Dawn of the Dragons

4: Mark of the Dragon

Aphilia's P.O.V.

He grinned a rotten mouthed smile and I internally gagged, trying to keep my face blank. Why, of all days, did I have to be subjected to this bullshit? I was pissed, no, I was furious. Something inside of me was feeding anger into my system, making me as dangerous as the two people. I was a trapped animal, they had me backed into a corner and they knew it. The shocks from earlier coursed from my eyes to my entire body, making my rage swell. The thing is, I didn't even know why I was so angry. My brain tried to rationalize with my body, but I wasn't under my own self control. Something deeper, feral, animalistic, was over driving my nerves and senses. I acted on pure primal instinct and shot out with the heel of my hand, catching the man in his wide nose. He cursed and collapsed inwardly, holding his face and the woman behind me moved slightly. Turning my body sideways so that I had access to both of them, I thrusted my foot between hers, hooking it around her left ankle, making her fall. She was down on one knee in a proposers position, staring up at me with venomous eyes. The man straightened and wiped the small amount of blood from his lip that had ran from his nostrils. As liquidated hostility ran through my veins, I swiftly slid around the man, now at a better vantage point. Once again acting on instinct my hands went to his head, one firmly pressed on the left side of his jawline and the other on his left ear. Without thinking, I twisted my arms, his head rolling with them. A sickening crack filled the space around myself and the stunned lady, his eyes glassy and his body limp. The woman blinked once, twice and as if the reality of the situation had finally hit her, she began screaming. I'm pretty sure that when she didn't stop I ran back the other way, unable to look at the body. My neck burned and it spread down my shoulder, the shocks hadn't left yet. Maybe I was having a stroke, or a heart attack, maybe even an aneurysm. Skidding, I scrambled with my hands in the dirt, coming to a stop in front of a building. Turning, my back against the wall, breathing heavily and scared to death. What did I just do? Did I really just kill someone, kill that man? I panted, the severity of the situation was hitting me. Flashes of the man's body, the sounds his neck and spine made, caused a gag to rip through my throat as I dry heaved. The anger from earlier was gone, left with a fiery sensation that spread through my own neck and shoulder. Reaching up, I pressed my palm and nails into the raised skin, hoping to relieve some of the pain. It felt like I was being branded, the radiating pain coursed through my upper body. I layed my head against the cooled, rough brick building and inhaled deeply through my nose, exhaling loudly through my mouth. My eyes watered as the fire coursed through the rest of my arm and settled into my right wrist. I needed to go. I needed to see someone...I needed someone to tell me what was happening to me. Mohtni...he seemed to know about me...or something about what this pain was. Peeling myself from the wall, I cradled my arm, taking unsure steps back to the little shop. I don't know how far away it was, this part of town was unfamiliar. My feet were moving on their own at this point, all the pent up energy was gone and I felt like collapsing on the road where I was walking. I finally saw the door of the little shop through darkness edged vision and tried to run to it. My feet dragged with each step, finally catching on a rock and I went down. That was it, the darkness had caught me and I couldn't fight the pain anymore as it caverned through me. As I lie there surrounded by dirt and grime, the bell on the door sounds and two tanned feet stand in front of me. "Poor girl. Time to come inside." Grabbing my uninjured arm he attempts to lift me from the ground but his hands slip and my face meets the dirt once more with a thud. "Sorry sorry! You have to help me, I can't lift your dead weight alone." I let out a pained gasp as he tries again and I do everything I can to get my knees under me. "I don't know what happened, but I'm sure you can tell me all about it when we get inside. Now come on, stand tall." Placing my arm around him he stands, pulling my drained body with him. Had there been anyone around, I'm certain they'd find it comical that a man so small as he is could be hoisting myself over his slightly hunched back and hobbling me into the store. My mind was blank. No fear, no worry, just pain that wouldn't go away. The bell chimed again and the only sounds inside the shop were my labored breathing and the faint click-clack of Mohtni's sandles smacking the tiles while he hoisted me inside. Sliding me down into a chair behind the counter, I cradled the burning arm to my chest and let out a pained whimper, "Why does it hurt so bad? There's nothing there!" He didn't answer and went about collecting items off the shelves and throwing them into what looked like a mortar and pestle. A few minutes went by before he repositioned himself back in front of me with a paste that looked suspiciously like henna ink. He reached for my arm and I jerked back when his hands made contact, it made the burn worse like fire was going to pop out of my skin. Tutting under his breath he reached again and took hold firmly applying the paste as I writhed against the burn. "Stop! It's stuck." Confused and in pain, the words he spoke made no sense. "What's fucking stuck?!", I snapped at him while he rubbed the stain harshly into the skin of my forearm. His hand moved quickly as he bopped me in the forehead and gave me a glare, "Swears don't sound good coming out of your mouth, do not speak that way." Flabbergasted, I asked again with less harshness, "What's stuck?" Nodding approvingly, he continues to rub the thick