"You're not real," he said.

But the words were hollow, sounding more like echoes in the darkness than a voice. The menacing laughter that responded to his claim felt infinitely more real than his own voice.

He was curled in a ball, his tail and wings wrapped tight around him, his muzzle touching his chest. All around him was darkness, a void of night stretching away as far as he could see. He was alone. Except that he wasn't.

"And who are you to be deciding who is real?" the voice hissed. It was cold, oily, and yet somehow familiar.

He peeked his head out from the protection of his wings, but saw nothing. He couldn't hear anything thing now that the voice had stopped. Nor could he smell anything. He swallowed, trying to force down the lump of fear rising in his throat. Nothing. No sound, no scent, no feeling of temperature, nothing in all directions. Nothing except the return of the mocking laughter.

"You claim to decide what is real? You? A hybrid of a wolf and a creature that doesn't exist? How real are you?"

He looked down at himself: at the golden fur, the white scales and wing membranes of his naked body. A wolfdragon, he called himself. It didn't occur to him to question how he could clearly see himself in the darkness— he just accepted it. He brought his head up again, trying to find the source of the voice.

"You're not real," he tried again. "This place isn't real."

"Oh, I'm very real. And nothing you tell yourself will change that."

Finally, he caught a glimpse of something in the darkness. At first it was nothing more than two little pinpricks of red that he guessed to be eyes, but as he stared, a form came into focus.

He almost wished it hadn't.

The... thing didn't have a color, yet it stood out against the darkness— it seemed almost to be made of the absence of light. Its form was massive, but indistinct as if it was constantly changing or stretched away into the void. The glow of the eyes showed the only distinct feature: a muzzle that was vaguely lupine. That muzzle was split in a wicked grin that showed rows and rows of fangs. That muzzle seemed to thrust itself at the wolfdragon, who pushed himself away from it before settling into a seated position. He cradled his knees against his chest and shielded himself with his wings as he rocked back and forth.

"You're not real," he repeated his mantra. "You're not real. None of this is real."

The thing laughed at him again, and his chanting broke down. Tears replaced the words. He felt rather than heard the thing approach him. He pulled his wings tighter, silently praying to himself that the thing wouldn't come closer. It didn't, but that was no comfort.

"Look at you," the creature mocked. "No wonder you're not a dragon. Fat as you are, you're not powerful enough to be one. And you're too big to be a wolf."

He looked through the tears at his prominent belly, the one he tried so hard to get rid of but could never quite manage. He hated it, even though his mate said it was nice to snuggle against.

"He settled for you," the thing said, as if it could read his mind. "You're not his true love, you were just convenient."

"No. He loves me," the wolfdragon whimpered.

"Does he?" Another laugh. "He's bi. He could pass for normal if he wanted. He'd be happy with a female. Can you say the same, faggot? I think not."

"Lemme alone," he sobbed. "Go away."

"Go away? Ha! Where would I go? Where would I want to go? I have everything I want right here."

He hugged himself, still crying without a sound. He tried to rationalize what was happening. But it didn't make sense. How could anyone know this much about him? He was quiet and shy, no one should know this much about his private fears. He tried to deny the reality of what was happening yet again, but the words died before even leaving his muzzle. Somehow, someway, this was real.

"Yes. You're beginning to understand."

"No," he whispered. “I'm not."

He leapt to his paws and took off running away from the creature. He didn't know where he could run to in the perpetual blackness, but he needed to get away. He dashed in total silence: no air rushing past his ears, blood rushing, and no panting—only silence. He didn't know how far he ran in the unchanging landscape, but it wasn't far enough: he saw the glow of the thing's red eyes in front of him.

He slid to a halt and stared in horror. The shadow creature seemed even bigger than when he'd first encountered it, towering above him like colossus. He saw now that it was bipedal, but couldn't make out any other details in the murk. He backed away as the creature laughed and advanced on him.

He ducked down and launched himself into the air, spreading his wings and taking flight. He couldn't tell where he was going— in the gloom it was impossible to tell directions. He just kept his wings pumping as he looked back to see if he'd gotten away from the creature. He sighed in relief as it was gone. That sense of calm lasted until he turned back to find the thing directly in front of him. His wing beats faltered, and for the briefest of seconds he was falling.

He encountered some sort of ground and collapsed on to his claws and knees. He looked up to see the thing descending on him, and for the first time saw the blacker outline of wings. A sense of despair began to fill him as the creature settled in front of him. Looking at his own claws, the wolfdragon saw the color seeping from them leaving his fur a pale gray. As he watched the pigment leech from his fur, he understood it had begun at his wrist—and the scar that remained there. The creature cackled.

"You can't get away from me little fool. There's nowhere you can go that I can't follow."

Tears stung his eyes, dripping to the darkness under him. Any that splashed against his fur took the gold from each strand. The fear rose faster, and he slumped before a thought occurred to him.

