WARNING THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VIOLENCE AND MAY BE DISTURBING. Viewer Discretion Advised
Jonathan Vega was not extraordinary. He had short black hair and a facial structure common in the northwest. Brown eyes and a skinny build. He likes to casually skateboard with Ethan and Elijah, but doesn't do kickflips or anything fancy. just liked to hang out with his two friends.
He was quite ordinary in all aspects, and he didn't mind that.
He wasn't extraordinary, Not by grades. Not by reputation. Not by strength. He was just your typical high school student in his senior year.
But he was loyal. Honest. And he had been Ethan and Elijah's friend since their first year—never asking why the brothers never got sick, or why their eyes sometimes glowed like coals in the dark. Jonathan noticed things. He just… never said anything. Ethan and Elijah were both his first friends, and both of the strange boys accepted him as their friends. Not caring about status or popularity, they just saw Jonathan for who he was, kind and with a big heart. He always wanted to ask the brothers questions about things he noticed, but it wasn't a big deal so he never brought it up.
That changed one night.
It was supposed to be a quick stop at the corner store. Snacks. A drink. Home by ten. And a playlist Ethan had sent to him. His attention was on the riff-ripping metal music blasting in his earbuds.
He never saw the thugs approach from a dark alley. Jonathan was to immersed in the fast pace metal music. These guys graduated last year and, as expected, they became the community's troublemakers. Always getting into trouble with the law. And tonight they set their eyes on our lovable young knucklehead. He walked past a shadowy alleyway and then it happened.
Hands shot out from the alleyway. Jonathan was pulled in by the collar of his shirt. Roughly. And he was slammed against the brick wall of the alleyway.
The sharp point of a knife pressed firmly into his gut. Not drawing blood but the discomfort was pointed and the pressure was unbearable. Jonathan was surprised and in shock by the situation and how fast these hooligans had put him into this situation.
What do you want?! Jonathan asked in frustration and shock.
They laughed: your wallet, your phone and all your valuables. The four men circled around Jonathan. They all had malicious smirks on their faces. Jonathan was in a tight spot. He wanted to fight back, but the dull pain from the blade pressed against him made him reconsider. One by one, they received the valuables demanded. As the thugs received the last of the items, a dark smile creeped on their faces. It was nice knowing you kid, the one with the knife said. As he was about to stab the blade into Jonathan's gut. But just before he did, a brick fell from the rooftop, catching everyone's attention as it splashed into a puddle nearby. What was that? One of the guys hissed out. Looking around trying to find the source of the sound.
Then—
A low, rumbling growl tore through the air. It vibrated and reverberated through their bones. Jonathan felt it in his chest. It was similar to large amplifiers blasting loudly in a concert.
At first, it sounded like a tiger snarling. But no tiger could make the streetlights flicker. No tiger could shake the ground with a snarl that deep.
Fear began to creep into the hearts of everyone, the thugs visible sweating, the knife pressed to Jonathan's gut slowly receding pressure. Everyone's eyes darted around the shadows of the alleyway, desperately looking for the creature that snarled.
And then—
Red eyes. Large. Burning. Like twin furnace cores floating in the dark. Like the eyes of hell opened and declared that their lives were forfeit. Terror grips their hearts, a slow dread taking grip as A shape moved beyond the alley. Massive. Wrong. Unlike anything in nature.
Teeth glistened—jagged, long, like swords drenched in saliva dripping in anticipation. Then the growl came again, deeper louder.
It wasn't a sound. It was a judgment. The sound froze everyone in place, the terror made Jonathan's throat close. The thugs' legs began shaking, their faces twisting with dread. Covering their ears from the deep rumbling of this nightmare's growls.
The windows shattered. Everyone felt the deep reverberation in their chest. Birds exploded from the trees in all directions.
And when the beast stepped forward—
The thugs shrieked. Fear completely shattered their confidence, knees shaking, mouths agape! Tears falling!
Twenty-five feet tall. On all fours.
Wings unfurled like razors of flame, stretching across the street and blotting out the moon.
Crimson and black scales shimmered like molten armor.
Obsidian horns curled wickedly from its skull, carved by ancient bloodlines and war.
It wasn't just a dragon.
It was the dragon.
Ethan.
And he looked at these fools with fury. His Conscience screaming in his thoughts, how dare they threaten what is mine! How dare they try and take what is mine! Jonathan is a friend and any who dare touch him will burn beneath my fury!
The temperature rises and heat ripples from the dragon in waves. Like a hot oven being opened. The heat assaults the faces of everyone but Jonathan.
The group of troublemakers were too shocked to run.
All they could do was stare as the dragon opened its maw—fire spiraling in the back of its throat. Heat rushing forward, the metal near the beast turning cherry red, the air stinging like embers.
Then—boom.
A jet of flame erupted like a cannon blast.
It wasn't fire. It was destruction. Leaving behind a trail of red-hot flames to everything nearby.
The group didn't even scream. They melted skin boiling away. Bones cracked like popcorn, blood and viscera vaporized.
Ash hit the ground before their shadows did.
When the flames died, only blackened silhouettes, and stray embers dancing in the air the only evidence was scorched concrete.
Ethan stepped forward, obsidian-scaled arms flexing, molten embers licking across his scales.
The dragon looked down at Jonathan red eyes narrowed as if inspecting him.
Jonathan Still alive, untouched by flames or heat was Stunned.
Frozen in place, his legs no longer listening. Thoughts of how he's still alive and why the flames circled around him, as if they couldn't touch him or hit a barrier of some sort.
but all thoughts halted in their tracks as those terrible red eyes looked him over, as if sizing him up. Jonathan thought this was the end. He stared up at the dragon and the beast stared right back, it's appearance fuel for nightmares as those glowing red eyes pierced his soul.
And then… it happened.
The change.
Bones cracked. Light bent.
The monstrous form collapsed inward—wings folding into smoke, fire condensing, scales dissolving.
Heat shimmered one last time…
And then, Ethan stood before him.
A boy again. Breathing hard. Shirt torn. Eyes glowing faintly like dying coals.
Jonathan dropped to his knees.
Not from pain.
From awe.
"I should've told you," Ethan whispered. "But now you know."
Jonathan passed out a second later—his mind drowning in the impossible.
Ethan caught him before he hit the ground.
He carried his friend home. Told Lora he got jumped but was going to be okay. She believed him.
She made Ethan stay the night.
She didn't know.
She couldn't have known.
That her son's best friend was a dragon—and that he now slept in the next room, curled up in mortal skin, still smoldering with fire that could end worlds.