Alcy Leyva [Leyva - And Then There Were Dragons

CHAPTER 1

Back when we were kids, when I was twelve and Petty was eight or nine, we would play this game. Wed steal an old, empty box from the corner bodegaone that smelled like overripe bananas and sported brown stains on the sides from whatever had leaked (or died) in thereand wed go sledding down the stairs in our building.

I know. Sit in awe of our genius.

On one specific attempt in our makeshift box-sledone in which I guess I should have zigged rather than zaggedI ended up flying right out of the damn thing and down an entire flight of stairs. After sticking the landing (with my face), I sat up to find that out of five of the fingers on my right hand, one was pointing directly back at my face.

Petty instantly lost her shit. She threw both of her little hands in the air and, with her mouth wailing like a fire truck, started running around in circles like the world was on fire. I opted instead to merely snap the sucker back into place and wrap it in duct tape until my mom got home.

This is all to say Ive never been the get-the-shit-scared-out-of-you-so-bad-you-scream-your-head off type. Ive also never been the dead type, so you can imagine all of this was uncharted territory for me.

You cant blame me for screaming. One second, Im bleeding out on the steps of Saint Patricks Cathedral on Fifth Avenue in Manhattan. The next, Im waking up in a bed that isnt mine, in a strange room Ive never seen before. Oh, and the cherry on top of this perfectly-served dung sundae? Ive found myself laying a few feet from none other than Gaffrey-fucking-Palls, the man solely responsible for uprooting my sad little existence and dumping it into a gutter.

So, yeah, the situation begged for a hefty dose of delirious panic. And boy, did I deliver.

I screamed my fucking head off.

When I was through, Palls grimaced and smacked his lips. Nice to see you, too, Grey.

Wasting no time, I pushed the covers aside and swung my feet over just enough to make sure I didnt touch that scum-sucker in the slightest. It quickly dawned on me that my surroundings were not the only things out of the ordinary.

I was wearing a dress.

I knowa dress !

It wasnt just any dress, either. It was a black dress with lace netting around the neck and arms. The bottom was layered with grey and black material, which billowed outward like smoke around my bare feet. I looked like I had been invited to a prom for the recently deceasedor at least the Halloween costume version of said event.

Pushing through my current coma-induced fashion sense, I spotted a chair on the other side of the room, parked by what appeared to be a writing desk topped with a green ornate lamp. I marked this as my target and pushed away from the bed, but the moment my feet hit the carpet, my world toppled over. I saw the ceiling, the velvet-like wallpaper and empty picture frames hanging on the wall, and then nothing but plush carpet as I flopped right over onto the floor like a fat, waterlogged sponge.

Palls sighed as he watched me slump onto the ground. Yeah. Might need to take it easy for a bit there, Grey. You still dont have your

I slung him a tight shhh to cease and desist his bullshit. My arms and legs felt like wet noodles, but giving up was not an option and so I began inching myself across the ground, all chin and stomach and shoulders, like a grub.

Watching me struggle, Palls decided to start talking.

I realize this is probably a crap the bed moment for you. He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand like he was trying to wipe away that particularly bothersome mental image and continued. Im going to try to make this all clear and simple, so lets start from the obvious and make our way down. By now, youve probably figured out where we are. This is Hell and youre stuck down here for all of the crazy stunts you pulled back in your lifethe Shades, the quasi-end of the world, etcetera. Thats the bad news.

Palls paused. My time as a worm had come to an end. There was energy bubbling up; my limbs were waking, coming to life. Palls watched as I propped myself on my elbows and twerked my ass forward until the momentum forced me up and into the chair. I was out of breath and sweat was running in streams down my back. When I was done wriggling to a more or less upright position, he continued.

Now for the really bad news. Your soul, like mine, is bound to this place. Thats why youre feeling sluggish right now. Heard them call it soul entropy and its pretty common for folks who end up here. See, you dont have a body, per se. Its more like your souls been hotwired to feel extreme emotions, pain and fear especially. Youll learn to get used to it, but thats why youre having such a hard time using your legs. You probably cant move your mouth just yet either, which is good for me because I heard you typically have a problem keeping it shut. Youre used to using your muscles to feel and get around, but thats mortality for youthats real life. Nothings real down here. Well, other than the endless suffering. Oh, and the awful sulfur smell, but thats either the lake of fire or the Olive Garden they opened one floor up. Cant really be sure one way or the next. I guess making our souls run on pain makes it easier for everlasting torture and whatnot. Gives them something to screw around with.

Palls stopped again as I finally managed to work my way onto my feet. Each of my knees took turns wobbling as I forced myself into a standing position using the backrest of the desk chair. It felt like life was welling up inside of me again, though I was pretty sure my surroundings would beg to differ. Slowly, and with every ounce of strength I had, I started pushing the chair toward Palls.

When I was close enough to be satisfied, I plopped myself right down onto the chairs cushion and stared at him for a long minute. Gaffrey Palls: the man who had tried to murder me. The man who had walked into my apartment full of demonic crows I would unknowingly release out into the world.

The man who had started this whole shit show.

My body (or whatever version of it this was) seemed to be waking up slowly, but there was a dull hollowness to it all. I could grab the round of my knee and lick my lips, but it felt like senses running on a separate track from my skinlike I was divorced from everything my body was trying to tell me and experiencing it all from memory. Somehow, sitting there, I felt as if I were planted in that chair and completely outside of my body at exactly the same time.