"I am the Beast!" he half screamed, half sang. "I am the hunter and the hunted at once!"

"You're right about that last bit," the thing rumbled above. "But you're no beast.

"I am the beast here."

"I just need you gone..." he stammered, desperately trying to finish the chorus.

"You still don't get it? 'Need you gone?' I will never leave."

The wolfdragon looked up at the shadowy creature. The mercurial figure had grown to massive size, towering over him with its wings stretching to oblivion. The glowing eyes seemed brighter, but somehow illuminated nothing beyond the fangs in its jaws. Something dripped from those fangs, blood or saliva he couldn't tell. He just stared at his tormentor, the tears flowing as waterfalls down his cheeks.

"Your stupid songs will not help you. Lies you tell yourself won't protect you. I know the truth about you. You're weak, frightened, and ignorant. You try to make friends, but you don't know how. Those around you are just acquaintances, bound by common interests. They'll leave when they see the real you."

He punched the darkness under him. Pain shot up his arm, the only indication that his paw had connected with anything solid. There had to be something he could do. He'd run through hundreds of situations similar to this in his mind, written dozens of escapes, dozens of heroes triumphing.

"Lies."

"No."

"Fiction. And not even good ones at that. You're not talented. You're just there to fill out the word count. In person? They don't want to hurt your precious little feelings. All of them are better than you."

"They... they like them... Why would they waste time on them if they didn't?"

"Obligation."

"No."

"Tell yourself that. It won't make it true. You're nothing compared to them. You'll never be anything. Just give up. Give in."

As the echoes of the booming voice faded, he brought his paws up to his eyes. The color was completely gone from them, the fur turned sickly gray all the way up to his elbows and climbing. All feeling was gone from them: he wiggled his fingers and although he watched them move, there was no sensation that they had. He realized he should have been afraid, but all he felt was a hollow detachment. What did it matter? The shadow thing was right. He was nothing. Here he was, all alone at the mercy of this... thing. Where were his friends? Where was his lover? His family? Why had they left him to face this alone?

He fell to his stomach and rolled onto his back. It took him a long time to register that his wings were as numb as his paws. He looked down past his fat gut and saw that the fur on his legs had also been sapped of color. The gray was beginning to envelop his groin. He felt a moment of regret at that, but it faded quickly. What did it matter anyway? It was just as useless as the rest of him. Useless, afraid, stupid, alone. Those were all he was, and anything else was a lie to make himself feel better. He curled into a ball again. It would be so easy to just give in.

Thump.

He blinked. What was that? He strained his ears, trying desperately to place what he'd just heard. Heard. With a rush, it dawned it was the first sound he'd heard since he'd found himself in this place. Thump. He tried to place the noise, clinging to it like a drowning sailor to a board. Thump. Thump. The sound grew louder as he focused, becoming less random and settling into a rhythm. A familiar rhythm.

Lub, dub. Lub dub.

He looked down again, realizing that he could feel the rhythm. It was coming from his own chest. He pulled his arms away and stared. It was his heart. His heart was beating. He could almost see it pushing his scales out with each beat. The foolishness of that thought floated up in his mind, but he ignored it as he listened to his heart. After a long time he became aware that his chest seemed to be glowing. Not much compared to the void around him, but a little candle flame that seemed to grow a tiny bit brighter with each thump in his chest. He sighed, and realized that he could hear himself breathing. He reached a paw up and placed it against his chest. And he felt his scales pressing against it.

As he watched, the color began to return— the gold seeping back into his fur as the light passed through it. The wolfdragon stared. Above him the shadow hissed.

"More lies! That changes nothing! You are still exactly what you are!"

He considered the words as he watched the glow spread. It was true, but what did it mean? He pondered that as the shadow continued railing above him. It shouted, but he wasn't listening anymore. His heartbeat drowned out the words and he watched the glow bring the color back to his body. Then, with a flash of insight, he understood.

"I'm alive."

He rolled over onto his paws and knees. If he was alive, he could fight. The glow had transferred its center from his chest to his right paw. He pushed himself upright and balled his paw into a fist. The glow intensified and spread.

It wasn't enough to illuminate far into the void, but it went far enough. He stood there, naked but no longer afraid. His scales gleamed in the light and his fur had returned to its full golden glory. His wings stretched proudly behind him. The light spread. Not far, but far enough.

The shadow hissed and brought an arm up to cover its eyes. As the light touched it, the creature came into focus. No longer was it a massive thing that stretched to forever: it contracted until it was the same size he was. It dropped its arm and glared at him: it was a wolfdragon. A shadow wolfdragon, but a wolfdragon none the less. More in shape than he was, more well-endowed, but nothing but a shadow of him.

They locked eyes for a long time before the shadow sneered.

"This changes nothing. I will always be here. You will never overcome me."

"Perhaps," he said as he brought his paw up. The light grew stronger in his grasp, shrinking the shadow even further.

"But I will never stop trying."