We Are Bulletproof

h...e...l....lo...

...h...el....l........o

K......i.........n......

FOR DRAGON

The small bit of card was folded over so that it could stand propped up on the table, with messy lettering and a crude drawing of a dragon scrawled on the bottom. Dragon picked it up curiously and turned it over, inspecting the back and the underside. Blank. He frowned and looked at the part with writing again, squinting hard at the drawing. Looked like a dragon... or maybe a worm.

It was probably meant for him.

Behind the card was a small glass with a fizzy clear liquid inside. Dragon eyed it suspiciously. Was that for him too? He didn't touch it but he did take a good, long, hard look at it. Hmm. The way that tiny bubbles floated and popped to the surface was amusing; he'd never seen anything like it before. Maybe it's another potion. Dragon set the card down and gingerly touched a fingertip to the rim of the glass, but nothing happened. He breathed out softly.

It was probably another health potion, he thought--this was the table that Kinley and Tim usually set things out on for him, when they weren't at the house. Tim's parents had returned after the fog lifted, and when Dragon was well enough to speak, he told them the whole story. They were sympathetic, though worried--not entirely for Dragon's health, but he thought also for their family's safety. Dragon was... well, an intruder in their world. They promised to investigate, and in the meantime, Dragon appropriated the downstairs couch as his temporary place of stay.

After another few pokes at the glass, he curled a hand around it--the part with the liquid felt cool--and brought it back to the couch. If it was a potion (and by all appearances, it seemed to be) then he had to down it. Tim and his parents emphasized that: he needed to be obedient and take his medicine. Dragon sniffed at the glass; it smelled rather sweet, in a pleasant way. Recalling the other pleasant-tasting potions, he geared up to drink it and raised it to his lips.

"Heehee!"

Dragon paused. Was that a giggle? He looked around, but the house appeared empty. The young humans were upstairs; Tim had taken Kinley somewhere before Dragon woke up. Tim's parents were gone too. Dragon craned his neck to look briefly up the stairs, but he saw no one and nothing--not even a shadow. Maybe he imagined it.

Again, he brought the potion to his lips. There wasn't that much of it in the glass, so he decided to down it all in one go. Tipping his head back, he opened his mouth and swallowed.

"OW!"

A startled shout burst from him as the bubbles shot immediately up his nose, scaring him. He dropped the glass and leapt off the couch, pawing at his face as if he could get the bubbles to come out that way. Coughing, staggering around, he uttered squeaks of distress as the liquid burned his nasal passages and also down his throat.

"HEEHEE!!!" Kero tumbled out from behind a closet door, laughing fit to burst. He had a phone in his hand and was waving it around, even as Dragon waved his hands around in a mute plea for help.

Dragon roared in pain as a reaper's claws raked through his side, through the tough protective hide that lined his inky body. He batted it away with a vicious flick of his tail and climbed into the air to get away from the throng that had gathered. They were far away now, from where Kinley was last. He had taken them toward the edge of town--the opposite end of town from where the master lay waiting, for the reapers to report back to him with their collected souls.

He chanced a look at the injury and saw trails of black, thick blood streaming from the cuts. Dragon winced but there was no time to focus on that. Not when Kinley was in danger! Tim would be all right, he was sure; the reapers didn't want Tim's soul. They wanted human souls and Kinley was a human. He had to hurry back to save him, before something happened to him!

Severing the connection between them--he couldn't divert any more energy or attention--Dragon hastened back towards the center of town. DImly he felt the master's calling, his imperious voice resonating in Dragon's mind. The master was displeased and it showed. Why else would he send a group of reapers to collect Dragon? But Dragon fought him. He fought the master's attempts to impose his will on him because a stronger emotion gave him strength now.

"Kiney!" It came out in his dragon's roar as he streaked through the air, heedless of who--or what--saw him. Dragon didn't know where Kinley was but he could sense other reapers, and he followed that faint beacon to a squat, square building. There was one inside. He hoped it was the right one! Dragon quickly reverted back into his ungainly human form and stumbled inside--naked, just like the first time Kinley found him.

"KINEY!"

The realm between hell and Earth--a temporary resting place for those that the Master summoned forth--was a gray, vast, empty space. All that Dragon could see was emptiness and nothingness. Others like him dotted the landscape, all waiting and biding their time until they were called upon to perform their respective duties.

A portal stood like a silent sentinel in the distance. It was black now, and inactive, although occasionally Dragon caught glimmers of activity within its gates closer to the full moon. Once or twice he attempted to cross the barrier into the living world but he never strayed too far. The Master would be displeased, surely, if he emerged too soon.

It wasn't yet time for Dragon to serve out his purpose.

That didn't mean that he wasn't curious, though. He had a channel into the world through the tarot card that part of his soul had been fused with, and through it he saw interesting things. There was also a human, the one who possessed his card. Dragon's name came from the human and he was maybe a little over-proud of that fact. Others had no names; they simply existed to serve.

But Dragon was special.

He didn't know how many others of his kind there were, but he imagined that even if they existed, they wouldn't be nearly as special as he was. Names were important things. There was power in a name, in having one and knowing one. The human's name, he knew, was Kinley. And Kinley called him Dragon. This formed a bond between them and through that bond, Dragon was able to aid his human and to communicate with him through the humans' language, as long as there was a convenient scrap of paper about for him to draw on.

Dragon liked Kinley. He knew he liked him because Kinley expressed the sentiment first, and Dragon agreed; therefore, it was mutual. Kinley thought he was beautiful. Dragon didn't know what that word meant but he felt the spike of admiration through their connection and it resonated positively with him.

One day, he thought, he might brave the portal just so that he could see Kinley in person. Not in his original form, of course; he wasn't that foolish. The humans would panic and the Master would banish him back to hell. That would never do. Dragon had a job to do, and the thought of not seeing Kinley again made him feel...

Well, he didn't know the word for it, but it wasn't a positive feeling like 'beautiful.'

Maybe the opposite, whatever that word was.