Flying is usually fun and exhilarating, when the skies are baby blue and the clouds are like giant, fluffy candy floss.  The gentle breeze flows past the solid white propellers.  But when the skies are full of thick grey fog, lightning bolts thrashing through the clouds and a storm brewing fun is replaced by fear.

Tom, his brother Bert and Captain Simon were deep in a storm.  The torrential rain lashed against the sky ship forcing it to rock turbulently from side to side.  Suddenly, lightning struck the fuselage of the sky ship frying  the main system and triggering the emergency alarm. The brothers, overcome with panic paused and stared at each other in shock.  Luckily the backup systems kicked in, silencing the alarm.  When they got out of the storm they knew they had to find a place to land as there was severe damage to the ship.

Its crimson red devilish eyes,

burning through me like laser beams.

Its flaring nostrils,

pumping out puffs of twilight fog.

Its razor-like teeth,

standing guard at the tip of the cave.

Its talons as tall as the Burj Khalifa,

clutching its blood-stained prey.

Its trident shaped tail,

twisting and turning violently.