paste into my arm and cover it with a bandage before speaking again. "The mark. It refuses to bloom, that's why it hurts. This should help but don't remove the wrappings until there is no more pain or it will restart." He did a great job of answering questions without really answering them. "What mark?" There was nothing I could see, especially now as I was wrapped from collarbone to fingertips. The dull aching burn felt like icy hot now, the poultice he rubbed into the reddened skin adding a coldness that wasn't touching the fire that coursed through it. At least it was seemingly bearable this way, but I still felt like the energy had been leached from my soul. I was tired, the kind of tired that makes you want to sleep for the rest of your life and never wake up. "Do you have anyone waiting for you at home?" His lilting voice called from the front door where he was turning the music off and grabbing more wrappings and herbs to restock what he had used. Truthfully I didn't, just an 'aunt' who didn't care where I was or who I was with as long as I called and said I was safe. I didn't know where my phone was and the watch on my wrist was broken as it had been for years. I only wore it because Andrea, the 'aunt', said it was my mom's before she passed and the time it read was when she died. A morbid reminder, but it helped me feel closer to her in a way. "Not really, I just need to call and tell my...Andrea...that I'm okay and will be home soon." Shaking his head, he pitter-pattered his way back to me and pulled out an old rotary phone from under the counter. "Call with this, but you won't be leaving until the mark is done. I cannot gaurantee your safety outside these walls. We have a lot to do once it fully blooms." Cryptic, but understandable seeing as I hadn't been gone from here long before meeting the man and woman. The man! I had completely forgotten about him. I was going to be arrested for killing someone! "Mohtni...I did something before I came back here. I really didn't mean to, it just happened. I wasn't even aware of what i did until he was dead! What am I going to do?!" I was hyperventilating, darkness kissed the edges of my vision as a panic attack spread through me. My heart was going to explode, I couldn't breathe. Mohtni stared at me, his hand still gripping the old phone as I fought to control myself against the fear desperately crawled through my body. "No...you didn't." I shook my head furiously. I knew I killed him, I felt his neck snap. I saw his lifeless eyes when he fell. Mohtni placed his hand over mine while I continued to struggle, gasping for breath that constantly refused to enter my lungs. "He was already dead. Living corpses brought to life by sinister happenstance. We can go check, if that is what you wish, but there will be more at this time." He paused to look at my convulsing body, "And you are in no shape to deal with them." Nothing made sense, not a damn thing! After a few more minutes my breathing was steady enough to make the call but no one answered so I left a message, "Hey Andrea, it's me. Just letting you know I'm okay and won't be home tonight, I'll call again tomorrow in case I won't make it back again....love you, bye." Mohtni placed the phone back under the counter and continued with restocking the shelves as I sat waiting for him to tell me more. "I don't understand any of what's going on. What am I supposed to do? Why do I have a 'mark'? How was the man dead already if I killed him?" The tiredness wasn't mixing well with the confusion and I was so exhausted all I wanted to do was sleep for a year. The man ignored me until he finished cleaning up, the store now a mirror image of how it was hours ago. Opening a door in the back, he ushered me to follow him and I stood on wobbly legs. Grabbing the counters and shelves for support I slowly made my way to the room, watching as he puttered about getting a cot put together. "I can't answer those questions or I would have already. You'll know when you wake up." Cryptic. Pulling out a comforter and thin pillow from a chest, he placed them neatly on the bed before grabbing a small canteen out of the cabinet and pouring it into a small cup. "Drink this, it will aid your slumber. Doesn't taste good so finish it fast." He wagged a finger at me and continued making the bed up. Sniffing the cup it smelled like strong herbs with the slightest whiff of something sweet that I can't quite place. "What's in it?" I asked quietly and he just turned towards me and placed a finger on the bottom of the cup bringing it to my lips. Muttering 'drink' before tapping it and turning back around. Before I could second guess myself or snap at him for never answering me I chugged the thickish liquid and smacked it down in the bottom of the open cabinet. It numbed my throat and left behind a sickly medicinal taste similar to remnants of a Goody's headache powder. "Can I have something to wash it down with at least?" Chuckling, he smoothed the creases of the bedding and placed his hand on my shoulder, "No." and walked back to the front of the shop, softly closing the door behind him. Tchh, of course. I was alone, with nothing to comfort me but a small dragon statue placed on a shelf above the cot. A lilting song played over the speakers in the shop, muffled through the closed door but loud enough to be heard. Taking a seat on the cot I fold the thin pillow twice and place it under my arm, lifting it from my side so that it's elevated away from me and lean back against the wall. While studying the statue, a foreign wishy-washy feeling takes over my head and it's getting harder to stay awake. There's no point in fighting it as I place my other arm under my head and lay down, finally able to rest. Right as my consciousness fades, three words ring through my mind and get trapped in a dream, "Meyz, sahrot dovah."