Tomb of the Mummy Dragon by Endium (Commission)
Happy Halloween everyone! The art is a commission by Endium. Below is a short Halloween story, enjoy~
A haunted house didn't seem like much of a place for a dragon, Hueroc thought. Dragons were fierce and scary themselves, not [i]scared[/i] like bipeds so often were; surely whatever costumed frights waited within to thrill the anthros would have no effect on him!
His lizard friend was adamant, however. He just didn't [i]get[/i] it, he insisted. The point of the haunted house wasn't to be stoic and tough and unfazed by it all, it was to embrace the thrill! The haunted house was like a scary movie--another anthro quirk he didn't really understand--and someone went in [i]wanting[/i] to be scared, to get into the spirit of the place, imagine they really were in danger, get themselves so worked up and tense that all the frights got their heart racing in such an exciting way!
Hueroc supposed that perhaps, lacking wings or draconic agility or the skill to hunt live prey or any of their so many other shortcomings, walking deliberately into 'scary' situations was the best an anthro could do to get its little heart pounding.
But the lizard was insistent, so into the haunted house he went. The organizer on the porch was surprised to have a draconic patron, but after a moment's consideration gestured him in, the fox's fluffy tail wagging as the floorboards creaked beneath his client's paws. "I suggest you watch your step, though, this old haunted mansion might not be up to your weight!" The red dragon paused, blinked, and pushed firmly at the wood with his paw, suspicious: another creak, but the wood held. He huffed and lifted his head again and prowled inside, trying not to think about it but unable to keep from looking doubtfully at the walls of the first room of the house: if it really was so old, perhaps falling through old rotten floorboards might actually be something for him to fear!
The first room was a graveyard, full of soft moans, whistling wind, and other 'spooky' sounds emanating from speakers hidden behind the headstones. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light, and the sounds were false and artificial in his ears; he could too clearly see the moss around the 'graves' was sprayed-on paint, that the shadows moving in the corners were sheets billowing in fans--an anthro's weaker senses, he supposed, might be less certain, but to a dragon it was too jarringly false for him to immerse himself in it! So on he went, tucking in his wings to fit through the door to the next room.
A wolfess in witch's garb cackled, hesitated--and then laughed again, a high ringing actually pretty creepy sound, fitting well in the gap between not good enough and overdone. A cauldron sat before her, white steam rising, liquid sloshing within as she stirred with a big wooden ladle. "A spell to wake the dead, oh yes, a [i]powerful[/i] spell on a night such as this! Hee hee hee," she peered out at him from beneath the rim of her pointed black hat. "And with [i]your[/i] help, hee hee... Dragon scale, dragon blood, makes for the strongest spells of all!"
She giggled, but Hueroc's tail twitched: it was only a few hundred years ago some anthros had thought that true, and he counted at least one ancestor killed for such false hopes. He barely glanced at the rest of the room, already eager to move on, and turned for the far door as the wolf continued to speak. "Yes that's it, look away, my dearie, pay no attention to the nice witch at the cauldron... Hee hee hee, certainly don't turn around to see her sneaking up behind you with a spell to make you hers!"
The dragon had to resist the urge to snort: he would have heard her if she'd taken a step, on a floor so loud as this one! Though even then he glanced back, just for a moment, before moving on to the next room. He was evidently moving a little fast, for as he came in he saw a bushy tail slipping out the far side, and a couple shrieks of fright sounded from around the corner as other guests of the haunted house encountered something they found scary! But to him, the following rooms were disappointing. The zombies too predictable and seeming hesitant to get close to him, the bloody haunt that followed smelling so strongly of paint. The mist at least cut down his sight to nearly that of an anthro, but his hearing picked up the slack and he heard the footsteps long before the hatchet-wielding panther leapt out of the gloom to brandish the weapon at him! He recoiled even having heard him coming--not really to the point of trusting a biped with a weapon, even one that looked fake and blunted!--and then huffed, his wings rustling, his heart rate actually accelerated for once and leaving him feeling undignified and disappointed in himself for flinching more than anything else. Snapping his jaws in annoyance, he stalked onward and found himself at the top of a staircase down to a basement.
This was his most difficult challenge yet, if only because of the size of his paws, having to tread very carefully to avoid missing any of the narrow steps, but at last he reached the bottom. Down here it was darker still, a glowing stripe on the floor providing the only light and guidance to each house guest, and his gaze swiveled side to side as he followed the path around the corner. A horse waited here, where the hallway ended and split, leading to two closed doors. A pair of whispering terriers giggled and bounced forward when the stallion ushered them through one door, and he paused before gesturing for him to take the other path, leading him out of the hallway and into a large stone chamber filled with-- His eyes lit up.
Treasure!
