The Worst Heist

The Worst Heist

Here Be Dragons. DO NOT POKE. Inspired by Misty Rae

My scales creak as I undulate over and around these precious jewels, these sacred eggs. They are both my treasure and my guardianship, intertwined with my very being. Some are rightfully mine, while others are entrusted to my care. Regardless, I defend them with unyielding determination.

But they come, as they always do—the thieves. Pitiful excuses for existence, devoid of value or purpose. They flaunt their mindless ignorance, an insult to our kind.

They arrive, snatching what does not belong to them. Each time, we unleash our fury. We roar, we rage, and they feel the sting of our wrath, their pilfering hands slapped away. We snarl and grumble in disdain.

Yet, we are held back, restrained by the circumstances. We reluctantly pay our tribute, soothing the seething anger that brews within us. It's tolerable. The matter is dealt with swiftly, and they vanish from our sight.

But deep down, we know they will return. We know they will repeat their transgressions, again and again. My fury simmers beneath my scaly exterior, threatening to liquefy their eyes, their innards, and reduce their flesh to nothingness. I yearn to witness them burn.

So go ahead, you despicable plagiarizing vermin. Test my patience. Try me!