pumping like a child inflating a balloon made her look like she might yet be in need of the facilities here.

"ENOUGH!" bellowed the doctor. "You stupid children!" She turned to face the king, her head only inches away from the monarch's tired and weary face. "Now do you see why I didn't want them admitted, why it was they were made to wait outside? Perhaps in the future Your Majesty, instead of demanding and insisting, you'll listen to reason before you countermand my instructions."

It was all Peter could do not to close his eyes, as the last thing he wanted to do was watch the king quite rightly tear the poor doctor apart, thinking too highly of him for that. Tank felt exactly the same way, while Flash hovered behind the king, ready to intervene should things get out of hand. Although quite what he was going to do, he had no idea.

Easing his face forward a fraction, the king was surprised that the doctor didn't move at all, matching his stare all the way. Tense didn't begin to cover it. After what felt like hours, but in reality was actually only a few moments, he sighed, before whispering,

"I'm sorry doctor. You're right of course. I hope you can forgive me. I've had a lot on my mind the last day or so."

Swallowing nervously, the doctor replied,

"I fully understand Your Majesty, and I apologise for speaking to you in such a way. We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. Perhaps we could start again from the very beginning?"

"I think that might be best all round," answered the king. "And don't worry about these three. Braver and more committed dragons it would be hard to find. I trust each of them with my life, as should you."

"Understood."

"So what's going on?" enquired the monarch. "I still have no idea why I've been dragged down here."

"Two halves of a problem Sire. The first is this young female, who has been through quite an ordeal. Brought into us from the blast site at Salisbridge sports club, I have absolutely no idea how she's even still alive. What I can tell you though, is that she's paid a considerable price to still be residing in the world of the living."