After a moment he relaxed, after that burst of excitement that had raced through him by instinct when he'd first caught sight of so much shine: upon closer inspection, the treasure was fake, looking to be mostly plastic and some metallic paint, as much as some of it might glitter so attractively. The room was done up like a tomb--Egyptian, the name of the anthro culture finally made it out of his mind after a moment. A raised dais heaped with treasure occupied nearly a third of the room, a gilded, stylized coffin at its center. He came closer to inspect it, his head tilting to admire the intricate painting in the half-light, but froze when he heard a rumble from behind him.
The door had shut! Not a wooden one, but one of stone, that seemed to have actually [i]lowered[/i] into place. A pretty impressive mechanism, he had to admit, that he hadn't even noticed it on his way by! Spinning back around, he looked for an exit, but didn't have time to locate one before the flame-shaped light bulbs scattered around the room dimmed still further. A second rumbling sounded, this one from the dais, and he sat on his haunches to watch as the sarcophagus slowly slid open. Angry hisses and moans sounded from within, perhaps just growling or perhaps speaking words in an anthro tongue he didn't understand, before at last settling into English.
"Rrrrr... Who dares wake the mummy of the pharaoh? [i]Who[/i] dares disturb my endless slumber?" An anthro sat up from within the coffin, swathed in yellow-brown bandages, one eye and patches of fur visible, colored black by powder or make-up. "You!" it shrieked, teeth baring in a canine muzzle. "How [i]dare[/i] you disturb me here! Did you think to steal my treasures? You will [i]pay[/i] for this intrusion." The words echoed off the walls, and it all seemed cliche, nearly disappointing when the rumbling noises resumed, and Hueroc merely stared back when the dressed-up 'mummy' howled, "you will [i]stay[/i] here with me for all eternity!"
Hueroc sat and waited, wondering just what was supposed to be so scary about something so cliche that even he didn't feel overly surprised by the pronouncement of doom--only to yelp, when the floor beneath him, what he'd thought was solid rock, began to quake! He flinched and looked down, and then something struck him on the flanks, sending him stumbling towards the dais. "Yes, that is it, accept your fate, low thief! There shall be no escape!" Bandage-wrapped arms rose from the dog's sides, gestured at him, and then to Hueroc's shock rolls of white bandage appeared in the air around him!
"Hey--what the--!" Hueroc backed up, but the bandages moved with him, and then sprang to life! The loose ends lashed towards him so fast they were nearly a blur, too swiftly for even a dragon's reflexes to avoid, and as soon as they touched him they began to wrap themselves around his limbs! "No-- Rrr-- Let go!" he cried, but the mummy only laughed, a deep, echoing evil laugh, as despite his attempts to wrench his limbs away the cloth continued to wrap itself around him. He stumbled, he turned for the door, only to trip, and yowl, and fall: already his hind legs had been pinned together, from his digits nearly to his knees! Hueroc hissed and tugged against the bandages, but so many wraps were enough to resist his strength, and he whined in anxiety when he tried to reach a forepaw back to claw them apart and discovered each front paw had already been bandaged thoroughly, his claws trapped between layers of cloth and useless to get out!
"Hey-- No! Let me [i]out![/i]" he said, half roar and half plea, but the dog was deaf to his demands, and he squirmed as the rolls finished his hind legs all the way to his hips, pinning them so tightly together he couldn't get his paws back beneath him! Increasingly desperate, the red dragon reached for his forelegs, to try to gnaw a paw free, but before he could get a chance another roll found his snout, and one two three quick wraps were enough to pin his jaws together, sealing away teeth and fire and even speech! "Hhhn nnnn! Nnn Nnnnnnn!" he said, still more urgently, but the magically animated bandages continued to mummify him, pinioning his wings, covering his chest and his forelegs and working their way along his neck and tail too! He thrashed and tried to struggle, but his hind legs were immobilized already, his fores resisting a [i]very[/i] strong pull that forced them to fold across his chest-- No, he had to get out!
But no matter how he howled or bucked or fought the magic and the layers of thick cloth could not be overcome, and soon Hueroc was trapped there on the floor, the bandages so very, very tight... So tight he could hardly move at all! He howled one more time as the cloth wrapped a few more times over his snout, his horns, his ears and his eyes too! The world went black, his hearing muffled, even the laughter of the possibly far more real than he'd expected mummy hard to make out now! "Hlllnnn! Mmmm! Nnn mmmm mmm!" he tried to say, heart thudding in his chest, breathing hard as he fought, and grunted, and squirmed... It was no use... he couldn't move!
"Welcome, dragon, to my tomb... There shall be no escape for you, nor any other who dares enter! Howl all you like; you shall keep me company, for eternity..."
Hueroc growled back, as defiant as he could sound while so snugly mummified. He couldn't be serious--this was just a haunted house! Just to scare... Yeah, this had his heart [i]really[/i] racing, he certainly hadn't expected it, but they couldn't just keep him here, right? They had to let him go, didn't they?
