For Rene Sparks, it all began with some ink and a knife. Two dragons, one black, the other one white, appeared from nowhere to adorn her arms when she was only eleven. Their sudden appearance and permanent stains of "imperfection" sent her teetering mother over a cliff of madness to the point where she tried to cut the abominations off Rene's arms. They were the constants in her life, the dragon tattoos and the scars that traced them. Unable to fit in with the normals of society, years later, she was placed in a boarding school for youths with mental health issues, affectionately called the Asylum by its residents. The Asylum though was no haven for the insane and Rene struggled to cling to what shred of sanity there might be left from a failing system of experimental treatments and corrupted caretakers as the tattoos on her skin continue to grow in number. Rene's life was no fairy tale and she was certainly no princess, but perhaps even an insane girl can become a hero when they have some dragons up their sleeves. Cover by ron-faure from DeviantArt http://ron-faure.deviantart.com/

"What the hell?" I took a step closer to the mirror, staring at my reflection in disbelief. The person looking back was still me, but at the same time it wasn't. I had the same thick, dark, curly hair. The same hazel eyes. The same olive skin with a light dusting of freckles (ugh) scattered across the bridge of my nose. But my curls were now streaked with highlights. And not the subtle, golden-brown ones that sometimes appeared during the summer. No, these were an aggressive, dazzling blond that went from the roots of my hair all the way to the tips. It looked like I had spent a full day getting my hair done in some upscale salon. Never mind that I had never set foot in such a place since the day I was born. My eyes appeared somehow wider and more luminous. The colour brighter, my eyelashes darker up against them. And, when I looked closely, my pupils seemed to be slitted almost like a cat. I looked down at my body. My skinny arms-which had always refused to gain any definition no matter how hard I exercised-were lined with flat, wiry muscles. My bony shoulders were now curved and smooth. My scrawny legs were toned like a dancer. I reached down and lifted my shirt, revealing two subtle lines running vertically down my perfectly flat stomach, hinting at the rock-hard abs underneath. My whole body was rippling with strength. Like liquid steel.