Contaminated

Explanations

The first thing I noticed was a creeping tingling sensation all along my body. My eyelids were heavy. I tried to open them but they just slid closed again.

Why was everything so dark? how long had I been asleep? And who was that dragon who had rescued me?

My head was so full of questions that I didn't notice when the door opened. not at first, anyway.

Then someone was standing over me, unwrapping something on my chest. The huge paws were surprisingly gentle.

Weird. Was there always gauze on my chest? It seemed to be all over my limbs and tail, too.

I forced my eyes to open and stay open.

The dragon standing over me was...huge, to say the least.

His scales were mostly black, with a crimson underbelly and markings around his eyes, which, oddly, were two different colors. Blue and green.

His eyes flickered over my face, and he noticed that my eyes were open. "Back to the land of the living, I see." he smiled, and the corner of his mouth betrayed relief.

I tried to open my mouth to speak, but my mouth was incredibly dry.

I swallowed and took a deep breath. "Who are you? Why did you save me?"

He hesitated. "Asgard. My name is Asgard. And you don't think I would seriously just let them kill you, do you?"

I drew in another shuddering breath. There was something going on here. No one, especially not a Dyslikian, would risk their own life to save someone else's. I would save that question for later, though. For now, it seemed like I could trust him. "Why am I numb?"

"Better numb than screaming in pain. I've never seen so many bullet holes in one person. You could play Robocop."

"Where am I?"

"You're at my place."

I blinked a few times and looked around.

We were in a dimly lit room, about the size of a small warehouse. It was plainly furnished, with a large block of a flat screen TV sitting on a desk in the corner. There were windows on one side of the room, allowing early morning sunlight to filter in. I was on what appeared to be a large cot built for dragons.

"How did you find me?"

"How indeed?" he  finished rewrapping my chest, sat down and scratched his ear thoughtfully. "It's a long story, and it's 75% luck." He picked up a bottle of water off of the bedside table and took a swig. "However," he added, "We've got time."