The Greatest Gift Pt. 1

Liz strode amid the rows of houses, her bright red eyes taking in the beauty of her neighborhood as the winter sun cast its golden rays down amid the eves and smoking chimneys. At length she approached a large two story dwelling that carried the sentimental value attached to the place one called home, dropping a hand into the upper half of her two piece garment (hidden beneath a heavy cloak) to extract a ring of keys. Jingling the metallic teeth-ridden objects the dragon fitted a smaller member of the bunch into a lock just beneath the door's handle, giving it a slight twist to swing the large oaken portal wide.

With a relaxed smile Liz slipped inside, closing the door behind her to shut out the season's sting. Sighing contentedly the obsidian scaled woman made her way towards a large fireplace in the entry room, taking in a deep breath to puff out a single ember amid a stack of dry logs. Almost immediately the room became alive with the warmth of the blaze, the hungry fire licking at the edges of its stone containment as waves of heat rippled out to tickle the dragon's skin.

Again the home's owner gave a contented sigh, removing her outer layer as she lay across a large, comfortable couch that adorned the center of the room. She stretched out comfortably and set her hands back behind her head, brushing back her long, silky white hair moments before the mind-numbing temperatures and the stress of the day sent her falling into the depths of sleep.

* * * * *

From the back of the room I watched the home's ruler closely, ensuring she was truly resting before I made my move. My feet scuffed slightly on the hardwood floor as I dashed from the crack in the wall, my head held high as my breath puffed out rhythmically from the strain on my muscles.

It took me nearly thirty seconds to dash from my home-within-a-home to the base of the couch, a place where I allowed myself a brief rest. I quieted my breathing, forcing my lungs to take in their bounty slowly to ensure that the ragged intake of air would not awaken the slumbering giantess – a being whose ankle would have been a challenge for me to reach. To be found was to die; as a human, a creature no better than a rat back on Earth, I would undoubtedly be exterminated on sight.

At length my body was sated with rest and I took off again, a tiny blur against the dark brown on the ground as I set my sights on the second checkpoint of my journey. Several moments later I found myself atop the lighter wood that marked the kitchen of the dragon's home, a place where I yet again took the time to rest and ready my muscles once again.

Walking along the tan surface, my breaths drowning out the quiet pitter-patter of my strides, I reached the side of a large drawer. Here I gazed up at the ceiling so impossibly high above, my lungs continuing to inflate and deflate like the rising and falling of the ocean's waves as I considered the difficult task before me.

As my body quieted yet again I realized I could deny the fact no further: I needed to move, to complete my business and be gone before the home's other denizen awoke from her afternoon nap. Stilling my resolve I grabbed one of the intricate designs carved into the drawer's wooden surface, my knuckles going white as I heaved my miniscule frame up to the second handhold, a symbol that resembled something akin to a flower.

Inch by inch I climbed the great wooden wall, my lips a snarl of resolve as my nostrils flared with heavy breaths. It was well over three minutes before I reached the top of the countertop that lay above my inanimate opponent, a place upon which I gladly took my third rest.

Looking around the granite cliff I searched for the next leg of my journey. Just above me – though well out of my reach – was a cabinet, a place in which the slumbering monster in the room beyond stored a number of non-perishable food items. The backpack slung across my shoulder, should I reach my destination, would be stuffed to the brim with bits and pieces of crackers, chips, and other such precious foods that would last me, with any luck, through the holidays.

The problem, of course, was reaching the cabinet.

Reaching into the bag on my back I fished out the two items I carried with me: a long length of string and a small, bent paperclip. Attaching the latter to the white strand I formed what amounted to a grappling hook, giving the object an experimental twirl beneath my fingers as I fixed my eyes on the handle of the far-away Promised Land. With a twist I sent the self-made lasso helplessly wide, cursing myself as I watched the paperclip fall into the nearby sink.

With a sigh I reeled in my creation and tried again, meeting equally disappointing failure as the metallic hook slammed into the upper cabinet to fall back to earth with a humiliating clink. I built up my resolve and turned my gaze skyward for the third time, giving my final attempt in my trinity of throws.

The clip swung around the circular handle, fixing itself in the exact position I desired. My gaze shone with pride as I gave the string an experimental tug, ensuring it was as sturdy as I believed.

With my morale boosted sevenfold I began my climb, handhold over handhold drawing me closer to the lip of the cabinet. Sweat trickled across my face as I fought the urge to wipe the perspiration away, holding myself to the sole goal of reaching the lip. It was difficult work, especially considering I could only use my hands; air did not make for a good foothold, after all.

After some sixty seconds I was half way up the short climb. Though my muscles were crying my heart was singing, telling me I was so close to being able to eat my fill – what, to my kind, amounted to a Christmas dinner.

