Rites of Passage

"Hey faggot!" Derrick called out as he approached. "Where's your rich fuck-buddy now?"

"He's around," replied Arlen, "where's the third stooge?" It may not have been smart for him to antagonize an armed felon, but he figured maybe that way Derrick would kill him quickly rather than by some sort of beating or torture.

Derrick leveled the shotgun at Arlen's chest and it looked as if he would pull the trigger. Instead he answered, "He's still in the hospital. If I ever see that rich guy again I'll blow him to pieces. How the fuck did you heal up so quick?"

"He knows some really good doctors. It turns out that the critter you tried to kill was his favorite pet. He decided he owed me a favor."

"So who fucked who, sissy boy?" the other one asked as he spat tobacco juice on the ground.

"I'm not one to kiss and tell, but I'd be happy to do it all over again." replied Arlen as he looked for a way out. If he could just get a few yards closer to the bridge, he could dive into the river and escape. "You got the guns, I have the time. So tell me, what the fuck happened to you?" He took another step towards the bridge.

"Your rich boyfriend knows martial arts. That's why next time I see him I'm gonna fuck him up the ass with this thing." said Derrick as he lifted the gun in demonstration.

That was what Arlen was waiting for. He ran the last few steps toward the bridge railing and leapt over the side. The shotgun went off but the pellets passed overhead. Unfortunately the bullet from the revolver struck him in the side. He doubled over in pain and hit the water all wrong. The impact nearly knocked him unconscious and the water was cold. He struggled to keep his head above water as the swift current carried him away into the darkness.

"You stupid fuck! What did you shoot for?" Arlen heard Derrick scream at the other.

"You shot first asshole ..."

Arlen pulled himself from the river a mile or so downstream. He decided that he must be going into shock; he didn't feel cold anymore. He pulled his shirt up and looked at his wound. It had stopped bleeding, surprisingly but he was wondering if he could make it to the hospital before he died. He had to get the bullet out. That was the main thought in his mind as he got up to start the three-mile walk toward help. As he walked, holding his side, he felt something in his hand. It was the bullet! It had fallen out of the wound! He took another look at the wound and noticed that it had closed. It was still sore, but it had closed.

As he laughed at this he finally notice something else every bit as strange; he could see everything as if it were a cloudy day! His watch told him that it was quarter past two and there was no moon tonight. It was already obvious to Arlen that Sep wasn't quite human. Apparently neither was he anymore. Of course it made sense in a twisted crazy way. He'd lost his junk during sex after all. Why not gain a better set of eyes and some crazy-fast healing powers in exchange? Despite his soaking-wet clothing, he decided to head straight for home and see what the new day would bring. His truck and home were just the way he had left them three days ago. He went into his trailer, undressed and passed out in his bed. He didn't even bother to take a drink of whiskey first. He had no desire for one.

A loud knock startled Arlen from a deep sleep. He looked at the clock. It was only seven! "I work nights, what the hell do you want?!" he hollered out without leaving his bed. He was hungry. He couldn't remember when he had last eaten.

"Arlen Murphy this is the police. Could we have a talk with you?" sounded the answer from the other side of the trailer wall.

Arlen pulled on some pants and walked to the door. The pants felt itchy, like they were full of ants. He opened the door. "Yes?"

"We have a witness that says you were in an argument with Derrick and Grady Phillips early this morning. Do you care to comment on this?" asked one of the two officers.

"Yes, it happened."

"Do you care to comment on why you failed to report that they fired on you?"

Arlen thought on this for a moment and then replied, "They missed. Am I required to press charges?"

"No sir," answered the lead officer, "but we do find it strange that you didn't and that they were both found dead in their homes this morning."

Arlen's surprise was genuine. "How?" he asked.

"We were hoping that you could tell us. Their bodies were torn to pieces. The coroner couldn't find some of the parts." replied the officer. "Would you be willing to let us search your property and will you submit to some testing and questioning?"

"Yeah, sure. You mind if I get dressed?" ...

