✮ Dragon's Lair ✮

Park Jaehyung [Day6] || Park Jimin [15&]

fantasy. friendship

Description: He's the bad guy in his own story, and no matter how hard he tries to be the good guy, he'll just never be good. Because that's just who he is. Evil. Will he ever realise just what it takes to be good?

A long, long time ago, there lived a ferocious dragon up in the mountains. For centuries, humans would leave offerings of goats, sheep, cows, and cattles at the highest hill, which they now call the dragon's hill, to appease the dragon. The mountain where the dragon lived in was soon named the dragon's lair. Certain times in the middle of the day or night, they would catch a black streak across the sky, flying across the many villages. Afraid of offending the dragon, villagers would hide in their homes, fearing to wander out until it was out of sight, although the dragon never attacked the village since then. It was almost peaceful.

Almost.

...

I trudge through the winter snow in my torn shirt and ragged shorts. The fierce cold wind blows against my tiny frame, causing the flap of my shirt to fly about wildly. My skin feels numb in the icy cold wind, but I'm used to the cold. My skin's thicker and trust me, I've lived through the winter. 

I watch as people walk through the thick snow, wrapped in layers of thick clothing. The dim lighting in the winter street made the villages look darker and more desolate, but believe me, it’s usually vibrant and bustling with activity in the late nights. I glance around me, observing my surroundings. There is a couple walking back home hand in hand, a family of three laughing away as they enter their dimly lit home. I glance into a nearby home, and catch a father and son cuddling close to each other by the fireplace. An uncomfortable feeling settled in my chest when I realise that I yearned to be like them, to have family, to have friends.

The cold air that usually wraps around me like a blanket suddenly felt intimidating. 

“Hotdogs! Hotdogs!” A gruff voice cut through the stale night and I turn. A man in his thirties with uncombed hair stands by the side of the street, a table filled with steaming hotdogs next to him. Despite his gruff voice, he has a rather clean and welcoming face. He lifts a steaming ‘dog’ and waves it infront of the people weaving through the snow. I frown, squinting at the thing in his hands. It doesn’t look like a dog, I think.

I walk to him, examining the thing in his hands. Noticing me, the man smiles warmly. “Hello, what would you like?” He asks, doing a show with his free hand to the food in the metal trays. “We have hotdogs, steamed buns, hot coffee… anything to warm you up with,” He states. 

I continue staring at the thing in his hand. “…Is that a dog?” I enquire. 

The man looks to the hotdog in his hands and back at me. “Uhh… yeah, it’s a hotdog,” He raises an eyebrow. 

“Can I have one?” 

The man hands me the hotdog, and I take it before sprinting off in the other direction. Realising what just happened a little too late, I hear the man behind me shouting after me to pay. I know that he won’t catch up to me. I’m a fast runner. Once I’m well out of sight, I sigh contentedly, biting into the hotdog. I backtrack however, spitting out the food when I realize that it tastes nothing like a dog. I frown, looking at the hotdog. It tastes like chicken. I shake my head. Deciding that it’s still meat, I swallow it down. 

I’m about to start walking again but a wave of people trudges past me. I feel my senses getting stronger, feel the strong human scent wafting past me, and I feel myself losing control. The human chatter becomes louder, almost hurting to my ears. I shut eyes tight, gritting my teeth. No, I can’t, I tell myself. I’m not going to hurt anyone. I’m supposed to be like a human, remember?

But I feel the hunger in me rising, and it feels like my throat is burning. My vision blurs, my head feels dizzy, and I feel myself changing. My skin blurs in and out, and I run to hide in a corner, afraid to be found out. I clutch the hotdog to my chest, in deep breaths. I fight back, hoping the human in me would take control. I block out all senses, concentrating on the hotdog clutched infront of me. I’m human. I’m human, I remind myself. Slowly opening an eye, I feel the monster in me calm down. I sigh in relief. Around me, people were giving me weird looks, trying to avoid me.  

