"How wonderful," a whisper drooled down a smile onto the freshly-polished skull balanced across Randall Wellen's hands and wrists. A look of accomplishment sparkled in his eyes and through the reflection of the remains of a bear he saw himself as he wished he were.
The beast mirrored his expression, smiling and proud, sharp fangs reaching towards a bottom lip, and rough hair across its body. Randall closed his eyes and imagined running through forests on four legs, howling at moons, sleeping in caves, and ripping apart anything that stood in his way.
The sound of the museum door opening pulled him out of his vivid thoughts and daydreams. It was 10:48 pm and the only other person with a key to the building was on family leave.
Randall stood still, debating pushing the mask of creature's remains on top of his face and viciously ripping apart whomever crossed into his territory, like some sort of dangerous beast. He sniffed the air and held his breath, ready to pounce on the predator lurking near him.
"Excuse me, Mr. Wellen?" A deep voice echoed throughout the room and rang into Randall's ears.
"We're closed," his voice spun back to the unknown intruder like a wooden boomerang.
"I'm-uh- I'm aware," slurred stutters got closer and Randall thought out a plan to turn this unwanted guest into prey if needed.
Suddenly the unknown man was in his sights and he watched as his boots stepped closer and closer.
"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Randall spat, trying to sound intimidating, but the curiosity slipped out of his mouth with the words.
"My name is Francis Black, and I'm here in search of a possible fossil and-," he took one more step so he was directly in front of Randall, "-and in search of you."
Tier looked up, examining the man in front of him. Early 40s, tall, buff, scarred. Randall gulped up at the awkwardly-close stranger and asked with fake confidence, "What do you need?"
Francis looked around the room, avoiding eye contact with the young brown haired boy. Still scanning the room with his eyes, his lips parted and his words spun out. "Do you know anything about," he paused, closing his eyes, "dragons."
"Dragons?" Randall, slightly confused, let the question slip through his lips without thought. Francis stopped his scanning and met eyes with the boy he had been researching and stalking for months. He nodded his head in response, eyes asking Randall to answer his question.
"I'm sorry, Francis, but I don't keep knowledge of Dragons. Perhaps you could try another museum, potentially one that is open." Randall turned his body to walk away from the older scaled man who so rudely entered his sanctuary without permission.
"Wait!" Francis quickly begged for Randall not to leave yet, grinding his teeth together out of embarrassment of his sudden plea. Wellen stopped and slowly turned back to the man he left behind.
"Y-y-ou and I are alike, you know. I know what you are and I understand. I'm only looking for someone to understand me." Randall's heart stopped at the stranger's words. It's impossible for him to know, right?
"I don't understand what you are talking about. Please sir, lea-" The young man was cut off by desperate yells of Francis. "I see you. I can see who you are. You and I both are beasts caged in this civilized world and neither of us can satisfy the animals we really are." He slowly stepped up the tile to stand face-to-face with his wanted companion. "I need someone to understand that I am so much more than just a man, so much more than just Francis Black. That I am…" he began to breathe heavily as his voice dropped and coated his throat, "the dragon," he roared out his words, sending shivers up Randall's spine.
