Henry sat by the lake in a dazed state. He couldn’t believe the reality before him. Somehow, he had become a lizard. More specifically, a Dragon. He had glanced at himself through reflection on the calm and clean surface of the lake. He had the contour of a lizard but was fed with steroids. He imagined this was how a lizard would have looked if their muscles were honed and refined like a human. He had pale black scales that covered his whole body. His eyes were like a pair of amber crystals embedded into the sockets. There were tiny spikes protruding from his head to the beginning of his tail. His two rows of teeth resembled the edges of a serrated knife. His tail was as long as his body and it was constantly moving and flowing like a leaf caught in a heavy gust. He didn’t have wings. He checked. There were no signs of him growing wings.

No matter how he sliced it, he looked like a Dragon in its infancy stage. But how did he know this was a Dragon? It was simple, he had read far too many fantasy stories and fiction when he was still human. For a fanatic like him, it wasn’t hard for him to realize what had happened to him. He was now on the staple path of a reincarnation story but the problem here was that he could not remember what happened to him. His memories were vague and blurry. He remembered his name, Henry. He remembered he had a family but he couldn’t remember who they were and how many siblings he had. He remembered he was from a planet called Earth. He remembered he was twenty-four years old prior to this predicament he was currently in.

And the strangest thing of all, he didn’t feel a sense of longing for whatever kind of life he had led prior to this. It was as if the life before this was over and this was where he belonged. He missed his family but not enough to cry or bawl about it. He couldn’t remember if he had friends but considering he indulged so much in fantasy fiction, he doubted he had any. However, that was a part of him that was telling him that he did indeed have friends but it was whatever now as he could not remember anything past his name and his fondness. It would be a lie if he said he never once imagined himself in this sort of situation but now that he was indeed in such a situation, he didn’t feel thrilled. There were some things that were better left as fantasy and fiction. This is one of them.

He did not know how long had passed as he sat by the lake and wallowed in his self-pity. The grass began to make his rear sore and there was nothing he could do. If he stood up, his limbs would be the sacrifice. There were no shoes or clothing to be worn. Now that he was exposed to the elements, he began to have longings. He longed for the comfort he had and his human body. There was nothing wrong with his body but at the same time, everything just felt wrong to his senses. Now that he knew he was a Dragon, he realized how different his vision was in comparison to when he was a human. At first, he had chalked it up to his grogginess and anxiety but now that the former had subsided and left him with only the latter, he knew this was no effect of his mental state but merely how the eyes of a Dragon perceived the world.

What do I do now…?

He continued sitting by the lake. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t how he came to be. He had no objective. If he had any, it would be to survive. Though he couldn’t see any imminent threats, his guts were telling him danger was always afoot. The threats were merely waiting for the right window to pounce. He didn’t know why he knew that. He just did.

Maybe this is all just a dream…

Such a thought floated through his mind. Albeit all that he had gone through not some time ago, it was hard to see it all as merely a dream. Still, he hoped this was all just a lucid dream and in a few moments he would wake up. He began laughing at that optimism of his. He was laughing at his denial and his ability to still hold such an optimistic thought. His laugh echoed far and wide. He could hear himself laughing, bringing home how he was truly no longer a human.

At that moment, the water began to ripple and a chill crawled down his spine. The water surface broke apart and a crocodile-like monster with bifurcated jaws emerged from the lake. Henry screamed at the top of his lungs but a sharp roar resounded from his throat instead. The crocodile creature slammed its jaws shut but not at Henry. Instead, it clamped down on some kind of mantis-like creature that had crept up on him without his knowledge. Henry stared with his eyes widened at the scene before him. The crocodile creature was huge. As he was in the infancy stage, he did not truly know how big the crocodile creature was but nevertheless, he was the size of the crocodile creature’s palm. The crocodile creature retreated back into the lake after it swallowed the mantis-like creature.

His surroundings became peaceful once again and the lake returned to its serenity.