Yet my hopes were dashed, the song in my chest dying on a cracked note as I heard a great yawn. My blood ran cold as I heard a shift among the leather of the couch, the gut wrenching noise followed by the booming of footsteps of a being whose size was beyond my comprehension.

I attempted to rush my ascent, several quick pulls drawing me a few feet closer to my goal. It was then, however, that I realized the futility of it all; it would take me some two minutes to reach the lip of the cabinet alone, nevertheless to pry it open, scoop up my prize, and slide away among the kitchenware.

With a defeated growl I slid back towards the marble surface below, hoping to reach solid ground and scurry away before the master of the home realized she was not alone.

* * * * *

Liz rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she entered the kitchen, giving another yawn through the closed lids. Scratching the back of her head as if to peel away the remaining dregs of exhaustion that plagued her mind she approached one of the room's cabinets, pulling it open to slide forth a box of popcorn. The wooden door closed behind her as she slipped over to the microwave, placing the package in and watching it inflate beneath the heat as she yawned yet again.

After the finished meal had spilled into a ceramic bowl what remained of the instant-popcorn box was returned to its proper place; but it was in the return trip that the dragon noticed something out of place.

She gave a scowl of distaste as she noticed the thin string dangling from the cabinet, bending forward to examine it more closely. Though she initially expected some sort of spider to have survived the chill of the season only to find its unfortunate way into her home (and she truly hated spiders) she found herself blinking in confusion as she noticed the inanimate intruder was no strand of silk but a carefully knotted string, a tiny contraption on which a single paperclip hung.

With dexterous fingers the woman set the bowl down at her side, untying the length of thin rope from its place of honor to hold it up curiously before her great red gaze. She tugged at it experimentally and found it to be sturdy enough to survive the treatment, clearly showing it was well made.

"How odd…" she mused, turning to place the white strand on the tabletop behind her. With that she replaced her attention on the find to that of her bowl, blindly reaching back to slip her fingers in among the white kernels. Her touch, however, met something much less flakey and soft and she took her hand back to once again look down in curiosity.

Her crimson eyes widened and a scream split the air.

* * * * *

The shriek was painful to the dragon but, to me, it served like some sort of sonic weapon. Having slipped along the side of the shallow bowl in order to grab a meal – something I found to be more a stroke of luck than anything, considering my recent failure – I realized only how vulnerable I was, exposed amid the openness of the countertop.

Playing off of the dragon's surprise I dashed away along the edge of the kitchen's outer wall, searching for a place to hide. Behind me I heard the thundering crashed of my pursuer's footsteps and I knew immediately that I was in trouble.

* * * * *

The shock of the encounter still lingered in Liz's blood as she made her way along the side of her large kitchen counter after the tiny intruder. She could practically feel the panic flowing off of him, the fear that charged his blood and fueled his strides as he glanced around a room – simply massive to him – for some flicker of hope.

The dragon, in truth, felt sorry for the human. He was clearly desperate enough to make a move so close to a being so large and, in a way, almost cute in his motives. The thought of killing the tiny scavenger did not appeal to Liz; on the contrary, it appalled her. Instead she planned to capture the fleeing creature, perhaps to reward his – and she was sure it was a he – bravery with the meal he had initially sought.

But, of course, the youth just a few inches ahead of her harbored no thoughts that she would even consider such a course. He saw a rampaging, angry giantess; he saw only death in the great red eyes that regarded him with simple sorrow and compassion.

The small advantage the human held quickly fell away, dissolved in the pace of two enormous steps on the part of Liz. Her hand reached out, attempting to snag the miniscule form dashing across the countertop. Yet as the fingers closed in the youth seemed to disappear and, with a surprised exclamation, she found herself clutching nothing but the room's warm air.

She looked around, wondering if the tiny body of the scavenger had shrunken down into something even smaller. Instead she found the culprit to be the metallic rims of her stove's burner, the thick black wiring having gaps just wide enough to hide the small form shuffling about beneath them.

With some level of distaste the dragon attempted to work her claws between the interlocking bands, groping for the form that lay just beneath. Luck was with the smaller being as the fingertips stopped a hair's width from his face, the bases of the digits – thicker than his body – unable to pass further.

The thought of turning on the burners themselves entered Liz's mind. She pondered the possibility at length but, in time, realized the rush of flames would almost certainly kill the cowering boy as opposed to simply scaring him from his hiding place.

Instead she turned to a drawer just behind her, keeping her gaze continually jumping back to the burner as she fished about within it to ensure the human did not attempt to bolt.

Eventually her hand emerged victoriously from the jumble of kitchen appliances, a thin wire clutched between her claws. Returning to the burner she fitted her find beneath the rings of the burner, its tip jabbing at the intruder's thigh almost immediately. Under the touch there was a small gasp and Liz winced, worried that she had inflicted some great harm to her quarry.

