"You're not real," he said.

But the words were hollow, sounding more like echoes in the
darkness than a voice. The menacing laughter that responded to his claim felt
infinitely more real than his own voice.

He was curled in a ball, his tail and wings wrapped tight
around him, his muzzle touching his chest. All around him was darkness, a void
of night stretching away as far as he could see. He was alone. Except that he
wasn't.

"And who are you to be deciding who is real?" the
voice hissed. It was cold, oily, and yet somehow familiar.

He peeked his head out from the protection of his wings, but
saw nothing. He couldn't hear anything thing now that the voice had stopped.
Nor could he smell anything. He swallowed, trying to force down the lump of
fear rising in his throat. Nothing. No sound, no scent, no feeling of
temperature, nothing in all directions. Nothing except the return of the
mocking laughter.

"You claim to decide what is real? You? A hybrid of a
wolf and a creature that doesn't exist? How real are you?"

He looked down at himself: at the golden fur, the white
scales and wing membranes of his naked body. A wolfdragon, he called himself.
It didn't occur to him to question how he could clearly see himself in the
darkness— he just accepted it. He brought his head up again, trying to find the
source of the voice.

"You're not real," he tried again. "This
place isn't real."

"Oh, I'm very real. And nothing you tell yourself will
change that."

Finally, he caught a glimpse of something in the darkness. At
first it was nothing more than two little pinpricks of red that he guessed to
be eyes, but as he stared, a form came into focus.

He almost wished it hadn't.

The... thing didn't have a color, yet it stood out against
the darkness— it seemed almost to be made of the absence of light. Its form was
massive, but indistinct as if it was constantly changing or stretched away into
the void. The glow of the eyes showed the only distinct feature: a muzzle that
was vaguely lupine. That muzzle was split in a wicked grin that showed rows and
rows of fangs. That muzzle seemed to thrust itself at the wolfdragon, who
pushed himself away from it before settling into a seated position. He cradled
his knees against his chest and shielded himself with his wings as he rocked back
and forth.

"You're not real," he repeated his mantra.
"You're not real. None of this is real."

The thing laughed at him again, and his chanting broke down.
Tears replaced the words. He felt rather than heard the thing approach him. He
pulled his wings tighter, silently praying to himself that the thing wouldn't
come closer. It didn't, but that was no comfort.

"Look at you," the creature mocked. "No
wonder you're not a dragon. Fat as you are, you're not powerful enough to be
one. And you're too big to be a wolf."

He looked through the tears at his prominent belly, the one
he tried so hard to get rid of but could never quite manage. He hated it, even
though his mate said it was nice to snuggle against.

"He settled for you," the thing said, as if it
could read his mind. "You're not his true love, you were just
convenient."

"No. He loves me," the wolfdragon whimpered.

"Does he?" Another laugh. "He's bi. He could
pass for normal if he wanted. He'd be happy with a female. Can you say the
same, faggot? I think not."

"Lemme alone," he sobbed. "Go away."

"Go away? Ha! Where would I go? Where would I want to
go? I have everything I want right here."

He hugged himself, still crying without a sound. He tried to
rationalize what was happening. But it didn't make sense. How could anyone know
this much about him? He was quiet and shy, no one should know this much about
his private fears. He tried to deny the reality of what was happening yet
again, but the words died before even leaving his muzzle. Somehow, someway, this
was real.

"Yes. You're beginning to understand."

"No," he whispered. “I'm not."

He leapt to his paws and took off running away from the
creature. He didn't know where he could run to in the perpetual blackness, but
he needed to get away. He dashed in total silence: no air rushing past his
ears, blood rushing, and no panting—only silence. He didn't know how far he ran
in the unchanging landscape, but it wasn't far enough: he saw the glow of the
thing's red eyes in front of him.

He slid to a halt and stared in horror. The shadow creature
seemed even bigger than when he'd first encountered it, towering above him like
colossus. He saw now that it was bipedal, but couldn't make out any other
details in the murk. He backed away as the creature laughed and advanced on
him.

He ducked down and launched himself into the air, spreading
his wings and taking flight. He couldn't tell where he was going— in the gloom
it was impossible to tell directions. He just kept his wings pumping as he
looked back to see if he'd gotten away from the creature. He sighed in relief
as it was gone. That sense of calm lasted until he turned back to find the
thing directly in front of him. His wing beats faltered, and for the briefest
of seconds he was falling.

He encountered some sort of ground and collapsed on to his
claws and knees. He looked up to see the thing descending on him, and for the
first time saw the blacker outline of wings. A sense of despair began to fill
him as the creature settled in front of him. Looking at his own claws, the wolfdragon
saw the color seeping from them leaving his fur a pale gray. As he watched the
pigment leech from his fur, he understood it had begun at his wrist—and the
scar that remained there. The creature cackled.

"You can't get away from me little fool. There's
nowhere you can go that I can't follow."

Tears stung his eyes, dripping to the darkness under him.
Any that splashed against his fur took the gold from each strand. The fear rose
faster, and he slumped before a thought occurred to him.

