The Baby Dragon Shifter

Capter 2 HUNT

As far as I saw it, David's order to stay in my room stood only when he was home. Therefore, two hours later when the front door opened and slammed, the tinkle of keys preceding both, I put my coins back in their shoebox and stuck my head out into the hall.

David's scent trail was laced with a terrible, faintly musky, chemical cologne. The smell was eye-watering and I sneezed. I didn't know how he could stand it on his skin, following him everywhere.

Hoping to escape it, I toddled into the kitchen, again following my stomach. This time, I had no problem opening the fridge; David hadn't cared that I'd done so yesterday. Closing it afterwards was what mattered. I'd hoped to find some more meat, maybe some of the bacon and egg David had eaten earlier, but there was none. There was no more pizza either. I could tell with one sniff that the apples were bad.

Angry, I pulled at the ketchup lid and when that didn't work, threw the bottle on the floor. It stayed stubbornly closed even after bouncing off the linoleum. Not one to give up so easily, I tossed the relish and mustard too. One skidded under the dishwasher where I promptly forgot about it, and the other came to rest next to the ketchup. The lid popped open.

"Open!" I crowed, pleased with my success. I bent unsteadily to pick up my prize and immediately squeezed a bright yellow globule onto the floor. Giggling, I did it again.

This might have gone on for a while, but, as fun as it was, I was hungry. So I smacked one chubby palm into the goop, splattering my ankles. It didn't smell too appetizing, but it was in the fridge; it had to be food. I admit I was a bit apprehensive despite this logic, and carefully licked my hand with the very tip of my tongue. Normally, I will eat just about anything - had it been the ketchup or relish, I probably would have sucked down the whole bottle - but the yellow slime was disgusting. My face screwed up in revulsion, and I quickly wiped my tongue off on my shirt. When that failed to completely eliminate the taste, I ran as fast as my little legs could carry me into the washroom to gulp down mouthfuls of water.

After I'd clambered off the toilet, stomach still gurgling with hunger, I began to cry. Fat, salty tears dribbled down my cheeks and my frustrated wails echoed off the walls. I was only two after all. Sniffing and rubbing my nose, I eventually returned to the kitchen. I tidied up the best a two year old could, laying the ketchup and mustard on their sides on the bottom shelf of the fridge and smearing the mess on the floor with a clean dishtowel. Leaving the cloth to cover the spots I'd missed, I quickly decided I would have to find food elsewhere.

Frustratingly, the lower cupboards seemed to be empty as well. One held pots with no noodles and many of the others were bare. Finally, I found one with a bright cereal box. I sniffed, remembering past mornings where David had put the cereal in a bowl with milk and a spoon. Pulling the box out, I decided it would be perfectly fine without milk. Or the spoon. Only there was a hole in the bottom of the box. In the plastic bag I found another hole and only a small handful of dry cereal. I ate it fast. My stomach clenched around the tiny offering and let loose another angry growl.

Throwing the empty box aside, I poked my head in the cupboard and sniffed for more. Instead, I found little round droppings. Eyes narrowing in thought, I leaned forward for a closer look. There was something else living in the house, something small, I concluded with great surprise. I sniffed close to the droppings, wondering what it was. It smelled - I flipped through my mental scent bank - like the bottom of David's shoes. Like dirt. My eyes flashed open and I snatched up the box. The hole, I saw, had been made by little teeth. While I had been ready to accept a little creature living in the house with me, eating my food was unacceptable. I had to find it.

I sat down and closed my eyes, focusing as hard as I could on listening. Everything made sound. If the little creature was still in the house, I'd be able to hear it. The fridge however, with its obnoxious humming, usually ignored, was too loud.