The dark alley was a disaster zone, with graffiti scripted over graffiti till it was like preschoolers finger painting. Trash and unnaturally large fungi’s covered the street. Even the vagrants avoid this place as if it was worse than the plague.
Though as is often said 'one man’s trash is another’s man’s treasure' and three men have struck the Jackpot.
One of the buildings was a secret storehouse for blocks of cocaine and the gang was all locked up. It was a stroke of luck that one of the three had overheard a member of the game talking about it a day before the arrests.
Already they had emptied a third of the house.
"There are too many to fit into my car" Whine the biggest of the three who was carrying two blocks to his small blue car. The leader of the three, a short-tempered redhead waved him off, "Just put it in the car, and stop whining." The third one, shortest added his concern, " Bill's right we do not have enough space in the boot. We could come back later, but the police might have found out about this place by then."
This earned him a cuff to the ear. "Listen scardey cat. We are going to get every grain of coke or my name isn't..."
'Aggg'
The scream came from behind the car where Bill was. Both of them whipped out their revolvers and sprinted. To their shock, they found big strong Bill face down on the floor and when they turned him over they found a huge red welt on the side of his face.
The short one was terrified yet fascinated, "Who did this?"
A great dark thing struck out from the shadow of the car, contacting his jaw and sending him flying into the wall.
The red head shot twice into the blackness before diving behind the car for safety. Only there was no safety.
The car moved upwards and upwards till it was held in the sky by the attacker like a strong man at a circus lifting a barbell.
The redhead could hardly believe his eyes, in fact, he wanted to get his eyes checked right now. Under the car holding it up with two arms thick as logs were attached to what could only be described as a nearly eight-foot-tall lizard in a one-piece black swimsuit with a purple color rim, its unblinking yellow eye focused on him. Under its grey and brown strong muscles moved, its broad shoulder wide as a door frame. A still thinking corner of Red's brain thought it would have to bash throw a wall, just to make an opening to move throw comfortably.
A long-forked tongue flicked out and brought Red's attention to the fact he had a gun. Aiming for the beast's chest, he yelled madly. "Die you Freaking, gecko!"
His only bullet merely scuffed the giant lizard's chest and annoyed it. It throws the car to the entrance of the alley and spoke, in a deep scratchy women's voice.
"It's dragon actually. Komodo Dragon." With both clawed hands, each partly eclipsing his shoulder and upper arm, lifting him off the ground till they were eye level. Redhead did not like what he saw in those eyes, he saw the look he himself gave to a bucket of roasted chicken.
Komodo Dragon opened her mouth showing off her whip-like tongue and rows of dagger teeth, dripping with cobwebs of saliva. She was going to eat him!
Red screamed as he had never screamed before, and that saved his life.
Sirens sounded, which stopped her from eating him, but not from seeing starts as her fist made contact with Red's face.
############################################################################ ##################################################
Dragon ( the codename she was taking at the moment, she might change it she's already gone throw. Queen Komodo, Scales, and Liazza) Looked over the edge of a building to see the cops putting the half-aware crooks in the car.
She was glad they had arrived. Really glad. "I have already gone overboard and eaten two guys already. Why? They taste worse than peanut sauce, yuck." bits of drool splattered her muzzle as she withdrew her overly long tongue back into her mouth.
Dragon, like being able to bench press a small truck, see at night like it was the brightest day, having a sense of smell better than ten bloodhounds, and being immune to most firearms. Heck, live with the minor regret at eating crooks, but the tongue thing a bit of a deal brake.
A sharp pain shot up her arm. Looking at her scaled skin, Dragon saw her veins glow orange beneath, she really must go home, now.
She leaped from rooftop to rooftop and swang from ledges. Reptilian power mixed with simian agility allowed Dragon to move above the city as a blur. She was the ultimate predator of the concrete jungle.
Yet right now she needs to be in her den, the orange veins now spread all across her body.
Finally, she was here, just across the street below was a high-rise apartment building. With a single might leap, she cleared the chasm between building, and just in time, for the moment her elongated muzzle crossed the open threshold of the window, the massive 7,9 human-komodo dragon hybrid to a 6,1 slightly taned mature woman with messy dark brown hair and amber eyes, the only feature that carried over into alter ego.
The woman, named Jeniffer 'Jen' Utan a substitute teacher at the St. Olaf school. Jen rolled her shoulders, the metamorphosis always left her stiff and a bit fatigued.
She cast a glance at the two most important things in her room; the wall clock which said 1:50 in the morning, she only had 4 hours of sleep and on the counter four tubes full of glowing orange goo.
"I shouldn't l leave that in the open. But after a nap. Why do villains do their work at night!"
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