The Lost Boys • Imagines

Imagine #32 (Part One) - Lost Boys

Imagine an alternate universe where the boys are dragons.

A/n - please check out my new story titled Autophobia • Strange Souls!
It is fantasy/romance, so if you like that sort of thing, please give it a try.
Thank you!

Word Count: 1039

~

"Please don't do this!" You beg your fellow villagers as they drag you by the rope tied to your wrists.

They make no reply, continuing on their grim path up the mountain. You cry unashamedly, horrified that the people you have lived alongside for your whole life would do this.

Every ten years, a person is chosen as a sacrifice to appease the dragons that reside on this mountain. If the ritual is not completed, then fire reigns down from the sky.

No one ever returns after being dragged to the sacrificial spot.

"I don't want to die! Please!"

Your cries are ignored.

They lead you like a lamb to the slaughter and tie you to the large pole stuck in the ground. Then, they depart.

No one has spoken to you since yesterday, as if talking to you would be a sin. You fall silent, realizing no one will help you.

So, you wait.

~

Hours have passed, and you are tired beyond belief. Nothing has happened. Maybe the dragons didn't realize what day it is.

A branch cracks in the distance, causing you to jolt with fright. It's happening now, the inevitable. Death is coming at anytime in the form of monsters.

Your eyes try to pierce through the darkness to find the beings that will kill you, but you find nothing but trees.

A peal of laughter thunders through the forest, scaring you more than a growl would have.

"The sacrifice is pretty this time."

"Yeah, last time it was an decrepit old man."

A fit of giggles assault you from the left.

"Who's turn was it this time?"

Dragons can't talk, can they?

Your eyes search for the forms of giant dragons, but find something unexpected. Or four someone's.

Four men, gorgeous beyond description, stand with devilish grins adorning their faces. You stare wide eyed at them as they get closer.

They wear loose shirts and pants of different colours, one all in black, one in red, one in gold and black, and one in yellow.

"Hello," the one in black with hair white hair says, stopping a few feet in front of you.

You can't think of what to say.

The one in yellow snickers, "You a mute? Or are you deaf?"

"Neither," you manage to defend yourself, glaring at him, "I'm waiting for something."

He hums, "I can see that."

The one with curly hair motions to your bonds, "You don't really have a choice, do you?"

You shrug as best you can, "Whatever."

"And what are you waiting for exactly?" The dark haired one asks.

"Death," you say casually, "I'm supposed to die in order to sate the dragons so the village prospers."

They exchange a humoured look, "Really?"

As if they didn't know.

You sigh as if immensely bored, "Really, I can't wait till they get here. Might find more than they bargained for."

"I'd say we have," the leader smirks.

You didn't know dragons could take the shape of men, "You gonna eat me now? Or do you torture your victims first?"

"Depends on how much we like them. Once, we got this man who was so irritating. Always talking. To remedy that, we cut out his tongue and gouged out his eyes."

An involuntary shiver of disgust rolls down your back, "That's nice."

"Of course, the maiden sacrifices are different. Always crying and screaming. No fun at all, you see," Curly says with a wide grin.

You nod, "Typical. No backbone."

"Yeah! You get it," he laughs and suddenly you're untied. He used a large jewelry knife to slice through the thick rope.

You run your aching wrists, "Thanks, rope doesn't make the prettiest or comfiest bracelet."

"Anytime, sweets," he winks.

Rolling your shoulders, you question them, "So how does this work? Is there a specific ritual before I meet my maker?"

They share another private look, "I don't think you'll be meeting your maker anytime soon."

"Oh? So I get the honour of torture, huh? A slow death," you sigh, "That sucks."

"Not exactly. You see, we kinda like you. You've got some fire. We like that."

You're unsure what to make of this situation, "Let me get this straight. I'm not gonna die?"

"Nope," the one in yellow answers.

"Great," you let out a relieved breath. "I'm Y/n, by the way."

"Paul."

"Marko."

"Dwayne."

"David."

You dip your head in respectful greeting as they say their names, "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," they echo each other.

"Where are we going?" You ask as they lead the way through the trees.

Dwayne walks closest to you, "Our home, atop the mountain."

You glance at the crumbling castle on the peak of the mountain, "All the way up there? I might not make it."

He lets out a sharp laugh, "Don't worry, we'll carry you."

"I can't let you do that. You'll get tired," you point out.

"Not when we change form," Marko quips.

You think about what he means for a second, "So you can change form?"

"Course! We wouldn't be good dragons if we couldn't," Paul shoves you playfully.

"Wow," you breathe out.

David chuckles darkly, "Save it till you see it, honey."

Without another word, he transforms before you eyes. His body grows and his clothes turn into shiny black scales. His eyes are the only thing that stay the same, remaining bright blue.

You can't even find words to express your shock. The others transform, Paul turns into a golden yellow scaled dragon, Marko a traditional red, and Dwayne mix of black and gold scales.

They look down at you without malice.

"Awesome!" You shout up at them.

They tower above you, immense and glorious.

'Which of us would you like to carry you?' David asks, his voice a bit distorted.

You contemplate for a second before answering, "Um, Dwayne?"

David nods his giant head at Dwayne who opens a large clawed foot.

You hesitate to climb onto it, but give in.

'Make sure you hold on tight,' he tells you.

"Got it!"

And, with a sudden lurch, you're flying through the sky in the claws of a surprisingly nice dragon.

This couldn't be farther from what you had expected the day to end up like.