Arlen was sitting in the back of the police car on his way back home. His clothes bothered him when he had put them on a couple of hours ago. Now it felt to him like they were on fire. "Could you just let me out here?" he asked. "I'd like to pick up a couple things in town while I'm here."

"Sure." answered the officer as he pulled over to let him out. "Please don't leave town. We may have some more questions."

Arlen walked away from the car as calmly as he could and entered the store. He then went straight through the store and out the back door, running for the cover of the nearby woods. When he got there he tore all of the clothing from his body. It had broken out in sores and the skin was starting to peel in places. "Great!" he thought to himself, "How do I explain this in the emergency room? The fact is I can't. The rash maybe, but never this funky-looking twat." He reached down to pick up the clothing and found that just touching it burned him now. He dropped the clothing and looked at his fingers. They weren't too bad, but then he noticed his fingernails. They looked more like claws. He rushed home as fast as he could while keeping to the trees and brush; the brush sometimes tearing at his skin.

By the time he got into his house he was starving. He looked in the refrigerator and cupboards and could find nothing that appealed to him. He then tried eating some hot dogs but they came up almost immediately. Same with the milk, even the cracker came up. He had to eat. There, behind that box was a mouse. He could hear it and even smell it. He grabbed the box and snatched up the mouse in his hand with a quickness that surprised him. Without a thought he dropped the rodent in his mouth and swallowed. It stayed down. He needed much more than that small morsel but at least now he knew what he could eat, live prey.

That stupid little dog that lived next door started barking. It had been barking for no apparent reason for the last seven years. He opened the door and looked out. No one was around. He dashed out and snatched up the old dog, killing it quickly with a bite to the back of the neck and bringing it back into the trailer. That stringy old thing tasted better to him than a twenty-dollar steak. He ate it all. That made him sleepy so he decided to go to bed for a while. He would have to call in sick. Anyone who would eat a dog and enjoy it was most certainly sick. As he passed by the mirror he noticed that some of his skin had fallen off. Underneath the fallen and loose patches was new skin. It was scaly and dark green in color. His eyes too had changed, hopefully sometime after his examination at the police station. They too were green and resembled those of a cat.

"Ah shit, this day's just getting better and better!" he said out loud as he threw himself on the bed. That lasted all of two minutes as he discovered that the sheets felt like the clothing he had needed to abandon.

"Oh no!" he muttered to himself as he remembered what Sep had told him. 'You will abandon all that you have known up until now.'

Arlen looked outside his door. When the coast was clear he made a dash towards the nearby woods. After travelling a short distance, pausing only to eat a couple of frogs he had found along the way, he settled in to a quiet spot to rest. The ground smelled so good and felt so cool under his body that he immediately fell asleep. He would never approach his trailer again.

When he awoke his head itched. As he scratched, his hair and scalp fell off in clumps so he took the time to finish the job. What he felt was a scaly head and what seemed to be the beginnings of a set of horns. He then ran his finger along his teeth and not only felt long, sharp points, but also more teeth than he was used to having. His claws had lengthened dramatically as well and had become hooked and very sharp. It occurred to him that he probably looked a lot like that little pet of Sep's, Feene. His back had also begun to itch and he could feel that there were two lumps protruding from it. Before moving on he decided to take a shit. That was a new experience! It came out looking like a big bird dropping and his tail (My tail?) brushed against a tree as he turned around to get out of the small hollow where he had been resting. The weirdest part of it all, for him, was that it all felt so natural until something was brought to his attention. This body felt right to him, or was he now a she? He decided not to investigate that yet. No telling what these claws of his might do to whatever was inside.

He continued wandering about in the woods not sure what to do next. It was made clear to him that he would have to confront some representatives of humanity before Sep would take him back, and he wanted Sep more than anything. He got a little wet just thinking about him. He would not stray far from town.

Arlen had caught a scent of something tasty. A rabbit, he thought. He began quietly approaching from downwind. As he spotted the rabbit in a small clearing ahead, it was brought to his attention that he had been stalking the prey on all fours. The rabbit spooked. Arlen cursed silently and began to stand up but it felt so right staying just the way he was. He remained a quadruped.

