“So, I just splash this stuff on me?” Joe-Bob asked. He was standing next to the wishing fountain.

“Yes—for the third time,” I said.

To be honest, I was actually a little worried.

“C’mon Andalon,” I muttered, “don’t stand so close.” I tugged at her nightgown to pull her away from the fountain.

Both Andalon and Kreston had taken off their masks, which seemed to be for the best, as the masks and their effects had apparently antagonized Joe-Bob.

In the middle of my explanation of the wishing fountain, Joe-Bob had demanded a change of clothes. He didn’t give any specifics, though I hazarded a guess and conjured some camo-patterned clothes onto him—which he’d immediately loved.

In retrospect, I should have given more weight to JB’s fashion preference, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The waters of the wishing fountain turned pitch black as Joe-Bob approached the fountain, save for some golden lunes in the middle. The first sign that something was wrong was when I realized the golden lunes were the corneas of a massive, slit-pupiled eye.

I gulped right as he bent down and splashed himself with the liquid.

The result was spectacular. As the waters worked their magic, Joe-Bob’s body exploded outward, like pipes bursting, except with skin and clothes instead of metal. It was as if his body was a portal, and a great beast was stepping through it, one giant limb at a time.

Joe-Bob laughed. “Yes!” he bellowed. “Yes!” It was a frightful sound, hostile and thunderous.

The man stretched and grew.

Andalon and Kreston took shelter in the shadow of the nearest oak tree.

The ground shook as Mr. O’Houlighan slammed his tail against the grassy plain.

Wings unfurled. Golden yellow eyes glowed with predatory vigor.

The big man was now an even bigger dragon, like something out of a kaiju flick, with scales as black as night. It was maybe fifty feet from the ground to the tips of the horns on the back of his head, and that was with him standing on all fours. His horns, fangs, and talons were as pale as the Moon.

Startled cries broke out from some of the other ghosts, both in the air and on the ground.

“Fuck yeah!” Joe-Bob boomed. “This is what I’m talking about!”

With startling speed, the black dragon galumphed across the dreamland’s hills and plains. The air turned to wind as it moved in the wake of his massive body. Spreading his wings, Joe-Bob pushed off the ground. He used a nearby barn for leverage, crushing it beneath his claws.

And then he rose.

I went over to Andalon and Kreston where they were sheltered by the trees. All three of us looked up and stared. Other dopplegenneths also took refuge among the trees.

Joe-Bob’s flight was ominous and uncanny. He hardly flapped his wings at all. Instead, he just soared higher and higher—a shadow casting a shadow upon the land.

“He’s scary, Mr. Genneth!” Andalon said.

“You can say that again…” I muttered, warily.

The black dragon barreled through the skies like a bad driver at rush hour. He wasn’t just obnoxious, he was outright dangerous. He intentionally plowed into Reggie, Anatole, Eunice and Spence, and many others, swatting them with his claws. Eunice beat her wings furiously, rising out of the way. Many of the other fliers did the same.

Joe-Bob spat at them gleefully, spewing fire and invective.

“The sky’s mine, now! I’m the king! Look upon me and tremble, or whatever!”

He blasted fire upward. The fire-stream tore holes through the clouds, forcing Eunice to weave, or else get hit.

“Yeah! Run away!” Joe-Bob roared. “Know your place!”

And then a voice boomed: “Stop, villain!”

“Wha?” Kreston lifted his hand above his eyes to block the sun as he looked up. “Is that… Reggie?”

Yes, it was.

The superhero dared to challenge Joe-Bob to combat.

It ended quickly.

Reggie flew directly at Joe-Bob’s flank at supersonic speed, with all four of his arms stuck forward in fists, only to bounce off the giant black dragon’s scales like a pebble. With a laugh, Joe-Bob swept his hand through the air, smacking the superhero away.

“Oof.” Andalon winced.

Reggie plummeted. He crashed into the forest, tearing through trees, grass, and earth.

