The King, Reborn

F3 Cycle 58: Wending Our Way With Chuck Wendig (The Challenge)

F3: Cycle 58: Wendig Tales (The Results)

“Come on in, baby. We been waitin’ for some love,” said the man in the ticket booth. Except, he wasn’t a man. Or a woman. It was more of a reptile – dark green skin, scaled and rough like sand paper.

It stood and crossed the booth to make change for our tickets, his enormous tail swinging back and forth making his white, sequined jump-suit ripple and glimmer in the incandescent light. It was fascinating to watch; a miracle of modern genetics.

It had taken scientists a generation to extract and harvest the DNA from the dinosaurs fossils in disparate locations around the globe; another generation to piece together the fragments in a recombinant DNA sequence that was capable of being grown into a fully viable dinosaur.  The first trials were a historical failure, violent and deadly, but eventually it worked; dinosaurs were reborn on earth. Then, they were reborn again with human DNA enhancements; speech, coherent thought, and the ability to learn.

Blue Suede Shoes blasted from the big tent. The crowd screamed. Loud and piercing, the hoots and hollers from the audience drowned out the music. It was either a bloody massacre or an amazing show. Maybe both.

“Sounds like they havin’ a great time; You ready?” it said, flashing a hideous smile filled with razor-sharp teeth.

“Yes sir,” I said, a little too politely.

“Good! Everyone remember the first time they see Dinosaur Elvis. T-rex performin’ t’night. He do an amazin’ Heartbreak Hotel!  Watch out for blood on the floor,” it said, with a deep, growling laugh as it waved us into the tent with its tiny arms.

Emmy and I walked quickly down the ramp into the open arena, a stench of raw meat and copper-tinged blood filled the air.

“What are we doing here?” she said under her breath, “I can’t stand the smell.  Please, let’s go.  We can get the ‘D’ on the street.”

“Come on Em,” I said pleading, “Jack said the best D we could get was at this Carnival.”

“I know, but look at all the blood,” she said, gagging. “I hope it’s only cows, like they say.”

The arena floor danced with shadows cast by the glow of the torches lit high around the periphery, pools of dark red liquid at the entrance to the dressing rooms.   The dinosaur actors on the stage floor were building an immense and impressive pyramid when a small raptor came up to us and introduced itself as Cecil.

“What a couple of nice white kids like yourselves doing at the Carn-ee-vall?” it asked, drawing the last word out as it’s lips pulled back exposing a deadly array of teeth.

“Just enjoying the show,” Em said.

“Sure, sure.  Just like all the other human kids,” it said, waving a paw at the audience.

With the lights so low I had only seen the enormous performers jumping and stomping around on stage.  But now, I could see that dinos filled the arena, some were even dressed in clothing.  It was unsettling how they continued to adopt more and more human habits. Before long they’d be demanding the right to vote and eating at our restaurants.

“Your right, Cecil,” I admitted, hoping to save face, “I suppose it’s obvious we’re not here for the show.  We’re, ah, looking for some, um, vitamins,” I said, using the slang word preferred by the black marketers of the illegal drug known as ‘D’.

“Ah. Yes you are,” it said, clicking its claws together. “What makes you think we sell any, ah, vit-a-mins here?”

“I have a friend that said he picked up a few vials here; you come highly recommended,” I lied.

It seemed to work as it put its paws on Emmy and my shoulders and led us down a hallway toward the back of the arena, talons clicking on the floor in a steady rhythm.  Clear bulbs hung from bare wire fixtures, dimly illuminated the dingy hallway as we descended under the floor where the performers where still entertaining the crowd. Emmy squeezed my hand hard enough she was cutting off the circulation, but I didn’t say anything for fear of Cecil changing its mind.

We turned the corner and stopped at a door marked Dinos Only.

“You sure you want some D?” Cecil asked point-blank. “Nice kids like you; what you need with dinosaur blood?” it whispered.

“I think, maybe, I do,” said Emmy, her voice muffled by her hands being held over her mouth as she chewed on the end of her sleeves, “I can’t sleep anymore.”