Didn't they...?
A haunted house didn't seem like much of a place for a dragon, Hueroc thought. Dragons were fierce and scary themselves, not [i]scared[/i] like bipeds so often were; surely whatever costumed frights waited within to thrill the anthros would have no effect on him!
His lizard friend was adamant, however. He just didn't [i]get[/i] it, he insisted. The point of the haunted house wasn't to be stoic and tough and unfazed by it all, it was to embrace the thrill! The haunted house was like a scary movie--another anthro quirk he didn't really understand--and someone went in [i]wanting[/i] to be scared, to get into the spirit of the place, imagine they really were in danger, get themselves so worked up and tense that all the frights got their heart racing in such an exciting way!
Hueroc supposed that perhaps, lacking wings or draconic agility or the skill to hunt live prey or any of their so many other shortcomings, walking deliberately into 'scary' situations was the best an anthro could do to get its little heart pounding.
But the lizard was insistent, so into the haunted house he went. The organizer on the porch was surprised to have a draconic patron, but after a moment's consideration gestured him in, the fox's fluffy tail wagging as the floorboards creaked beneath his client's paws. "I suggest you watch your step, though, this old haunted mansion might not be up to your weight!" The red dragon paused, blinked, and pushed firmly at the wood with his paw, suspicious: another creak, but the wood held. He huffed and lifted his head again and prowled inside, trying not to think about it but unable to keep from looking doubtfully at the walls of the first room of the house: if it really was so old, perhaps falling through old rotten floorboards might actually be something for him to fear!
The first room was a graveyard, full of soft moans, whistling wind, and other 'spooky' sounds emanating from speakers hidden behind the headstones. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light, and the sounds were false and artificial in his ears; he could too clearly see the moss around the 'graves' was sprayed-on paint, that the shadows moving in the corners were sheets billowing in fans--an anthro's weaker senses, he supposed, might be less certain, but to a dragon it was too jarringly false for him to immerse himself in it! So on he went, tucking in his wings to fit through the door to the next room.
A wolfess in witch's garb cackled, hesitated--and then laughed again, a high ringing actually pretty creepy sound, fitting well in the gap between not good enough and overdone. A cauldron sat before her, white steam rising, liquid sloshing within as she stirred with a big wooden ladle. "A spell to wake the dead, oh yes, a [i]powerful[/i] spell on a night such as this! Hee hee hee," she peered out at him from beneath the rim of her pointed black hat. "And with [i]your[/i] help, hee hee... Dragon scale, dragon blood, makes for the strongest spells of all!"
She giggled, but Hueroc's tail twitched: it was only a few hundred years ago some anthros had thought that true, and he counted at least one ancestor killed for such false hopes. He barely glanced at the rest of the room, already eager to move on, and turned for the far door as the wolf continued to speak. "Yes that's it, look away, my dearie, pay no attention to the nice witch at the cauldron... Hee hee hee, certainly don't turn around to see her sneaking up behind you with a spell to make you hers!"
The dragon had to resist the urge to snort: he would have heard her if she'd taken a step, on a floor so loud as this one! Though even then he glanced back, just for a moment, before moving on to the next room. He was evidently moving a little fast, for as he came in he saw a bushy tail slipping out the far side, and a couple shrieks of fright sounded from around the corner as other guests of the haunted house encountered something they found scary! But to him, the following rooms were disappointing. The zombies too predictable and seeming hesitant to get close to him, the bloody haunt that followed smelling so strongly of paint. The mist at least cut down his sight to nearly that of an anthro, but his hearing picked up the slack and he heard the footsteps long before the hatchet-wielding panther leapt out of the gloom to brandish the weapon at him! He recoiled even having heard him coming--not really to the point of trusting a biped with a weapon, even one that looked fake and blunted!--and then huffed, his wings rustling, his heart rate actually accelerated for once and leaving him feeling undignified and disappointed in himself for flinching more than anything else. Snapping his jaws in annoyance, he stalked onward and found himself at the top of a staircase down to a basement.
This was his most difficult challenge yet, if only because of the size of his paws, having to tread very carefully to avoid missing any of the narrow steps, but at last he reached the bottom. Down here it was darker still, a glowing stripe on the floor providing the only light and guidance to each house guest, and his gaze swiveled side to side as he followed the path around the corner. A horse waited here, where the hallway ended and split, leading to two closed doors. A pair of whispering terriers giggled and bounced forward when the stallion ushered them through one door, and he paused before gesturing for him to take the other path, leading him out of the hallway and into a large stone chamber filled with-- His eyes lit up.
Treasure!
