The Hunter Becomes The Hunted

Chapter 14

In the distance, you could not make out flames from burning sunset upon the wheat-lined horizon. Your eyes burned from staring at the figure curling in the sky, wings casting shadows from covering up the sun and her warm summer rays, people fleeing from the shadows and smoke and flame growing closer to the village.

A dragon, a dragon was burning down the land.

You could see it perfectly when it curved in the air, flames spitting towards you all gathered in front of the tavern.

Dread sat deep and heavy in your stomach as if it were a cold lead ball.

You could see her purple and orange scales and flanks perfectly as she passed right over your heads, winds carrying smoke and ash, whipping your hairs and clothing around as if you were all caught in a terrible wind storm. You started to cough, the smell of the fires now catching up to you, your eyes watering as you clasped your hands over your mouth and nose. It burned your lungs, your heart feeling as though it was slamming against your chest harder and harder with every beat. Your vision swam, swaying from side to side as if you were down with a sickness.

But through your haze, your eyes still locked onto the dragon as it curved through the air again, its small jaws unhinging and fire pouring from its mouth as it if were steam from a large cauldron, fire blanketing homes and huts as smoke swallowed up innocent men, women, and children one by one.

The dragon's wings folded closed slightly, its small, lean body falling until it perched itself on the wellright in front of you all. Its small, clawed, scaley feet wrapped around the old stone bricks that poked through the ground's surface.

It was a small dragon. All of the dragons you heard of from the adventurers that often sat in the tavern were gigantic, the size of one, two, maybe even three castles. But this one that sat in front of you all was not as big, bigger than Jesse, but not as big as Reinhardt.

It's amber eyes slowly open, slit onyx black pupils rolling forward and thinning at the sight of you all. Its small black lips curled back to reveal sharp, yellowed teeth. It was a female one from what you could tell, as it was missing an important... organ, not to mention the indentations on its scaled chest acting as possible breasts.

Perhaps she was turned into that as punishment? What could she have done to anger a witch?

Her eyes set on Torbjorn who stood behind you, you could feel him shrink away and you could hear him grumble in some other tongue. Did she know him? Did they know each other before she was turned?

Jesse cocked back his gun and aimed it right at the dragon's forehead.

"Get outta 'ere if ya wanna go back to your horde of gold coins, dragon," he sneered.

The dragon's eyes slowly closed, and when they opened, the lids slowly dragged over the eyes just like any other lizards. Her pupils were so thin, you would think she had none if you were to have just seen her now.

"McCree," she hissed, her orange throat bobbing as the embers in her chest burned a brighter yellow. "The Count seeks your head on a silver platter."

"Get inside," Jesse growled softly to you. "Get 'em inside."

Ana, Genji, Jack, and Torbjorn ushered you in, their hands wrapping around you and quickly dragging you back inside of the tavern. As soon as the heavy door slammed shut, Jack braced the handle with one of the nearby wooden chairs.

It was if the tavern was left alone for a while. It was so silent, you could hear the field mice that sleep in the basement. No candles lit, not a soul manning the bar, no central fire lit, tankards and steins abandoned and turned over, alcohol spilling between the cracks in the stone floors. Food scattered around the floor with glass and porcelain. Shields dented, weapons forgotten, helmets with no head to protect and gauntlets hollow, no fingers to protect from fire or palm to stop blisters or knuckles from getting bloody.