“A’right, come on then,” it said, a sorrowful look crossing its eyes.

The effect was something like ecstasy but much milder and the high lasted for hours and hours.  It was completely undetectable by the time it wore off, which was why it was so popular.  The only known side effect was that in some people it had the exact opposite reaction; complete, unbridled rage.

Cecil opened the door and we entered an utterly dark room.  My heart leapt into my throat, a sense of panic rising as the door closed behind us.

“Lights?” I asked, my voice cracking, “I could use some light.”

Cecil walked a few steps and pulled the chain on another bare bulb hanging from the open ceiling.  The room was empty except for a small cabinet on the far wall and a table in the center.  Cecil eyed me for a moment, then crossed the room, opened the cabinet and pulled out a small, wooden box which it set on the table; Cohiba Lanceros was written on the top in a flowing script.  The box was beautiful but ancient.

“Three hundred credits for four ounces,” it said, sighing.  “Or, if you want more, I’ll give you a ten percent discount for more than eight.”

“Twelve,” spat Emmy, her eyes narrowing.  “I mean, I think we’d like twelve.”

Cecil looked at me and cocked its head to the side.

“Twelve, huh?  That’s…” its claws moved as it counted, “nine hundred, minus ten percent is 810.  Make it an even 800,” it said with a smile.  “I like you kids.”

I smiled at Cecil and waved at Emmy to give it the money.  She pulled out her wad and peeled off eight hundred credits.  She held out her right hand, clutching the credits, and then extended her left hand to accept the D.

“What, you don’t trust me,” Cecil said; it seemed truly offended.

“I don’t trust anyone,” Emmy said, an edge in her voice.

Cecil shrugged and placed the three vials in her palm, which she snatched while tossing the credits on the table.  I hadn’t known her that long, but her behavior seemed odd; out of character.

“Em, we can wait until we get back to the car,” I said, but she turned and walked toward the door as if she was going to leave me in the basement.

“Thanks, I guess.  I’ll let Jack know you were a good sport,” I said to Cecil as it picked up and counted the credits.

Unexpectedly, I heard one of the vials pop. I turned in time to see Emmy drinking the D in one smooth motion.

“Hey, save one for me,” I said, laughing.  Cecil saw it before I did; she had taken all three at once. Since it knew much better than I what to expect, it leapt for the door trying to escape.

Emmy let out a deep, throaty moan as she turned; a new set of razor-sharp talons slashed at Cecil, cutting its throat deep and wide as its body slammed into the door and crumpled to the ground. She raised her head, her deep amber, reptilian eyes tracking me as I stumbled over the table and slammed into the wall next to the small cabinet that held the rest of the D.

“Wha, wha, what are you!?” I screamed as fear and confusion enveloped me.

“Evolution,” she hissed, “You humans treat dinos with such cavalier disrespect even though we are far stronger and smarter than you.”

She slowly circled the table as I watched her skin change from the smooth, porcelain white I knew to a scaled, gray armor.

“I am the first of my kind.  A true hybrid between humans and dinos and tonight was my first test,” she said crouching near me.  Her hot breath washed over my fear contorted face.

“T-t-t-t-t-est?” I stammered.

“Yes,” she said, hissing slightly as her tongue had narrowed and lengthened, “I was designed to switch transform between human and dino at will.  It’s painful, but manageable.”

“How?” I asked, trying to stand. She put her paw gently on my shoulder and pushed me back down to the ground.

“I drink the blood of the person, or dino, I wish to become. I have no idea whose blood I drank, but I’ll find out soon,” she said, a tail growing from her lower back.

“What about me?  What are you going to do with me?”

The last words I heard were her answer; “Why, next I’ll become you,” she said, raking her claws across my throat.

_______

F3 Cycle 58 : Wending our Way with Chuck Wendig [Link]

Cross posted to protagonize.com [Link]

[Shortlink]  http://wp.me/p20zcv-4b

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