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A Firedrake from Misty Lake
Thursday, 5 July 2012 23:15Once upon a time in a country far-far away there was a lake, called Misty Lake for the foggy weather dominating its shores. People said a dragon lived there a long time ago. There was some talk about his treasures in a cave in a mountain near the lake; it was rumored also that young girls were stolen by the firedrake for unknown purposes. There was a popular legend there, a typical sorrowful and predictable story about brave prince on a white horse saving a pretty young princess from the bloodthirsty firedrake´s claws. This story could have been forgotten, transforming into a children´s tale, if there were no continuation; continuation, that left a terrible fear in the hearts of Misty Lake shore’s inhabitants; fear they can´t get rid of even today.
( Read more... )Janet was first to disappear. She was 16, a tall girl from a village nearby. Two days later Liz, 17 years old, didn’t come back home after a school dance. ‘Went there with this slippery Jake, running after her the whole summer’ – said the heartbroken single-parent. Jake, better said, what was left of him, was found in a couple of days; the first prince, trying to save his princess. Then the Ashton twins disappeared. A week later seventeen-year-old Carol, the daughter of the school principal was missing. Police patrols were reinforced by voluntary brigades combing the lake’s shores, climbing Misty Mountain and going down into Misty Cave. Divers examined Misty Lake’s bottom while know-it-alls recited the Suskind’s book and clever ones moved to another state. A fog of panic covered the already misty shores of the Lake pervading the strongest hearts.
Then the dragon appeared. An incredibly big, graceful and stinky animal, who was overlord of the Lake and master of Fear. Police started to shoot and were swept away immediately by fire. The army arrived. Military helicopters patrolled the perimeter and a few tanks aimed at the horrible monster with their barrels. The dragon seemed to be surprised by the unexpected resistance, but, moving back and forth along the shore, dictated a message, cold-bloodedly as if he were a boss addressing his secretary. Somebody recognized an old Indian dialect. After expressing himself, the dragon smiled infernally and dived into the lake with the agility of a professional swimmer. Despite the fact that the lake was surrounded by tanks and no one went out of their houses on that night, a new girl disappeared.
Then there was a lull. The military brought an army ship on a funny platform, covered with khaki-linen. They installed a set of hoisting cranes to launch the ship. The city was surrounded by the army forces. There was no entrance, no exit and no journalists. The sky was stripped by the fighter jet paths. Simultaneously to a few Indians in a commander’s tent a record was played and played again, a terrible voice of a strange creature from a hoary antiquity. More than seventy scientists, frightened and pale, were examining photos, videos and the voice. ‘It wants money’ – was the final conclusion. The commander was furious: ‘What do you expect me to say to General? Moorfowl wants money? I will never sign this report!’
The scientists and the Indians were sent away. A battleship was launched. After using an echo-sounding machine, antisubmarine bombs were launched. The village was shaking the whole night and the next day. Then Alice and Bob disappeared. Bob, who was the village’s only transvestite was found tattered and burned on the next day. ‘It serves him right’ – said the commander, and gave his resignation. Soon the village evacuation started.
In a few days a yellow armored vehicle brought the money. A new commander arrived the same day, a short strong guy with a funny Super-Mario-style moustache. Trembling with fear, soldiers packed the green papers in piles on the beach. A battleship was unskillfully masked with green linen and oak branches. Tanks were pointing at the pile of money. In a couple of hours the dragon appeared. He smelled the pile suspiciously, smiled and then a horrible grimace appeared on his muzzle. Money was burnt in the twinkling of an eye. The creature disappeared before the commander ordered ‘Fire!’ A few warheads flopped down awkwardly in circles on the water, where the dragon was last seen. The next night a new girl disappeared. The commander resigned early that morning.
Of course, this story has sorrowful but happy ending. After a long discussion scientists convinced the military to bring gold on the beach before the next bombardment. A pile of gold bars sparkled in silence for only half an hour. Then the dragon appeared. He greedily snatched the first bar and dived with a content rumbling. In a second he appeared again, suspiciously stared at the masked ship, took another one, and sank into the water for a moment. One by one, holding gold bars in his mouth he carried the whole pile to his secret refuge. Then, with an awful but pleased smile on his muzzle, creature climbed out onto the beach, and spoke again. After short speech (in old Indian dialect, of course) firedrake smiled again and disappeared for good. Young “princesses” were released immediately. Exhausted, dirty and half-dead from hunger they came out of the Misty Cave unscathed.
A military base was founded on the lake, and battleships are patrolling its surface till today. Gradually, inhabitants of the village came back. Scientists started to calculate the damage, caused to the national treasury (they were strictly prohibited to talk about the dragon), and Indians composed a beautiful legend about the events that happened. Military received priceless experience in battles with an unknown animal species. The only sad thing in the whole story was the death of young boy Jake. But his name was immortalized in a beautiful legend, that lived on hundreds and hundreds years after the event.
Ah, there was also the transvestite, Bob, who also died. Well ‘It serves him right’.
