(2 of 2. Originally posted on September 07, 2024 for the prompt “Denim and Dragons”)
Krystle woke with a start, nearly throwing herself out of bed. Heart racing, she extricated herself from the sweaty sheets that somehow twisted around her torso like a boa constrictor. The nightmare that had woken her faded quickly, something about facing down a rampaging dragon, standing between it and a crowd of people. The adrenaline pumping through her body persisted longer than her memory of the dream.
“I guess I might as well get up.” She dragged herself out of bed to the closet that passed as a bathroom in this tiny NYC apartment. The usual cacophony of rumbles and sirens played backup to her singing in the shower. As she toweled off and laid out her clothes for the day, skinny jeans and a denim jacket, the sirens grew louder.
A bestial roar ripped through the air. Something hit the building hard enough to knock Krystle to the floor. Flashbacks of planes crashing into towers sent her into a mind-freezing panic. Her body acted on instinct, going through the motions she’d imaged so many times since that tragedy twenty years ago. She snatched up a bathrobe and ran for the exit.
Her mind played out a dozen different scenarios as she fled the building. None of them matched what she found when she hit the street. Emergency vehicles parked at random angles across the roadway. Crowds yelled and pointed at the sky. Krystle turned and looked up toward her apartment building. She saw flames, and a winged shape diving toward her.
This is how I die. Crushed under a plane. Something about the shape seemed odd. The proportions felt wrong for a plane. The wings too thin. The middle too thick. A thin spot just behind the nose, almost like a…neck? All at once, everything felt surreal. It’s a dragon. It’s my dream from before. I never actually woke up. I just dreamed that I woke.
The creature bowled into the crowd. Dozens of people lay where they fell, injured or stunned. Everyone who kept their feet ran, scattering in every direction. Krystle walked toward the monster.
The dragon froze, jaws open, poised to devour a screaming woman. Krystle felt its attention shift toward her. Her confidence wavered. Too much detail. This doesn’t seem like a dream.
The dragon lumbered toward her, mouth gaping as if to swallow her whole.
Panic tried to claw its way back up from her gut, but she stamped it down again. Too late to run. She acted on instinct, going through the half-remembered motions of the nightmare that had woken her. I am a queen. This dragon will submit, if I command it.
She raised her hand, palm out. The dragon slowed, then stopped. It lowered its head, bowing to her authority.
A voice behind her caught her attention. “Uh…you guys aren’t going to believe this. I’m pretty sure I’ve identified the dreamer. But she’s interacting with the dream. I’ll take her down. But when she wakes up, we’re going to want to interview her.”
Something stung her in the back, punching through the thin fabric of her bathrobe. Seconds later she blacked out. As her vision faded, the dragon dissolved into mist.
