A beast so fierce

She.

Prowess and power to have survived from a time before man walked or even swam.  In the interim millennia,  She evolved in wits and wisdom.  Efficiency of things like propagation of the species, were the domain of a hyper Darwinism with a divine sway.  She.  Always a She, was to be born pregnant in perpetuity.

One at a time.  Never more than two at a time.  The gestation period best estimated in centuries.  She dies and the daughter births.  Over and over, one at a time.  Fire and blood.  Screams  shake your torso and the femurs rattle.  A giant infant three or four times as long as a man is tall.  Violence and blood.  Heat and sulphur.  She lands on all four.

Eyes a fiery pool of refract and gold.  She blinks slow and aware.

Far from malevolent, She is of her own mind.  She does not suffer fools.  She understands almost all human beings to be fools.  Light speed quick and clever beyond, discourse with She will ultimately cost far more than such an experience is worth.  Absent an acute illness within weeks or months, madness will visit sooner rather than later.

When she glances, the weight impresses like twenty feet down in a swimming pool.

There is one thing.  Um, legend.  The way I understand it, I’ve studied it.  I know.  I’ve talked to a lot of people and they all know.  You get one to talk to you right after being pushed out and She is your bitch.  Each She needs to have some sorta relationship with at least one of us.  I can’t find the actual rules.  The idea is to be first on the scene.

I need to locate the beasts, get close enough to evaluate the health of the elder She, make pals with the younger She while making sure She’s ready to kick open the furnace door and produce a flaming prodigy.

What this is, is a stroll in the garden.  Walk in the park.  A BBQ with friends and decent hooch.  Fun will be had and I’ll have giant flying mammal reptile as a courtesan.

My name is Gerald Frankenhammer.  I dabble in finance and intrigue.  Legends and myths.  Ghosts and extraterrestrials.  Conspiracies and the macabre.

What I’m about to tell you,  will astound you.

Drinks for my friends.

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