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Voices from Beacker1160's Scroll
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Beacker1160 PM
A collection of my dragcave short stories, fanfictions, and one-shots. These stories are typically told in the eyes of one of my dragons, and aimed to give an insight into the daily lives of the dragons in my scroll. Rated T just to be safe.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Chapters: 8 - Words: 13,893 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 01-05-13 - Published: 10-02-12 - id: 8575858
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Wicked Inside - Wicked Inside's Plea


Wicked Inside, a frozen hatchling, is pleading for help and release from an evil spirit that possesses him and forces him to commit violent acts at random.


Written 9/30/12.


My name is Wicked Inside. I am a dorsal hatchling.

I am locked in a cave, isolated from the others, kept in the dark.

I think they have a good reason to keep me away from everyone else.

I am possessed. By something. I don't know what exactly. But I know that it is malevolent. That it is evil.

When I was first laid as an egg, my father was a marrow dragon. Against the wishes of my purple dorsal mother, he performed some sort of evil ritual on me. Some sort of spirit came to my body and resided in me, sharing the egg. It whispered to me. It sometimes made me do things I didn't want to do. Sometimes it made me kick the eggshell from inside, nearly shattering it and killing me.

But somehow, my marrow father grew dissatisfied. The spirit wasn't doing what he wanted it to do. It was becoming independent. So one day, he dumped me into the abandoned pile. I was one egg upon hundreds. I remembered hearing my father leave, hearing him mumbling in disgust. But the spirit didn't mind. And although I knew it was evil and it kept taking over my body, it at least provided me some company. We sometimes even talked together, though not much.

Nobody wanted me. I was a common purple dorsal. I sat there for a day, then two...then three...but at last, I felt my eggshell being lifted into the air. The spirit, unlike I, could see. It told me about the person who grabbed me. The spirit did not like the person. I did not like him either.

The person took my egg to a remote mountain. The spirit said there was a small house surrounded by forests. I did not know if that was true or not. I couldn't see. But I trusted the spirit, no matter how much I hated it.

I was kept in the basement of the house for a day, according to the spirit. Sometimes the spirit would float away from my body to explore the house. I enjoyed those hours of solace, where I didn't have the evil spirit inside of me, making me do things I did not want to do. But the spirit always came back. It told me about the house and the person. I did not like the person at all.

Then one night, as I was slumbering in my egg, I felt myself being lifted. The spirit awoke, too, and floated away to see what was going on. I was scared. I could tell I was being taken outside, because the cool nighttime air flowed across my eggshell. I was being placed on the ground. The spirit came back. It seemed fearful and angry. It told me my egg was threatened.

It told me my owner wanted to have his vampire dragon bite me, to see if I would become one.

Slowly, I heard another dragon approaching. I could hear it coming closer, and it sounded hungry. I was scared. But there was nothing I could do. I couldn't move away.

The spirit saved me.

Right before the vampire dragon sank its fangs into my eggshell, the spirit left me and did something to the dragon. It lashed out, choking the vampire dragon, killing it. I felt the sickly blood that the vampire dragon had sucked out of its latest victim splash across my eggshell.

But it was over. The spirit had killed the vampire dragon. It had saved me from death.

The human was angry beyond belief. He took a hammer and tried to smash my eggshell. But again the spirit saved me. It made him hit himself with the hammer repeatedly. Then, after he had knocked himself out, the spirit levitated me, and we flew above the mountains. For days we traveled across the land, back to where we came from.

We landed in the abandoned pile. I had a mere two days left to live.

Then a purple dragon picked me up several hours later. The spirit seemed to like the purple dragon better, though it still had its old, malevolent, evil feeling. At first I thought the spirit was going to kill the purple dragon. But it seemed to approve of him, and let him carry me to his clan's territory.

I was sent to the white dragons. The clan was very large. The spirit flew away and returned half an hour later. He told me that the clan had over two hundred dragons. That was a lot compared to the lone human or my marrow and dorsal parents, living in the wild.

I did not like the white dragon who examined me. The spirit didn't like it either. I think the white dragon sensed something was wrong. He might have detected the spirit. But he merely waved me off and sent me to the female mother dragons to incubate me.

I hatched five hours later.

The cool, mountain air felt good against my scales, coated with my egg liquid. The spirit was inside me again. I felt strange outside of my eggshell. The mother dragon nursed me, along with its own babies, who peeked curiously at me. The spirit did not like those babies, or the mother. It did not like anyone at all.

