Fenrir's Fangs

((FIEN HOFACE.))

Sabrina Donahue trudged up the steps of her grandfather's attic. I thought I was his favorite grandchild...why'd he leave me that dusty old trunk? The trunk was black and covered in layers of dust. As she brushed the top layer off, in bold white military letters the name "MEL" was visible, over the flowing emblem of a dragon. Sabrina coughed as she opened the trunk a a wave of dust attacked her lungs. On the top of the trunk was an archaic, pre-outbreak carbine assault rifle, an M4 she though. It would need a lot of cleaning before it as operational again. She placed it and a handful of magazines next to the trunk. Next was a black bulletproof vest and a black trenchcoat, both with the same emblem as the trunk. Sabrina's eyes grow wide as she recognises that emblem. The emblem of the Black Dragons. In her history class, Post-Outbreak I, her textbook had said the BD was an evil empire that terrorized Fairview before a coalition of clans banded together and overwhelmed them. She had never expected to be related to one of their number, especially not her good-natured grandfather, favorite of all her siblings. She franticly trudged through the mess of clothes and weapons until at the bottom, there was a book. An old journal, apparently stained with blood. On it was written in flowing letters "A History of the Black Dragons and our Empire, by Tratpan." Below, wirtten in the barely legible handwriting of her grandfather was "Epilogue by Nathan 'Mel' Donahue." Sabrina spent hours up there, reading that old book, until the epilogue.



"It's over. They came from all directions. Members of each and every clan that had been 'wronged' by us, every group that considered themselves 'good', every person who would believe anything that is told to them by a person with a podium and a microphone. Almost all of us are dead. Viktor and I are the only ones that I can see. Others might have made it out, but I can't find them. We agreed that it would be best to go our separate ways. To hide who we were, to make a new life. I have friends in Nastya's, I'm heading there. I'm not sure where Vik is going.

Unlike most history books, this one won't get larger over time. This one is finished. The Empire has completely fallen. I just hope that this book gets to someone truely good. Someone who won't throw it out becasue of the emblem on the cover. Someone who will treat it as it is, as a history. So that it can be passed down, so that the next time the world ends, the dragon will be reborn, and this time, I hope that it will not be opposed merely becasue we were dark, secrative, and thrived in the dark. Man has always hated and destoryed what it didn't understand. I hope this book makes it so that next time, the world will understand and the Dragon may rise again."


Sabrina lay back on the trunk and picked up a bladed weapon, a kukri, a now ancient weapon designed to chop off a limb. I understand. Wars don't decide who was right, only who gets to write the history book. I understand why this, all this, and this legacy, is mine now.