I’m tired. I walk around the winter streets, and finding an isolated corner, I lie by a tree. I’m honestly tired of being alone all the time. But how am I supposed to make friends if I can’t even be human? When I can’t walk through the bustling streets without losing control? 

Walking to an isolated alley, I begin to change. My pearly pale skin blurs out, evolving to a purplish-black tinge. I feel the inner beast in me evolve, and a low growl forms in the deep of my throat. My face starts to take shape, and I feel my jaw growing out of my otherwise human face. My sharp, white canines grow in my jaw and my pupils dilate, slowly turning into slits. My wings start emerging from my back and my claws start to form. The clothes that I’ve stolen from the garbage rips apart from my body, but I couldn’t care less. I land on all fours just as my elegant tail forms. I shake my body, slowly lifting myself from the ground. I lift my wings up and with one strong flap, I’m lifted into the air. Hunger fills my mind, and that’s all I can think about as I soar into the sky. That’s what happens when I’m in my dragon form. I lose all senses, I start to lose control. Sometimes, I don’t even know what I’m doing. As I soar higher into the air, I take in the snow-filled villages beneath me. A roar erupts from my throat as I take in the cold winter air. Just then, a civilian looks up, and immediately breaks off into a full sprint once he sees me. 

“It’s the dragon!” I heard one gasp, before running into his home. There was a lot of hushed whispers as the villagers rushed to their homes, as if I couldn’t just destroy their village. I fly across the villages, but as I did so, a certain sensation fills my body, and I didn’t like it one bit. Well, at the mention of me, people would be scared to bones. I’ve lived like that for centuries. Scaring people with just the mention of my name, with just my existence. I’m fine living alone by the mountains, and having free cattle for lunch.

But if I had to be honest with myself, sometimes when I see humans having fun with themselves, arguing, fighting, laughing… I’d think to myself, it really must be good having a friend.

I’ve tried to be a human, I’ve tried to be good, but that’s just the thing- in their eyes, I’m just the dragon who destroys the town. 

For centuries, it has always been like that, and for centuries now, it will never change.

I grumble, landing on all fours once I reach the mountains. It’s my home, but really, even the birds and squirrels who live here fears me. I settle into the nest I built, snuggling into the branches, and close my eyes. My home’s cold and isolated, but it’s all I got.

I stare into the clear blue sky, listening to the birds chirp around me, as if making fun of me. I sigh. Once, I tried mixing with the humans, but all I ended up doing was burning down their village. It’s funny though, the first time when I found out I could shift into a human form, I only thought being a human was weak. I couldn’t fly, I couldn’t breathe fire. Yet now as I start to look around me, I would’ve given up my identity as a dragon just to be like everyone. Maybe I could fool everyone into thinking that I’m not the dragon they all fear, but I know that I can’t remain as a human forever. It’s just… it’s just not me. Because I’m the one who ends up destroying the town, the one who everyone hates. And that’s me. Park Jaehyung.

I’ve heard humans call themselves names so they can differentiate themselves. And that’s why I got myself a name, too. 

Changing into my human form, I head back to the winter streets. I search through the garbage, digging through a pile of old rags, some banna peels, even a worn . Trying to find a pair of human clothing in this pile of trash is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. It's impossible. Finally, with my superhuman sight, I catch sight of an old pair of shirt and shorts in a corner and grabbing it, I wear it over myself like how humans do. Seriously, the stash of human trash is so high, I could dig it with a shovel for hours and I'll still not be able to clear everything. Now that I’m all ready, I wonder where to start as a human. How do I start to make friends?

I turn, accidentally bumping into a human. She looks younger than me, perhaps around 11 years old in human years. Technically, I’m 384 years old in human years. To the humans, I'm 384 years old, but really, I look 16, and I'm only 16 years old in dragon years. But perhaps I was abit too strong, I had knocked her onto the snow ful