"I am the Beast!" he half screamed, half sang.
"I am the hunter and the hunted at once!"

"You're right about that last bit," the thing
rumbled above. "But you're no beast.

"I am the beast here."

"I just need you gone..." he stammered,
desperately trying to finish the chorus.

"You still don't get it? 'Need you gone?' I will never
leave."

The wolfdragon looked up at the shadowy creature. The
mercurial figure had grown to massive size, towering over him with its wings
stretching to oblivion. The glowing eyes seemed brighter, but somehow
illuminated nothing beyond the fangs in its jaws. Something dripped from those
fangs, blood or saliva he couldn't tell. He just stared at his tormentor, the
tears flowing as waterfalls down his cheeks.

"Your stupid songs will not help you. Lies you tell
yourself won't protect you. I know the truth about you. You're weak,
frightened, and ignorant. You try to make friends, but you don't know how. Those
around you are just acquaintances, bound by common interests. They'll leave
when they see the real you."

He punched the darkness under him. Pain shot up his arm, the
only indication that his paw had connected with anything solid. There had to be
something he could do. He'd run through hundreds of situations similar to this
in his mind, written dozens of escapes, dozens of heroes triumphing.

"Lies."

"No."

"Fiction. And not even good ones at that. You're not
talented. You're just there to fill out the word count. In person? They don't
want to hurt your precious little feelings. All of them are better than
you."

"They... they like them... Why would they waste time on
them if they didn't?"

"Obligation."

"No."

"Tell yourself that. It won't make it true. You're
nothing compared to them. You'll never be anything. Just give up. Give
in."

As the echoes of the booming voice faded, he brought his
paws up to his eyes. The color was completely gone from them, the fur turned sickly
gray all the way up to his elbows and climbing. All feeling was gone from them:
he wiggled his fingers and although he watched them move, there was no
sensation that they had. He realized he should have been afraid, but all he
felt was a hollow detachment. What did it matter? The shadow thing was right.
He was nothing. Here he was, all alone at the mercy of this... thing. Where
were his friends? Where was his lover? His family? Why had they left him to
face this alone?

He fell to his stomach and rolled onto his back. It took him
a long time to register that his wings were as numb as his paws. He looked down
past his fat gut and saw that the fur on his legs had also been sapped of
color. The gray was beginning to envelop his groin. He felt a moment of regret
at that, but it faded quickly. What did it matter anyway? It was just as
useless as the rest of him. Useless, afraid, stupid, alone. Those were all he
was, and anything else was a lie to make himself feel better. He curled into a
ball again. It would be so easy to just give in.

Thump.

He blinked. What was that? He strained his ears, trying
desperately to place what he'd just heard. Heard. With a rush, it dawned
it was the first sound he'd heard since he'd found himself in this place. Thump.
He tried to place the noise, clinging to it like a drowning sailor to a board. Thump.
Thump. The sound grew louder as he focused, becoming less random and
settling into a rhythm. A familiar rhythm.

Lub, dub. Lub dub.

He looked down again, realizing that he could feel the
rhythm. It was coming from his own chest. He pulled his arms away and stared.
It was his heart. His heart was beating. He could almost see it pushing his
scales out with each beat. The foolishness of that thought floated up in his
mind, but he ignored it as he listened to his heart. After a long time he
became aware that his chest seemed to be glowing. Not much compared to the void
around him, but a little candle flame that seemed to grow a tiny bit brighter
with each thump in his chest. He sighed, and realized that he could hear himself
breathing. He reached a paw up and placed it against his chest. And he felt his
scales pressing against it.

As he watched, the color began to return— the gold seeping
back into his fur as the light passed through it. The wolfdragon stared. Above
him the shadow hissed.

"More lies! That changes nothing! You are still exactly
what you are!"

He considered the words as he watched the glow spread. It
was true, but what did it mean? He pondered that as the shadow continued
railing above him. It shouted, but he wasn't listening anymore. His heartbeat
drowned out the words and he watched the glow bring the color back to his body.
Then, with a flash of insight, he understood.

"I'm alive."

He rolled over onto his paws and knees. If he was alive, he
could fight. The glow had transferred its center from his chest to his right
paw. He pushed himself upright and balled his paw into a fist. The glow
intensified and spread.

It wasn't enough to illuminate far into the void, but it
went far enough. He stood there, naked but no longer afraid. His scales gleamed
in the light and his fur had returned to its full golden glory. His wings
stretched proudly behind him. The light spread. Not far, but far enough.

The shadow hissed and brought an arm up to cover its eyes.
As the light touched it, the creature came into focus. No longer was it a
massive thing that stretched to forever: it contracted until it was the same
size he was. It dropped its arm and glared at him: it was a wolfdragon. A
shadow wolfdragon, but a wolfdragon none the less. More in shape than he was,
more well-endowed, but nothing but a shadow of him.

They locked eyes for a long time before the shadow sneered.

"This changes nothing. I will always be here. You will
never overcome me."

"Perhaps," he said as he brought his paw up. The
light grew stronger in his grasp, shrinking the shadow even further.

"But I will never stop trying."