A strange looking man entered the police station. He was dressed as a hunter, not unusual during hunting season, but this one carried some unusual equipment including a military gas mask. He patiently waited at the counter until he was noticed.

"Can I help you?" asked the desk sergeant.

The man looked at the sergeant with unusually piercing eyes and said, "I would like to talk to the officer in charge of the Phillips murder case. I have some information."

... "Oh no." muttered the hunter as he picked up another piece of skin from the floor of Arlen's trailer.

"What is it?" asked the detective.

"You say this one's named Arlen?"

"Yes, why is that important?"

The hunter brought his full attention to the detective standing in front of him. Those piercing eyes made the detective strangely uncomfortable. In a low, even tone he told the other man, "Her name is Arleniochevasa-an. She can assume the form of someone or something innocuous and sometimes remains that way for centuries. Whenever she resumes her natural form people die, sometimes thousands of them."

"I thought that you were going to help us catch a murderer, not rattle on about fairy tales." said the detective as he crossed his arms and gave the hunter a disappointed look.

"I am helping you detective." countered the hunter, "It's up to you to decide that I'm telling you the truth. If we can't find and destroy her before her transformation is complete; you and your people will have no choice but to evacuate the area or die. Arleniochevasa-an always claims a vast territory, often several thousand square miles. Humans and dragons cannot coexist in the same space. You are direct competitors for resources."

"Dragons?" exclaimed the detective. "Now I know you're nuts!"

Unfazed, the hunter brought out a paperback book from his pack and handed it to the detective. "This is a reprint of an ancient text written by the first hunters." explained the man. "I would advise you to read it carefully. I also advise that you procure the heaviest rifles that you can and pick up some of these." The hunter then brandished his gas mask. "Eventually large-caliber rifles will become ineffective or any man-made weapon for that matter, so you must act quickly."

"Why would I need a gas mask?" queried the detective.

"Any human that catches even the slightest whiff of her scent becomes infatuated with her, unable to harm her. If you are lucky she will only tear out your throat and maybe eat you if she is hungry."

"And if I'm unlucky?" the detective asked, curious to see how deep this man's madness went.

"She will make you her slave. You will remain that way for the rest of your life. You would gladly kill your own family to please her." answered the hunter in earnest. "I know what you are thinking right now, so I will leave you to your thoughts. I will find you when you need me, and you will need me. More will die if they haven't already." At that the hunter walked out the door and on down the street.

The detective looked at the book in his hand and muttered, "Crazy bastard." as he closed the door to the trailer and climbed into his car.

Arlen awoke from his nap. The sheep that he had killed earlier satisfied his hunger and he was able to rest for quite some time. He stretched and then reached for the itchy knobs on his back, but found that his arms, his forelegs, no longer had the range of motion to allow for that. He wanted to see what was happening back there and was surprised to find that he could now turn his head around and take a look. His neck had lengthened while he slept. The knobs on his back looked just like that, knobs. By now he had decided to find a mirror or some still water so he could see what he had become. That would be his first task of the day.

He heard a rustling in the brush as something approached him. The wind brought its scent to him. It was human, but how did he know this? A man broke through the brush with a rifle in his hands. They stared at each other for a moment; then the man raised his rifle. Arlen braced himself for the bullet that was sure to come when the wind shifted to blow from behind him. The man lowered his rifle and stared at Arlen, dumbfounded. Even more surprisingly the man set the rifle down and began to approach him. The bulge in his pants, and the scent emanating from him as the wind shifted again, made it perfectly clear what his intentions were.

Arlen welcomed the man's approach. Despite the warnings of Sep, Arlen had a sexual itch that he could no longer scratch. Without saying a word the man dropped his shoes and pants and approached even closer. Arlen groaned with anticipation as he turned and raised his tail, inviting the man to enter him. The man entered Arlen with his substantial cock. Arlen found it pleasing, but nothing like the pleasure that Sep could provide. At least it could scratch the itch for a while. They fucked for hours as the man came several times within Arlen's body. They didn't stop until the man had passed out from sheer exhaustion. Arlen never reached orgasm. He gave the unconscious man a gentle kiss on the cheek and began his journey to his favorite lake near the edge of the wilderness, so he could take a look at his new body.

