The Chinese Firebolt stands still eyeing up its prey.

The deafening eyes stare into the souls of innocent people.

The whipping tail moves like the spin setting on a washing machine.

Its unstitched skin bubbled at the sight of food.

It opens, its closed mouth gobbling up everything, leaving only bones.

The Chinese Firebolts claws, dig into every nook and cranny of my body.

The leathery wings support it, in its stance on the top of the mountain.

The dragon leaves, leaving only the skeletons of innocent souls.