The creature's sword pierced Tylamthe's flesh like a knife through butter. The cut was quick and precise. Tylamthe's blood fell from its side, killing the nearby plants it fell on. The sword shattered as the acid like blood seeped through its light. The creature looked up at its tormentor. It was over. Then the cut healed as though nothing had happened. The creature froze for a split second, if Tylamthe could heal that quick after such an injury then what would it take to kill it, that split second was all Tylamthe needed. The creature felt a clawed dragon paw (?) hit it, followed by the rush of air then. *CRACK*

Tylamthe was playing with its new toy. He wanted to see how long it took it to B R E A K. The sound of bones and metal alike breaking pleased it as well as the now cracked rock its toy was now sliding down. The toy still seemed conscious and aware. Tylamthe would fix that.

The creature was falling and the pain was becoming numb to him. The paw came once more and slammed him into the jagged boulder behind him. He forced his eyes open to see Tylamthe. The mask of kindness seemed so far away. Had he only just met Tylamthe and someone had described the caring and kind dragon that they thought they knew the creature would have assumed them mad. The dragon's eyes glinted with sadistic pleasure.

The creature felt a weird pain in his head and a bright light filled his vision. Tylamthe's roars of pain were almost unheard as the creature's ears were ringing. ALMOST.

Tylamthe didn't know what had happened. One moment its toy was going limp the next an unbearable pain shot through his left wing. It spared a glance. Tylamthe could see the gaping hole where his wing's flesh had been vaporised by a searing heat of white. In that moment Tylamthe thought two things. One, what is this excruciating feeling in my wing? Two, what does poached blob taste like?!

The paw dropped the creature and it took him a moment to see the hole. He felt something sharp prick his head. He removed the helmet. It was cracked down the back and small fractures seemed to be cracking by the edges of the first. The helmet was damaged but so was the dragon maybe he stood a chance after all.

Tylamthe wasn't happy. Its toy had fought back and the worst part was it H U R T. It seemed that it should break its toy before it got any smart ideas. It's eyes fell to the helmet. The helmet that had won many wars due to its peculiar capabilities. Tylamthe had to destroy it. If he didn't want to kill the creature before (which he really really wanted him dead, Tylamthe's want for the creature to die was equal to little kids wanting McDonald's it couldn't be measured) he sure as fluff wasn't going to let him leave alive now.

The creature saw the dragon 50 metres in front of him. He saw the bloodlust in its eyes. There was no time to run. He made a choice then and there. He stood his ground.

The police had been driving for a while now. They had followed the trail of destruction caused by what bystanders described as 'a goopy torpedo'. The police had gotten onto a boat half an hour ago but had to turn back when a giant red torpedo that looked surprisingly like that red dragon - that was made in Washington DC under the supervision of an old man with a toupee that everyone knew was dipped in Cheeto powder every morning (a/n (^-^) I'm not sorry) who was their 'president' most people didn't know how he became president but many believed there was something to do with Russian hackers botching the votes but that's not important right now. - with a blob of black slime wearing a helmet being propelled along with the dragon. They told the captain to turn around the cruise ship, much to many people's disappointment, though the police-people just ignored the complaints and thrown objects.

The creature felt it before he saw it. The air was dry and crisp with a redolence that resembled burning iron as it left a kiln and was dipped in water ready for war. Then he saw it, the fire. The sky was filled with shades of Munsell(red), blood red, cardinal, Carmine, cinnabar, burgundy and crimson. It's funny how when you're so close to death time seems to slow. The creature blasted the beam of light. The helmet split more under the raw energy it should never have contained. The flame diverged away from the creature. The energy progressing forward against the flame.

Tylamthe could see the light and not in a good way. The energy was slicing through its flames as though they were made of melted butter. Tylamthe wasn't going to let this little ball of rotten play-doh slaughter it. The dragon breathed out, increasing the inferno around the creature. But all it could do was delay it's fate.

The energy had reached Tylamthe's maw and wasn't stopping. The raw energy mixed with the crude blaze Tylamthe had expelled with no air to attenuate it as it was still raw from its jaws. They mixed and the air became a vast sea of reds and oranges, and then a blinding white light filled everything.

The creature's ears were ringing. It was all he could hear. His sight was blurred and painful. He could barely move. He could feel his consciousness slipping away. The last thing he saw was the blurred silhouettes of three officers that were running away or maybe they were coming. It was becoming so very hard to focus.

E N D OF CHAPTER THREE

(a/n 963 words without a/ns 968 with a/ns before this. This took a while I am honestly pleased with how it came out though. Only the epilogue left.)

Posted 26/11/2020