By Bien-Aime Wenda
Sleeping Giants


“Davis, wake up, we have a problem.”
The young reptilian elite prodded Davis, the older reptilian snoring besides him. The younger reptilian’s green eyes were widened in fear the entire time. They were both seated inside of the highly secured Central Intelligence Control Room in front of a dozen or so small monitors, switches and buttons. It was only the elites and their families who had regular access to the dome-shaped underground facility.
Davis stirred and mumbled unintelligibly as the younger reptile continued with his rapid jabs. A river of drool slithered its way down Davis’ bumpy emerald arm, onto a growing pool of saliva assembling right between the two creatures, on top of the metal desk.
“Biscuits? No biscuits today, mum.” Davis smacked his lips before continuing to mumble in his sleeping state.
The younger reptilian gave Davis a sharp elbow to the ribs. “Wake up, you fool!” He bellowed irritably.
“I called Bingo!” Davis jumped up clumsily in a state of disarray, his arms flailing in every direction, causing an empty tea mug to come to a crash between them.
“You incompetent idiot! Have someone summon my father on the video monitor at once! Tell him, that THEY have awakened!” He exclaimed impatiently, a hint of fear exposed between his commands.
“Who? Who has awakened, sire?” Davis queried.
The younger reptilian flapped both arms as he tried explaining in alarm. “The sleeping giants! The Negus! The paradigm shift! One by one they’re all awakening!”
“The Negus? But—but—they should still be combating against one another about frivolous so-and-so’s, race, religion, orientation and other so-and-and so’s? Right, Argon? Argon?” The older reptilian quizzed as he stood eye to eye from Argon, the smell of mice and American blueberry biscuits permeating the close quarters between them. Their noses touched as Davis anticipated an answer. Argon remained silent as his body began to tremor.
Instead of Argon’s usual hurling of obscenities and impatience towards the older creature, the younger reptilian crumpled to the ground like limp noodles, not caring two bits that he had landed right on top of the sharp shattered mug. He could not feel an ounce of the physical pain anyway.
Argon, tilted his scaly chin towards the ceiling as he cried, “We’re through! We’re through! It’s all over! They’ve awakened! We’re all bloody throooough!”


Copyright © 2016 By Jasmine D. Rivers.
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without expressed and written permission from this site's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to AJ Writer with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Please contact for more information.

No comments

Post a Comment