Prose Laboratories (V. 1, Pt. 6)
The room is beautiful. Floor to ceiling windows stretches on two sides of the room with a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Hard black wooden flooring stretch across the room with a large white rug in the middle of three couches. A black coffee table sits on top of the rug with white lilies in a vase and the walls are a light blue color.
On the opposite wall without windows, there was an opening leading to a spacious kitchen. 17 walks over there, motioning me to follow her. There were white counters with black cabinets. The floor to ceiling windows stretches across one wall with a door leading to a balcony.
YoungWriter sits at the breakfast bar of the kitchen island and was eating cereal while reading over a book. He looks up at 17 and smiles.
"Hi 17! How was work?" YoungWriter grins. "And who are you?" 17 glances at him.
"Young, this is Just A. Person, or Just for short. She's probably going to be around here a lot. With the dragons and all. Just is the one who created them," she explains.
I ask 17, "17, what happened with the dragon in Kensington Gardens?"
Her face pales. "Oh shit... I knew I forgot something," 17 pauses. "YoungWriter come on, and Just you're coming too." 17 walks into a room, rummages around, and tosses a bundle of clothing at me.
"Put these on so you blend in with us." I walk into the bathroom and quickly change. I put on a brown leather jacket with black jeans and brown combat boots. Throwing my hair up into a quick braid, I step out of the bathroom and meet 17 and YoungWriter at the elevator.
"So," I start. "What are we going to do about the dragon?" 17 scratches her head in thought. We walk towards the elevator I just came up in. While in the elevator, she speaks.
"I want to see if you can talk to him. We'll be there for backup if you can't." The elevator dings and the door slides open. We walk to the lonely blue car once more. I sit next to 17, while YoungWriter sits in the back. Speeding down the exit ramp, and along the road, I feel like my life is falling into place. It's like that feeling you get when everything feels just so right. Like this is how your life is supposed to be like. That's what I feel like.
Then that facade comes crashing down.
By now, all around us is chaos. Pure, destructive chaos. The large crimson dragon, full of hunger and energy, is circling the park. The car stops, and we get out. The guards look at us for a moment with hesitation, but let us go through.
17 and I walk with determination, while YoungWriter looks around us in awe.
He tugs in 17's sweater. "Why do we have to destroy the creature? All it wants is love." That is some deep shit right there kid. Actually, not really, all of us just want love eventually.
17 leans and whispers to me, "Try to talk to it. It's now or never." The dragon has seen us, and flies over in curiosity.
"Hello there, what is your name?" I ask, walking so I can angle my head to look at it.
Ah, another puny human, coming to be eaten.
"No. I am here to talk, that is all."
To talk? A human has never talked to me.
"Perhaps than this can be a first."
A first, and a last. I am the Fire-Breather, the Burner, the Causer of holocausts.
"And I am the Maker, the Creator, the Writer, the Breaker, but to you, like you said, I am another puny human."
I have heard of you. My brother, Destroyer, told me of you as he left. He said he was Peace-Maker, not Destroyer. How is that so?
"I convinced him to change his mindset on life. Won't you do the same?"
"Live with your brother in the mountains, be a peaceful one."
Why? There is no fun there.
"But the thing is, there is fun. You can chase each other, and eat all the animals you want there."
Humans are animals.
You want me to uproot myself from my spot of birth?
"Yes, I know it is not the thing you want to do, but it is what you should do."
But why Creator?
"Because you are hurting these people."
They deserve to be hurt. They are killing this world.
"I know. We are all killing this world. It's a part of the ecosystem." I say, wasting time. "We want, I want, to preserve this world along as we can. Then we can live in peace."
Perhaps, perhaps. But why should I trust you?
"I created you. I am your creator. I can be seen as your mother in ways, why wouldn't you trust your mother?"
I would. But I do not know my mother.
"You do. She is right in front of you."
You. Are. Not. My. Mother.
"I created you. I am. And as your mother, go to the mountains." I attempt to think of a name. "Go Harmony, go and be with Peace-Maker."
Because you are my mother. That is the only reason why. Have a good life mother. With that, the crimson dragon looks at me with his large yellow eyes and flies away from the garden. YoungWriter cheers as the dragon rise into the blue sky.
The tanks fire up and two rockets fly at the dragon. Yelling I put out my hand, even though I know it won't help. Surprisingly, the rockets halt in midair and YoungWriter and 17 threw their arms out too. They lower their arms as the rockets stay in place.
I call out to Harmony, "Fly while you can! Go, be free!" Harmony nods and flies away. My body shakes as the rockets fall. 17 catches them and lower the rockets to the ground. A man in military clad comes walking over, fuming, his face a bright red, blood vessels sticking out of his head.
"HOW DARE YOU DO THAT. THAT DRAGON IS DANGEROUS AND A DANGER TO SOCIETY. WE NEEDED TO KILL IT." he yells, smoke practically coming out of his ears.
Before I can speak, as I am panting, nearly passing out, 17 steps forward. "We are sorry sir, but we had orders from Salinger Twain himself to get rid of the dragon without killing. If you have an issue, please bring it up with him." She walks away and YoungWriter and I follow. Well, I sluggishly walk back to the Accord.
I collapse in the back seat as YoungWriter sits in the passenger seat. The Accord speeds away, leaving what just happened behind. I don't know if anything happens while we're driving to the HQ, but I am shaken awake by YoungWriter in the parking garage.
"C'mon Just, we're here," he says, pulling his head out of the doorway. I yawn and rub my eyes, adjusting to the light. I roll/tumble out of the car, and follow 17 and YongWriter. Shuffling to the elevator once more, I sleepily ride it in silence.
"That was a great thing you did there, though we might of just have angered the government somewhat." 17 runs her hand through he black hair. She sighs and adjusts the royal blue beanie askew on her head. The elevator stops with a jolt and we sauntered out. SalingerTwain was sitting in the foyer, waiting for us.
"Now Just, we need to talk."
To Be Continued (eventually!!)