Kreston spoke up. “Dr. Howle… shouldn’t you do something about JB?”

“I… uh…” I looked back at him nervously. “I think it’s better if we just leave him be.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Maybe it was just me, but I got a bad vibe from Joe-Bob. To the extent that logic even meant anything in here, I’d like to think I’d have the advantage in a one-on-one against Joe-Bob, or any of the other ghosts within me. After all, I was the one who’d made this place.

Still, there was a part of me that was worried that it wouldn’t be enough—that it would end up like it had with Frank’s ghost, or even worse.

“Mr. Genneth wants to learn how to do wyrmy stuff on his ownsome,” Andalon explained.

I nodded. “That’s right.” I looked Kreston in the eyes. “And I think I’m doing a pretty good job, right?” I turned toward the forest, where the other dopplegenneths had gone. “Right?”

The answers were far from unanimous. “Right!” one said. “I suppose,” said another. “I’m… not so sure,” said a third.

Needless to say, that wasn’t exactly encouraging.

The sky now belonged to Joe-Bob. All the other spirits had fled, either taking refuge in the forest, or simply traveling as far away as they could as fast as they could. Meanwhile, the black dragon went about having his fill of chaos. He ravaged the landscape, breathing fire and death onto forests and wayward farmhouses. Then, with a blood-curdling roar, he soared high.

For a moment, the black dragon disappeared above the scant cloud cover, only to turn around and aim at the ground, his wings sweeping out behind him.

“What is he doing!?” one of me yelled.

“He’s gonna crash!” someone else said.

And crash, he did. It made a terrific sound. JB plowed through the ground, snout-first, wings and limbs ripping up a tsunami of debris as he slowly skidded to an earth-scouring stop.

Picking himself up—dusting himself off with a shake—the black dragon reared up his neck and blasted out a wide stream of fire, to set the land aflame.

“Hell yeah!”

He spat out flames like mad, reveling in the devastation.

Smoke billowed high.

“Uh… excuse me?”

All of us turned.

Another ghost had joined us, escorted to the oak trees’ shade by another copy of Andalon. The new ghost was a young boy, younger than Kreston—though not quite as young as Rayph.

Several of the other dopplegenneths approached us. “What’s your name, son?” one of them asked.

“Uh… T-Topher.” He was meek and soft spoken. He seemed almost afraid of his own words.

“Dr. Howle, sir?”

We turned. “Yes, Kreston?”

“Could I be the one to tell it, this time, maybe?”

“I don’t see why not,” we said.

I glanced warily at the wild dragon in the distance, feeling uneasy.

Kreston looked Topher in the eye. “Watch this.” Thankfully, Kreston held the boy’s attention. Topher didn’t seem to notice Joe-Bob.

Reaching around his back, Kreston pulled Kurama’s mask out of nowhere and then stepped back and put it on.

Topher’s eyes widened in shock and awe. His hands flew to his mouth.

“Woah! You just turned into a fox!”

“He’s not a fox,” Andalon said, “he’s a kiss-oony.”

Topher fell to his knees.

For once, we got to sit back and watch someone else do the work, and to tell you the honest truth, Kreston was great at it. He was definitely more outgoing than he had been before. Even though it was still the same day as when I’d met him, it felt like a long amount of time had passed. Perhaps the ghosts experienced time differently than I did.

It was something to investigate later, I suppose.

It wasn’t long before the time came for Kreston to lead Topher to the fountain. We watched with bated breath, Andalon most of all.

Kreston removed the mask—human again—and stepped back and stood up as the younger boy stuck his hands into the water. The wish-granting fluid flowed up Topher’s arm and wound around his head. It spiraled up into the air and then downward, tracing out larger and larger circles as it lowered to the ground. The liquid dripped down from the spiral in a curtain of droplets. The curtain which flowed across the grass and coalesced into a rising mound that quickly began to take on a recognizable, solid shape.

First four legs—gray, scaly limbs. Then a pair of feathered wings at the back. Then a long tail—a jungle cat’s tail.

