Weird Tales of Dragon Valley, Oregon

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Morgan would know considering he grew up there. You see Dragons, Drakes, Wyrms, and Wyverns were a relatively new feature in his home town of Heck, Oregon, and a quite odd one as well. It had just been his luck that he had been one of the first ones to see them.

He had been exploring the forest that grew behind his home, and had just taken a break to pick a up stick to play with. At first he didn't see it, only a blur hidden behind some trees, standing on its hind legs, sitting in the breeze. Of course that first sighting being on the day after Halloween didn't help either. Maybe he had just seen another kid, or maybe an adult, going by the size of it, refusing to let Spooky day die. Yet, when it turned, its wounded face looked so unflinchingly real. Its lustrous black scales carved away in blood red gashes that seemed to be carved by its own four claws. Its large yellow eyes sparkled with eldritch intellect that for, all intents and purposes, told of its hunger.

For a moment it just held his gaze, putting such an immense fear in him that he couldn't help but run with all his strength. It quickly dropped down on all fours, and began to chase, and he began to squeeze out more speed than he ever thought possible. His mind went blank and what happened next he could barely remember. He just knew that its gapping, gnarled tooth, sickly green slathering maw was anything but natural. He had just barely managed to escape, a broken branch and a wicked scar on his left calf being the only indication that anything had happened at all. At first no one believed him when he'd come running back home that day his jeans a bloody mess.

"Oh you were just seeing things honey," his mother chortled between sobs "I knew Mason's dog should have been put down, that mongrel."

Of course as always she'd left no room for even a hint of an argument, shutting down every attempt he'd even tried to make. Only after weeks of begging was Missy the Black Labrador spared, she had to be given up for adoption, but she had been spared nonetheless. It was small victory, but one he cherished. His Grandfather had been no better on that front. Always curt, and to the point, he'd also refused to give Morgan the time of day. He barely even acknowledged the boy's story. In fact the only utterance he received from the small man was a,

"Uh huh, good one kid."

He was most definitely his mother's father alright. Though in some way's he understood them, they were an interesting pair, they had both lost so much, to much in fact. As he would later come to describe them a neurotic widow, and a stoic widower, with the world on their shoulders. He had basically raised himself, though they were always there when he needed them.

For the next six years that was exactly how it had stayed, he had been bitten by a dog, an ugly large dog, but just a dog, and what he had saw was just the delusions of ten-year-old hopped up on Halloween candies. Until it happened again, and this time was with a kid that wasn't quite as athletic. They found him mauled, just behind his house next to some of his favorite toys. His mother had been inconsolable, and his father equally as devastated. The kid was lucky to be alive, many chalked it up to a bear, or a cougar, but Morgan he knew better, his leg had began throbbing that same morning, and the pain that festered within that scar only became more and more pronounced, until one day, about a week later, it just stopped.

That's when he knew something within him had changed. He had always been an active kid, a bit pudgy maybe, but always ready to run a mile, this, however was something far cooler. At first the change was gradual he could run farther, lift heavier weights, suddenly he was the top of his class in terms of athletics. He could now bring in all the groceries in at once, without even needing to use that closet cart. But the thing that gave him the most pause was the fact that he could just think about moving something and it would happen. He was telekinetic, if a Fruugal search was to be believed.

He had actually gotten honest to gosh superpowers, something in that sickly Dragon's bite had changed him forever. And he couldn't wait to tell his friends.