The man awoke and felt saddened beyond reason that his lover had abandoned him. Despite this he could never betray her. He reluctantly went home, kissed his wife dispassionately and sat down for dinner. Sometime after dark the man heard a knock at the door. The last thing he saw as he opened the door was a set of jaws closing on him. His wife turned at the sound just in time to see her husband fall backward onto the living room carpet. His head, shoulder and left arm were gone. She never saw what had done this.

The detective was just wrapping up his part of the investigation and was leaving the house. They had searched the area, but could not find the rest of the body. As he approached his car he saw that the hunter was waiting there for him.

"You will never find the rest of the body," said the hunter, "It has been eaten. I could use a ride into town, if you would like to talk."

For a moment the detective could only stare, and then he replied, "Sure, climb in." They both got into the car and headed into town.

... "I'm guessing that the man's penis was found worn raw and that his testicles were bruised." That question from the hunter sounded more like a statement.

"I don't know," answered the detective, "the coroner hadn't got that far yet."

"If so she had begun creating a consort and then, most likely, a jealous consort found him. This means that she is not alone. If you will allow me to see the body, I can give you an idea of how large a dragon we are dealing with."

"I'll let you take a look as soon as it arrives in the morgue." replied the detective. "I read the book that you gave me. If the story wasn't so fantastical it would scare the shit out of me. Still I can't help but believe at least part of what you've told me. The book says that dragons are creatures of magic and that the weapons of mortal men are ineffective against adults."

"Yes, they are only vulnerable to such attacks in their altered forms or during transformation."

"How have they been defeated in the past?"

The hunter allowed himself a tight-lipped smile and answered, "So you have not read the entire book yet. As creatures of magic, dragons arrive when the flow of energy has again grown strong enough to support them. Humans are adaptable. A few generations after the flow has strengthened, those you know as wizards and witches are born. They can wield the power to destroy or drive off the dragons once more, if they choose to."

"If they choose to?"

"Those people are also creatures of magic and may choose to ally themselves with the dragons. Who would not like to have one so powerful on his side? Also just as the dragons follow the flow of magic, the magic often leaves when the dragons are driven away. A man or woman who has grown accustomed to such power is often reluctant to give it up, if they understand the connection."

"This Arleniochevasa-an, the book says that she is the mother of all. What does that mean exactly?" asked the detective.

"She is the only one that can create new full-blooded dragons, and she will protect her young with all of the powers available to her. Any other female can only conceive mutts, mules. Those can only breed for another generation or two at the most and each successive generation becomes less intelligent and more aggressive. These are the ones that must be hunted, must be controlled. Arleniochevasa-an, her consorts and her young are the only ones that can talk and be reasoned with."

"You said powers, like fire?"

"Yes," answered the hunter, "but the fire is actually channeled raw, focused magic. Nothing save refined, controlled magic can withstand it. Here, I want you to have this." The hunter presented the detective with a sheathed dagger. The detective was so curious that he pulled over so he could better look at it. He pulled it from his sheath and found the blade to be as intricately carved as the handle and hilt. The knife was completely free of any flaws or damage that he could see and the edges were beyond razor sharp.

"So this is magic?"

The hunter nodded. "Yes, some of the most powerful still in existence." he confirmed. "It shields the wielder from magical attack, including dragon fire. It will also pierce anything, but understand that a blade this short may not reach the vital organs of a dragon and will not help you much if one chooses to step on or bite you."

"Why are you giving me this?" queried the detective as he sheathed the dagger and placed it on the seat. He then pulled the car back on the road and continued toward town.

"Because I am tired and need a replacement. I am hoping that you will take over for me. If you accept, you will lose your name, your friends, your family. Though you can be killed, you will heal very quickly, never get sick and you will not age. You will also become one of the most powerful warriors among men. In any case, the dagger is yours."