Dragon Story – Part 2

“Well I believe you mate because I had a similar experience when I was young!”

The third guy said nothing but just smiled.

“Tell us about it.”

“It was just as you said except I kept feeding it all kinds of stuff. I even spent my pocket money and went down to the butchers every Saturday morning and bought a bagful of cheap red meat. I was scared of it so I used to open the door a crack and throw it in to the dragon. Outside I could hear it eating the raw meat really hungrily and in seconds there was silence and I knew it had eaten the lot.”

“What did you do next? Did you tell your Dad like I did?”

“No I was scared to. I didn’t know who scared me most my Dad or the dragon. I wanted to tell my friends about it and all the grief it was causing me but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak about it.”

“Do you still have it then?” said the guy who’d killed his dragon.

“No fear! One night I was in bed and I heard a mighty crash from the basement. I got up and ran downstairs. My Mum and Dad were there already and my Dad had a baseball bat in his hand.”

“Stay back my Dad said to me and Mum, I think there’s a burglar in the basement!”

“As he said this the basement door was broken into pieces and the dragon’s head looked out straight at us. Then a flame of fire came from its mouth and nostrils and the baseball bat in my Dad’s hands got burned up in a flash and all the hair on my dad’s head was singed off.”

“Blimey!”

“My Dad shouted run…run for your lives!”

“We turned and fled and didn’t stop until we were across the street from our house.”

Then disaster struck. The whole house seemed to shake and great billows of fire came out the chimney and windows then the walls of the house toppled and the dragon appeared in the middle of the debris. The dragon looked at us and I began to shake in my carpet slippers, I thought we were all going to die. But the dragon flapped its’ huge wings and flew off and I never saw it again. By the time the Fire Service arrived the house was nothing more than a smoking pile of cinders. My Mum started to cry and Dad looked shell-shocked and I felt really bad.”

“That’s worse than my dragon. At least we still had our house.”

The other guy looked at both

of them and just shook his head sadly.

“What about you? Did you have a dragon when you were a kid?” They both asked.

“As a matter of fact I did” he said quietly.

“What happened tell us please?”

“Well my tale is like yours but different as well.”

The other two guys sat waiting to hear his story.

“Like you both I went into my Dad’s old shed and found a tiny little dragon in one of the plastic pots. It was tiny and could barely open its eyes. It had probably just been born!

I picked it up and carefully held it in the palm of my hand. It was no bigger that a small bird’s egg. I looked at it for a while and even though it was cute I knew that if I let it grow it would become a menace to me and my family. Like what happened to you guys.”

“What did you do with it then?”

“I simply closed my hand over it and crushed it. When I opened my hand I could see it was dead. I took it in the garden and got a spade and buried it just by the compost heap. That was the last time I saw it.”

If you enjoyed this story you will enjoy Fred’s ghost story set in Edwardian England ‘Borders in the Mists’ available on Kindle http://tinyurl.com/7sfcvur

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