After a moment he relaxed, after that burst of excitement that had raced through him by instinct when he'd first caught sight of so much shine: upon closer inspection, the treasure was fake, looking to be mostly plastic and some metallic paint, as much as some of it might glitter so attractively. The room was done up like a tomb--Egyptian, the name of the anthro culture finally made it out of his mind after a moment. A raised dais heaped with treasure occupied nearly a third of the room, a gilded, stylized coffin at its center. He came closer to inspect it, his head tilting to admire the intricate painting in the half-light, but froze when he heard a rumble from behind him.
The door had shut! Not a wooden one, but one of stone, that seemed to have actually [i]lowered[/i] into place. A pretty impressive mechanism, he had to admit, that he hadn't even noticed it on his way by! Spinning back around, he looked for an exit, but didn't have time to locate one before the flame-shaped light bulbs scattered around the room dimmed still further. A second rumbling sounded, this one from the dais, and he sat on his haunches to watch as the sarcophagus slowly slid open. Angry hisses and moans sounded from within, perhaps just growling or perhaps speaking words in an anthro tongue he didn't understand, before at last settling into English.
"Rrrrr... Who dares wake the mummy of the pharaoh? [i]Who[/i] dares disturb my endless slumber?" An anthro sat up from within the coffin, swathed in yellow-brown bandages, one eye and patches of fur visible, colored black by powder or make-up. "You!" it shrieked, teeth baring in a canine muzzle. "How [i]dare[/i] you disturb me here! Did you think to steal my treasures? You will [i]pay[/i] for this intrusion." The words echoed off the walls, and it all seemed cliche, nearly disappointing when the rumbling noises resumed, and Hueroc merely stared back when the dressed-up 'mummy' howled, "you will [i]stay[/i] here with me for all eternity!"
Hueroc sat and waited, wondering just what was supposed to be so scary about something so cliche that even he didn't feel overly surprised by the pronouncement of doom--only to yelp, when the floor beneath him, what he'd thought was solid rock, began to quake! He flinched and looked down, and then something struck him on the flanks, sending him stumbling towards the dais. "Yes, that is it, accept your fate, low thief! There shall be no escape!" Bandage-wrapped arms rose from the dog's sides, gestured at him, and then to Hueroc's shock rolls of white bandage appeared in the air around him!
"Hey--what the--!" Hueroc backed up, but the bandages moved with him, and then sprang to life! The loose ends lashed towards him so fast they were nearly a blur, too swiftly for even a dragon's reflexes to avoid, and as soon as they touched him they began to wrap themselves around his limbs! "No-- Rrr-- Let go!" he cried, but the mummy only laughed, a deep, echoing evil laugh, as despite his attempts to wrench his limbs away the cloth continued to wrap itself around him. He stumbled, he turned for the door, only to trip, and yowl, and fall: already his hind legs had been pinned together, from his digits nearly to his knees! Hueroc hissed and tugged against the bandages, but so many wraps were enough to resist his strength, and he whined in anxiety when he tried to reach a forepaw back to claw them apart and discovered each front paw had already been bandaged thoroughly, his claws trapped between layers of cloth and useless to get out!
"Hey-- No! Let me [i]out![/i]" he said, half roar and half plea, but the dog was deaf to his demands, and he squirmed as the rolls finished his hind legs all the way to his hips, pinning them so tightly together he couldn't get his paws back beneath him! Increasingly desperate, the red dragon reached for his forelegs, to try to gnaw a paw free, but before he could get a chance another roll found his snout, and one two three quick wraps were enough to pin his jaws together, sealing away teeth and fire and even speech! "Hhhn nnnn! Nnn Nnnnnnn!" he said, still more urgently, but the magically animated bandages continued to mummify him, pinioning his wings, covering his chest and his forelegs and working their way along his neck and tail too! He thrashed and tried to struggle, but his hind legs were immobilized already, his fores resisting a [i]very[/i] strong pull that forced them to fold across his chest-- No, he had to get out!
But no matter how he howled or bucked or fought the magic and the layers of thick cloth could not be overcome, and soon Hueroc was trapped there on the floor, the bandages so very, very tight... So tight he could hardly move at all! He howled one more time as the cloth wrapped a few more times over his snout, his horns, his ears and his eyes too! The world went black, his hearing muffled, even the laughter of the possibly far more real than he'd expected mummy hard to make out now! "Hlllnnn! Mmmm! Nnn mmmm mmm!" he tried to say, heart thudding in his chest, breathing hard as he fought, and grunted, and squirmed... It was no use... he couldn't move!
"Welcome, dragon, to my tomb... There shall be no escape for you, nor any other who dares enter! Howl all you like; you shall keep me company, for eternity..."
Hueroc growled back, as defiant as he could sound while so snugly mummified. He couldn't be serious--this was just a haunted house! Just to scare... Yeah, this had his heart [i]really[/i] racing, he certainly hadn't expected it, but they couldn't just keep him here, right? They had to let him go, didn't they?
Didn't they...?
8 years ago
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