As I grew, the spirit sometimes made me do things. The other dragons became scared of me. The spirit made me stare at them for hours. I did not want to stare at them. I wanted to go play with the other hatchlings. But the spirit forced me to. It was boring. I did not like the looks the other dragons gave me. Like I was violating their privacy. Like I was creepy.

Then the things started happening.

One night, the spirit woke me. I was half asleep. The spirit controlled my body, guiding it out of the nursery, forcing me down the moonlit camp towards the forest. I felt strangely alert, and every one of my muscles felt rested and anxious to attack something. The spirit did strange things to me. It made me crouch stealthily. I could see a guardian dragon in the distance, keeping watch on the camp's entrance. The spirit made me sneak up on it. I felt nothing but the desire to sink my fangs into the guardian dragon's body, to rip him apart, to cause as much injury as possible to him. Deep down, I didn't want to do it. But the spirit filled me with hatred. It controlled me. It possessed me.

I attacked the dragon. The spirit made me bite him over and over. The dragon could not see me. It wildly looked around, trying to find me. But my dorsal scales were mostly dark. My black and purple scales blended perfectly with the night. I tasted blood. I was scared. But the spirit made me keep going.

Then the guardian dragon saw my ruby-red eyes. He didn't know it was me. But the spirit knew I had been discovered. It made me run. I half sprinted, half jumped back to the nursery. I was crying. I didn't want to do that. But the spirit made me.

For weeks, the terror continued. Almost every night, I would attack another dragon. I didn't want to do it. But the spirit made me. I would bite my victims over and over, the spirit enjoying the violence, while I cried. Then I would flee. For weeks I did that.

Then one day the white dragon that the spirit hated so much tried to examine me. They knew something was wrong. They knew I disappeared at night, not of my own will, but of the spirit. It forced me. I tried calling for help as the spirit dragged me off to attack another dragon, but it would angrily force me to shut my mouth. I bit my victims. I fled. I cried as the spirit made me stealthily sneak back to the nursery and pretend to be asleep.

But as the white dragon peered into my eyes, I saw the spark of recognition. He knew I was possessed. But the spirit knew that he found my secret. The spirit made me attack him. I sank my fangs into his throat. The white dragon screamed in horror. The nearby dragons arrived. They saw my fangs coated in the white dragon's blood.

They saw me, standing over the white dragon, with the savage look in my eyes. The savage look I had when the spirit possessed me.

The spirit cackled evilly inside me while I cried. I cried as the dragons leapt onto me. I cried as they took me prisoner. I cried as they locked me inside a cave. They said I was dangerous. That I was evil. That I was a demon.

But I am not. It is the spirit. The spirit made me do it. Not me. I tried to refuse the spirit. But it was too powerful. Night after night, it forced me to attack my victims. To sneak up on them. To sink my fangs into them. To flee. To pretend to sleep, like nothing happened.

It's been a few months since they locked me inside the cave. They shove food through a narrow slit. They shove water through there, too. They hate me. I know they have a reason to hate me. They should hate me. It was right for them to lock me up, so the spirit could not use me to hurt anyone else.

But I still feel sad. I feel like it is my fault that I attacked those dragons. But I know it is the spirit that does that. I didn't want to. I wanted to be a normal hatchling, playing with the others, having fun. But the spirit made me do evil things.

The spirit sometimes flies through the slit and leaves me in peace for a few hours. The spirit is bored, so it goes to explore the camp while I lay on the damp, icy cave floor, suffering and crying. The spirit wants me to attack the other dragons. But I don't want to do that anymore.

Sometimes I am my normal self. Other times I am possessed. Sometimes the spirit possesses me so completely that I can't remember what I was doing when the spirit took over. It made me do things I didn't want to do. It made me attack the other dragons. It made me...a demon.

I need help. I need someone to come and take this evil spirit out of me. I can't bear it anymore. Soon, I am going to die. The spirit will consume me. It will take all of my life energy. Already I am growing weak in this cave, in this dark prison where the only light comes from that slit. That slit to heaven. To reality. To normal life.

All that lies between me and being any normal hatchling is the spirit. The evil, malevolent, horrible spirit. The spirit that made me attack others. The spirit that made me try to kill that white dragon.

Please, someone, come save me! I think I will go insane soon. The spirit is taking over my body. It is getting harder and harder for me to fight it. I don't want to be this way. I don't want to become a demon. But I am growing weak, and the spirit is growing stronger and stronger.

I am...wicked inside.

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