Although Henry was thankful, no way he would still be staying here or else he would be the crocodile creature’s second meal. And thus, he whipped his body into the appropriate posture and began moving. It felt as if he was riding a bicycle for the first time. It was easy to make his body move but the difficult part was staying upright. Unlike a human, a dragon moved with four limbs and they bore no distinction as to which was the hand or leg. His forelimbs did have opposable thumbs but that was about it. He tried walking with two legs but it quickly proved to be an impossible feat. It was akin to a human trying to walk with one leg.

Even though he was experimenting with his new body, he did not neglect his vigilance on his surroundings. The feeling of danger never left him. It was already hard enough to walk with his new body, let alone being the utmost cautious of his surroundings.

The splash of the warm sun took him out of his deep thought and he glanced around him. Somehow and someway, he had wandered into a glade. The trees were sparse here and the sun was able to find its way through. Even grass and trees looked a lot less grim with the light spilt on them. At a glance, it looked like a good place for him to settle down and gather his thoughts. However, the feeling of danger was still there. In fact, it had only gotten stronger when he entered the glade.

Something has been following me and it’s close.

That realization of his came too late as that something streaked through the air and rammed into him. His world spun and he went tumbling across the ground. Remembering his claws, he dug them into the soil and prevented himself from tumbling further. He recovered his bearings and confronted his assailant, baring his fangs and snarling. He had intended to look mean and tough but the creature before him made him falter in his attempt.

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What had assaulted him was a centipede around his size. The back of it was covered in a green-like substance that helped the centipede camouflage itself among the grass. The centipede raised its frontal body and clacked its pincers. Its antennas were flailing about in an erratic manner, increasing its intimidating factor.

Henry felt his limbs instantly turning into jelly. He wanted to turn tail and ran but a part of him was preventing him from doing so. Fight, it was telling him. Kill this thing, it screamed at him. If you back down now, it will never stop coming for you, he heard such a voice telling him. And he agreed. He was nothing but a juicy prey. The predators that had yet to strike were probably wary of the other predators, not because he was a Dragon. He saw his reflection. A Dragon he might be, he didn’t look terrifying. In fact, he looked docile and vulnerable.

Fight! Rip that thing apart!

Henry screamed in his heart, fueled by the unfounded rage brimming within him. From the depth of his lungs, he unleashed a roar. A gust of wind blew along with his shout. The centipede froze in the face of its roar, probably stunned by the little Dragon’s sudden courage. At the beckon of the inner voice, Henry lunged at that moment. Though the voice told him to bite down on the centipede, Henry used his claws instead. He didn’t even want to imagine how the centipede would smell on the inside, let alone taste it. He plunged his claws into the centipede’s carapace, drawing out a goo-like substance in a gush. He was relieved over the fact that his stomach was empty. Otherwise, he would have thrown everything up.

The centipede screeched and flailed, throwing Henry back. It spun around and smacked its tail right into Henry’s body. The centipede wasn’t swift by any means but as Henry was still unaccustomed to his new body, he found it difficult to move quickly. His world whirled but it didn’t flip. Contrary to his expectation, he only went staggering. The centipede wasn’t as strong as he believed as he was sent tumbling just a minute ago. The centipede hissed and lunged with its sickle claws raised. It had a pair of limbs at its front which was thrice the length of its numerous other limbs, arched in the shape of a sickle. It swiped its sickle claws at Henry. He veered his neck away from the attack, a feat that was easier than anticipated. A Dragon’s neck was more stretchable than a human’s.

The centipede stamped forward with each strike and Henry was scuttering back with each dodge. The centipede wasn’t fast. He knew if he retaliated, he would land a heavy blow but it was easier said than done. An unfounded fear was holding him back. The primal instincts of a human, doubt and caution, was still ingrained in him. On the other hand, he had a voice screaming at him to fight back. He was torn between which to listen to but inevitably, he was following the voice of his human side as he kept retreating from the centipede.

Until his back met a stump and there was nowhere left for him to scutter.

