Au-death

[WP] “She’s got piles of gold and treasure and has never once paid any taxes! I’ll be blunt—If you don’t do your job and conduct the audit, I’m going to have to let you go.” “…but she’s a dragon!”

*****

"Yeah," I say to myself. "This is fine."

The locals call it fricassee cavern, and it's far more apt then they realize. The entrance has a small but steady stream of smoke pouring out the top of the rocky gray mouth. I step on the ashen ground around it's entrance, knowing full well why the locals stay far away, and I wish I could do the same. My flashlight's click when turned on has a small echo off the walls of the this rocky labyrinth, and I continue forward. I have a plan. It may not even get a chance to get off the ground but the alternative is worse. Making an enemy out of the IRS? Hell, I may as well be dead in that case.

I went spelunking in college and that was only a handful of years ago, so the navigation and actual movement through the cavern isn't so bad. I wore appropriate attire which I'm merciful for, as the cavern's slick flooring has nearly tripped me up with proper footwear a few times already. It's a long winding trip down, but I'll know when I get there.

After several hours of travel, there's a golden light at the end of the current tunnel. I finish the trail bar I had been munching on and make my way toward it, taking deep breaths and reminding myself that it's fine, it's all fine. I step into the massive entrance and can hear rumbling as the ground shakes slightly. Holy shit, I think that's JUST the dragon breathing. It's still fine. It's all fine.

When I enter, it's like the treasure scene from Aladdin, gold stacked stories and stories high, gems of every color and kind in various shapes and sizes. I spot an emerald twice as big as my head. There's crowns filled with rubies and sapphires, ancient weapons adorned with gems or made of gold, a stack of paintings and other fine art just hiding in a corner. The only things making this an unpleasant experience are a god awful smell that I think is brimstone, and the titanic fire lizard in the middle of the room. Can't forget about him.

He looks ripped straight out of a fairy tale story. Gigantic, not quite as tall as his stash of gold here, but easily rivals eight or so story building. It has talons long as I am tall, orange and red scales coat it's body save it's yellow belly, and its spiked tail playfully flicks on the ground behind it, causing the earth to shake and me to remind myself that it's fine. This'll work.

Probably.

It had already seen me, it's neck stretching up to it's already terrifying height, as it's horned head peers down at me, it's yellow eyes focused on me. "Another fool enters my domain with naught but a noise maker."

I look down and realize he's talking about the hand gun Anderson assured me would come in handy. "Oh, this?" I pick it up, dangling it in front of both of us, and toss it away. "I'm not here to fight. I think you could take me in a fight."

He seems amused by the prospect. "A shame then. You come to fight with words as the others from your eye-ar-ess? You'll find that despite my reclusive nature, I am quite intelligent."

"Nope, don't want that either," I say, shaking my head. He seems curious, though with this being my first mythical creature encounter, I can't tell if he's annoyed or intrigued, so I'm going to move quickly. "I've come to try and strike a bargain."

There's no mystery behind this face, it's laughing, and hard. I've been in one earthquake in my life when my family vacationed in California, and just it's jovial mood is enough to knock me on my ass and rival what I remember of the experience. "You could not possibly have what I want, and any boon I were to grant you would not be equal in worth."

"What I can offer will not change your life, but it will make it easier." This causes him to pause, and I capitalize on that. "If I remember the briefing correctly, the cryptozoology boys discovered you back in the 60s, and send some poor schlub down here every once in awhile to try and get even a fraction of the hoard you're sitting on."

He's still listening, I think, as he scoffs a bit at that, a small gout of flame coming from his nostrils. "Indeed. I believe this is a large time for humans, but this is in the blink of an eye for myself."

Yes, you're smart, immortal, powerful, and the coolest thing ever, I get it. "My point is, I can get people to stop coming down here."

"As you are one of the 'poor schlubs' that you mentioned, I do not believe you possess this ability." Now it looks annoyed, I just need to get to the point.

"Kill my boss and I'll make it so nobody bothers you again." It's back to...let's call it amused. It looks like it could just spit a fireball and roast me, but it also looks like it's listening. This is why I was never a lizard guy. "My boss is old and doesn't want to give up his position. He's been sending people these last few times that could take his position, and I'm his expected replacement. Either I get him some of this treasure, or I die, and he keeps doing this cycle over and over."

"You'd have me kill one of your kin?" he asks, seemingly seriously.

I point at a skeleton nearby. "One of these was my friend Jeremy. I was the best man at his wedding. My boss isn't going to stop until he's dead of old age, which sure, you can easily outlast, but he'll just wait until a crony comes along and this will continue indefinitely."

The dragon is still thinking, and I push for the sale. "One quick jaunt for you, burn him and his house to ash, I get the promotion, I rule that dragon's can't be taxed, nobody ever bothers you again. Deal?"

The dragon thinks it over for a moment and a wicked, sharp toothed smile forms on it's face and I wonder if I blew it. Instead, he laughs again, coins and gold nuggets rattling as they fall to the floor. The dragon stands up fully and seems to be stretching. "Very well, human. It has been...some time since I have caused destruction. Is there anyone else at your Eye-Ar-Ess you wish to have incinerated?"

"Carol always hits reply all instead of reply, but I don't think that's worth a death sentence..."

*****

THE END