Code Name: Draconis [Ace Draconis - ON HOLD; see my updated profile for info!]

Chapter 17: The Jungle's Secret (Part 2)

              I awoke to the worst headache I'd had in years.  From all the head injuries I received, it was a miracle I wasn't in a coma.  Dragon DNA has its perks I guess.  I blinked, trying to take in my bearings.  I was lying on a cot, in some kind of house made of logs.  A cabin or something.  I looked to my left, to see a large table with some chairs around it.  Again, made of wood.  There was a half-eaten salad there and a second place set with an untouched one.  It was strange to see a sink and metallic fridge tucked in the corner of the log house.  Past that room the atmosphere changed and there was a large tv, and black leather couch.  I frowned, seeing a door past that. 

              Sitting up, I began to think of some plan of escape...until my headache got substantially worse.  "Ugh...bad idea..." I said, laying back down.  I turned my head again to look at the salads, and the odd fridge.  My stomach rumbled involuntarily.  I hate my metabolism some days.

              I looked down at my arms, assessing the damage of the fall.  It didn't look too bad, minus some scrapes and bruises.  I couldn't feel anything except my shoulder hurting where my scraped wing was.  Luckily, it wasn't as bad as when my wing got messed up last time.  And it was the opposite wing, which was good. 

              My gaze traveled to my wrist where I saw... a chain?  I gave my arm an experimental tug, testing the weight of it.  Whoever made this thing, didn't fool around.  I tugged again, a little harder, chain jingling.  No luck.  Whatever, I'd break away later.  Maybe fire would work to heat up the metal... but I couldn't try that here.  The house was made of wood, save the weird electronics in it.  Plus, no one seemed to be around and I didn't feel like being trapped in a burning house right now.

              My stomach rumbled again, and I looked around for my backpack.  A few more minutes of searching revealed it was across the room, by the door of the cabin.  I groaned.  I couldn't even radio for help, or even grab one of my packages of peanuts.

              "Quit scowling."

              I looked up as the dragon-man from earlier walked down the hallway wearing the same tattered jeans and a black T-shirt, toweling off his hair.  He must have somehow had a shower down there too.  Which would explain how he seemed to have shaved earlier.  I bared my fangs at him... and he walked right past me to the fridge.

              I watched with longing as he pulled out some bread, mayonnaise, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and some sandwich meat and started making himself a sandwich. 

              My stomach growled again.  Traitor.

He looked up. "You want one?"

              I thought about it a moment.  If he wanted me dead, he'd have killed me already...right? Plus he was making himself one... surely he wouldn’t poison his own food, right?

              There were a lot of questions there I didn't like leaving unanswered, but I nodded, giving into my hunger.

He smirked.

              I glared at him, instantly regretting my decision.

"I bet you're wondering why I didn't just kill you."

              Silence.

"Well?"

              "I don't care."

"You don't?" he looked up again, as if he had some secret that he couldn't wait to share.

              "I don't." I looked away, ending the topic.