Earth's Custodians

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Overcome by exhaustion, unconsciousness had finally got her man, or in this case... DRAGON! Not so much asleep, as just not awake, the naive young hockey player trapped in his human persona, grunted, grumbled and struggled against the bonds that held his torso in an uncomfortable, upright position as events that had led up to this particular low point in his life played out deep within his mind.

A guilt-ridden sigh slipped through his cracked lips as he involuntarily shook his head. Memories of all the subterfuge raced rampantly through his subconscious as wave after wave of regret washed over him. If only he'd seen through all the tricks and lies. With all the opportunities he'd had, he, Peter Bentwhistle, could have stopped everything. Even right at the very end, he'd still had a chance, on that cold, frosty November evening on the Astroturf in Salisbridge, the one place on the planet he truly thought of as his home. Against all odds he'd battled the monster all on his own, stopped him from stealing the laminium deposits, and avoided death, albeit only just. But despite his best efforts, the evil dragon known as Manson had somehow escaped justice, something that had cost the planet and its denizens dearly. If he'd only been braver, stronger, smarter... then the scheming psychopath of a dragon could be in custody now and hundreds of thousands of lives might well have been spared. Deep down it tore him apart to know that he'd been so close, and yet so far.

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