Her fears were dispelled a moment later though as her prey started a steady track towards the far side of the stove, hiding beneath his metallic safe haven as the wire continued its work. Like a sheep being herded towards the inevitably nearing gate the boy was pushed steadily back, the wire adjusting its course accordingly each time he tried to double back on himself to remain beneath his shelter.

At length the human was forced to make a mad dash and hope for the best, passing from beneath the stove's cooking conduit towards a second burner towards the back. Almost immediately the dragon's hand slammed out, attempting to catch the fleeing form that had offered her so much intrigue. Again she was thwarted, however, as her fingers fell spread apart; with luck on his side the youth managed to slide between the split digits and slip yet again into a place of safety.

* * * * *

I panted against the side of the second burner, a dull pain throbbing in two points along my thigh where the deadly wire had left its mark. The skin was not split but it was clearly bruised, the dragon clearly revealing her terrible strength in even the slightest of her prodding.

My rest was short lived as I saw the tip of the spear-like strand of metal making its way into the slight depression beneath the cage above me. Looking past the burner I could see the intent gaze of the demon that wielded the terrible tool, her unholy red eyes seeming to gleam with a sadistic pleasure as she took up the chase yet again via her painful instrument.

I skidded to the side, away from a jab at the hands of the wire. The weapon came back around, seeming to stare me down for a moment as though it were a charging bull. Then it stabbed forward, nicking me along the shin and causing me to collapse. I gave a gurgled grunt of pain as I scooted backwards, my rear skidding along the ground as I attempted to yet again avoid the kitchen-style javelin.

The dragon looming above me seemed to relent slightly, the wire slipping back towards her ever so slightly. She seemed almost to be hesitating, evidently under the pretense she had caused me some great harm. The implications were far from optimistic, however; God only knew what she planned for me if she wanted to keep me alive.

I had heard tales of certain humans becoming food for such monsters. The larger denizens of the world – humanoid wolves, dragons, and other manner of creatures – never actually went so far as to capture, package, and ship my kind out as some sort of wicked snacks, but it was not unheard of for a small scavenger like myself to make his way down the throat of his homely host, very much alive.

Certainly not wanting to allow the dragon to indulge in her unfathomably brutal torture method I delayed my sprinting from beneath the burner for as long as possible, regaining my footing and dodging around the metallic rod as it came in again and again. More than once it landed a painful blow against my abdomen or thigh, and once the deadly spear nearly took out one of my eyes as it slid just to the side of my head. I was clearly overmatched and overpowered; what was more I was quickly tiring while the dragon had the simple task of just flicking her fingers to send me into a weary dance of evasion.

At length I forced my resolve to build and edged along to the back of the metallic ring, feet away from the danger zone. The monster made to strike at me again but, instead of dodging to the side, I made a desperate lunge that became a sprint as the safe haven I had come to know fell away, opening me to the vastness of the kitchen.

Half a dozen steps fell under the open ceiling before there was a terrible crash in front of me, the result of a falling hand many times larger than myself. I let out a strangled cry and attempted to run around the barrier of scales and claws but found that the wall had collapsed over me, hiding me in darkness as the organic prison closed in to form a dome.

Terror gripped me firmly as I reached out, my hands pushing against her fingers as though I would be able to move them with my laughable strength. A giggle of sorts came from behind me and immediately a shiver gripped my spine, my mind making the connection that I was trapped and at the mercy of the merciless.

There was a shifting all around me as the dragon moved and I braced myself for the worst, half expecting the walls to close together in a death grip. Instead I saw a brief flash of light, a gap that opened momentarily at the base of the woman's palm. I thought to make for it but, as soon as it appeared, the blaze of electric lighting vanished again to the dull gray rays filtering in through tiny cracks in the reptile's fingers.

Before me a single object lay: a piece of popcorn akin to my own size.  I approached it cautiously, trailing a hand along the palm of the dragon as I approached. Again a cute bout of laughter shook the titanic frame and I gulped, wondering why the goddess was toying with me instead of simply ending my dwindling time in the world.

Having no appetite I sat still for several minutes as the dragon's slight shifting continued around me, her frame clearly infested with the disease of giddiness. At length, though, even her patience dwindled down to something smaller than my own body; it was then that there came a more deliberate shift, the tensing for something.

And then the hand flew away and the great hand shot forward, wrapping me up tightly amid a tangle of fingers. I was lifted from the countertop in a flurry of motion and terror, watching the floor fall away as I rose to a height well over one hundred times my own stature.

As I gazed into the horrid red eyes I found myself paralyzed, captivated by all the unholy potential that lay deep within. All I could do was remain helpless within the warm grasp, waiting for what the titanic being planned to do next.