Pact of Dragons

3

Why the monsters demanded them at all, Rahel wondered for the umpteenth time.
Sure, they were human sacrifices and the dragons had the literal fire-power to back their demands, but Rahel somehow didn't believe that they bound them to stakes and ate them alive, like in the Middle Ages. No...maybe that was the consequence for the disobedient people, the ones who tried to make a run for it, but not for all of them. After all, the dragons saved the normal population; it was only the criminals who were brought to them. God! If she could have crossed herself, she would have. May God help her—burning alive was a truly horrific thing. She'd already experienced it. No need to do that again. Besides, she was no witch. Then again, it doubtless went pretty quickly—if it was really hot, then surely she'd pass out after just a few seconds of hellish agony...
Oh, shit...
No.
She couldn't afford to think about it anymore. Anything but that! She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath, stroking the armrest lightly with her fingers, without really feeling a thing. Her fingers were numb, her skull vibrating with pain.
It was all just too surreal. Her emotions went blank as soon as she thought this, almost as though someone had flipped a switch and turned her off. She could neither cry nor rage. She had, after all, been sleepless for a few days and nights. She was tired enough to fall asleep on her feet, so extremely weak, rung out.
Rahel continued to calm herself, biting her lip to keep herself from thinking of the doubtless white-hot fire the dragons spewed.
No, not that. They wouldn't burn her alive—not immediately. They needed her for...other things. Things that no one would freely allow to happen to themselves. Maybe they ran experiments on the tributes...maybe they just wanted a few workers for the fields, or the kitchen or, what was most likely, whores in the bedroom.

At that moment, the noise level went so high and shrill again that several guards tumbled out of their fore-cabin and rang the bars with their cudgels.
Feeling cold and empty, Rahel shook her head and caught a catnap, until, at some point, she felt the airplane land. They had arrived. Suddenly, everything went very quiet. Too quiet.
They taxied slowly to a side track. There was nothing to see out the window, only the runway and, just beyond it, a strip of high grass and then primeval forest. That was it.
Rahel's stomach was tying itself in knots by the time the plane came to a standstill and the turbines were shut off. Now all the wards and the guards emerged from their cabin, including the woman who seemed to be responsible for her and the junky girl, arriving next to her with two glasses in her hands. She opened the cage with a shit-eating grin.
"Another one, to say goodbye, right, Rahel? Wait, no cold turkey withdrawal?" The guard asked, astonished, as Rahel smirked at her unhappily.
"I told you already, but you don't seem to get it. I don't take drugs, never have, never will. Nobody seems to give a fuck, though, so let's get it over with. I seriously can't wait to be with my family again." She said flatly as the guard set down the glasses and untied her. Rahel began to pass her towards the door with a sinister expression on her face. The guard looked at her, brow wrinkled, and grabbed her arm.
"What are you talking about? You can't wait to be with your family? You haven't had a family to be with for a long time," she said sharply.
"Yeah, exactly. Six months feels like forever. Don't believe that burnt-out asshole who faked my files—I had a great family. When they all died in an accident, that's when I went into the home. Great, right? I had to leave my house and school, lost control of my inheritance, then someone screwed me over and now I'm here.
"It doesn't matter now. It won't be long now." But she wasn't finished—the words started coming faster, in a monotone rush she could hardly control, the outpouring of so much pent up sadness, loneliness, loss. As she spoke, she stared intently into the guard's surprised eyes.
"My pop was a researcher at the University of Frankfurt. He studied dragon law and behavior. He always said, the dragons don't actually need us in their lives, but when they keep asking for us girls of child-bearing age, then it's because they're using us as breeders—like parasitic wasps, they deposit their young in our wombs, where we have no choice but to carry their spawn until they're ready to be born and become dragons, to chew their way out of us. And then—that's when we die.
But then my life—or really, my death—at least has a modicum of value for you self-satisfied asshats, right?" she finished, ever flat and emotionless, and tore her arm from the grip of the woman, who was looking at her at a complete loss for words. Rahel followed the Asian girls who'd just been released from their shackles. They made their way to the lowered gangway. One of the Asian girls looked really green around the gills and was talking to the others in such a strange, hushed tone that Rahel couldn't help but stare, her eyes wide.