In a moment, we were standing face-to-face with a truly fabulous gryphon. First off, it was blue. Second off… the bird part wasn’t an eagle.

It was a cockatoo.

Blue feathers puffed up on the gryphon’s chest and underbelly. Tufts of golden down stuck out in between. A fan of feathers covered its jungle cat tail, banded in reds, and oranges, and yellows, like a stylized sunset.

And it could talk.

“Topher!” The gryphon squawked. Its voice was almost musical. “How’s it been?” The gryphon followed up his greeting with a chirruping, gurgly whistle.

There were tears in the boy’s eyes. “Em-Embertail?”

The cockatoo gryphon flared his feathery head-crest, flexing it up and down like a swaggering eyebrow.

And people took notice.

Reggie, Anatole, and the others came out of the forest, watching in wonder.

Topher threw himself onto the floofy keel of the gryphon’s chest.

“Do you two know each other?” Kreston asked.

Looking away from Embertail, Topher sniffled. “I—I—He—“ But the boy could only stammer incoherently.

Embertail clacked his beak. “I’m Topher’s bestest friend!” He whistled. “Normally, I feel a lot more imaginary than this, but, hey,” he flung a claw in a happy gesture, “what do you know, I guess there’s a first time for everything, right?” Embertail bobbed his head up and down—neck shivering—as he made another gurgly warble.

Topher threw his arms around Embertail’s neck and pulled down. “I’ll never let you go,” he said. “Never ever ever.”

“It’s alright, TopherShrovestide,” the gryphon said, softly, “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

Seeing that sad little boy hug his imaginary cockatoo gryphon friend for the first time impacted me far more than I thought it would. It really was a dream come true for him. It really was. Would that we all could be so easily completed. In practice, fulfillment was fleeting and rare.

It was only then that I noticed Joe-Bob’s rampage had come to an end. Though the fires still burned in the distance, he no longer bellowed and brayed. At first I couldn’t find him, but then I looked up just as a great shadow swept over us all.

Case in point.

“What the hell are you all doing over here?” Joe-Bob demanded, landing beside us.

Embertail’s wings fluttered nervously. He moved forward, positioning his body between Topher and Joe-Bob.

Joe-Bob narrowed his eyes. “Huh? What’s this? What makes him so special?”

Topher scrambled back along the grass, staring up in terror at the giant black dragon.

“You think you’re better than me?” Joe-Bob said.

“I think what I want to think,” Embertail said, his head lifted high.

The dragon glared at the boy. He glared at Andalon and Kreston, too. “What’re you all so goddamn happy about? Why do you get to be happy? You’re all looking at the feathery fuck.” He slapped his claws against his chest. “You should be looking at me!”

“I’ll show you!”

Bending his head down, the Joe-Bob stuck out a slimy, pink, forked tongue and lapped up the fountain’s waters. The fountain was barely a tea-cup compared to the black dragon’s gargantuan head.

Immediately, Joe-Bob began to shrink. Scales lifted up, elongating into feathers. His snout hardened as it curled into a beak. In mere moments, the dragon had turned into a cockatoo gryphon much like Embertail, only one twice as large as Topher’s imaginary friend, and with feathers as black as his dragon-form’s scales.

Then, puffing up his feathers, Joe-Bob took the skies once more, crowing a jaunty tune.

We all stared.

Embertail ruffled his feathers and shook out his wings. “What’s gotten into him?”

I closed my eyes and sighed. “It’s a long story.”

“Fuck off!” Joe-Bob snapped.

Anatole stepped forward, raised his arms and his wings. “You know what, I think we all need to just cool off.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure it’s just him,” Embertail said, tilting his head toward Joe-Bob.

“Dr. Howle, is there anything you could do to, mmm, calm the situation?”

“Guh!” Joe-Bob groaned, shaking his feathers. “Where does a guy go to get something to eat, here?”

I scratched my chin.

“You know what? That gives me an idea…