The instincts of his Dragon side shouted louder than before. He ducked his head down to avoid being decapitated as the centipede’s sickle claw swung across. Uppercut, a voice told him. Henry obeyed and coiled his claw into a fist before swinging it up. His fist caught the centipede’s jaws. He felt the centipede’s carapace cracking. It stumbled backwards and Henry threw another punch into its open torso. The centipede jerked back from his punch and went sprawling across the ground. Henry kept his forelimbs up in front of his face like a boxer but as he fell forward, he splayed his forelimbs out and supported himself before his face went smacking against the ground. He surprised himself. It felt natural to put his arms up as a guard. It was instinctual.

Was I a fighter of some sort?

His mulling ended when the centipede flipped back to its feet, growling. It rushed at him without a pause, seemingly unperturbed by the injuries it had suffered. Its blood was constantly spilling in its wake as it moved. Perhaps encouraged by his successful strikes from before, Henry met the centipede’s rush as he raised his fist. He threw a straight but the centipede sidestepped his punch. The creature hissed mockingly and struck in retaliation. Its sickle claw drew a cut across the back of his body. A searing pain spread throughout his body. It hurt as much as a grazed wound from a bullet but he didn’t know why he knew what a bullet graze wound would feel like.

Henry threw a hook and the centipede dodged this punch too. Even if it wasn’t fast, it was still faster than his punches. The centipede struck after every dodge. Gradually, Henry was losing his edge. The centipede cackled gleefully at its apparent victory as it dealt one blow after another. It even began mocking Henry with chuckles after every counter strike.

Tear that wretched creature into pieces!

Henry adhered to the voice after receiving his dozenth wound. When the centipede struck, he lurched forward with his head and crunched down the centipede’s “neck”. The centipede screeched painfully and lashed out with its body. The foul critter’s blood oozed into his mouth and he fought down the urge to puke. He poured more strength into his jaws, clamping tighter down on the creepy crawler as it screeched louder. The centipede plunged its sickle claws at Henry but he held it off with his forelimbs. Using his superior strength, he twisted the centipede’s sickles until blood sprayed from the tears. The centipede screamed louder than before and flung Henry away with a burst of strength from its brink of despair. However, a chunk of flesh and guts were torn off from Henry’s bite. Blood spurted and sprouted everywhere from the large gaping wound.

Henry did not go tumbling when he was flung. He knew the routine by now. He dug his claws deep into the soil and prevented himself from losing his balance. He shook himself off the momentary daze and spat out all that got into his mouth. It did not taste like anything he had ever eaten, or at least what he remembered he had ever eaten.

The centipede’s movement turned sluggish as seconds went by. It stared straight at Henry with fury in its gaze. It desperately wriggled its body closer to him but it stopped halfway through. Its body twitched for a while before it completely stopped moving. Its eyes were unmoving but blood trickled incessantly from them and they were fixed on Henry. A shiver wrapped around him and he looked away from the dead bug.

Henry heaved a huge sigh of relief and plopped himself down on the ground. He thought it would be hard to assess the wounds on his back but it wasn’t. His neck bent and stretched nimbly around, allowing him a good portion of the view of his back. It felt a little unsettling but he got used to it quickly. The afterthought of the centipede was a much more horrifying experience in comparison to his pliable neck. The wounds weren’t grave. They were shallow but there were quite a few. His blood was still red, it was a relief though he didn’t know why it was a relief. At this point, he was tired of the self-questioning that left him with no answer.

The feeling of danger receded before he realized but the fight with the centipede had left him too exhausted to care. He just wanted to rest for now but he couldn’t just do it here, or else he would suffer another ambush much like this one.

I suppose I should first find a place where I can rest without worrying about being attacked from out of nowhere.

He had thought of making this glade his hideout but he reprimanded himself of that foolishness immediately. The glade was too open and without any cover. It only made him vulnerable to the elements and the other dangerous monsters. A cave would be best, he told himself. With that plan in mind, he set off into the trees, wary of every movement made by nature. It was a jungle out here, as the saying goes.