The writings that follow were found in an ancient, leather-bound book. It is slightly oversized, and the manner of inscribing seems archaic. Although no dates are given, it is assumed this is a relic from over a thousand years ago. After being studied and declassified, we now present these writings to the public, in their entirety. 

I doubt very much that this will ever find its way into anyone's hands, but something is needed to pass the time. We are all prisoners in life. However, I am a prisoner of man. I sit here in the meager cage I have been provided with as a home, and wait to die. I was captured and sentenced to "scientific study" which, so far, has consisted of nothing more than poking me and nodding, and then death. There are many factors I could blame my predicament on. In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have gorged myself on those Imperial Guards. 

It's a bit too late for "should haves", however. Maybe it not a simple task of passing the time, I wonder. A part of me hopes that my life, recorded on these pages, finds its way to someone capable of understanding, of caring. Whether it be noble dragon, or wretched (yet delicious) human, I long for this book's discovery. Like all living things, I cling to my life in all situations, hoping that my legacy, however unimpressive it may be, lives on. 

The first step in writing about my life is, I suppose, describing myself. I, as you may or may not know, am a dragoness: a female dragon, for any ignorant human that might chance upon this. While not of the slenderest build, I am of about average size for one of my species (the exact measurement eludes me, not that it matters, for my methods differ from a human's method of size determination). I have hypnotically beautiful blue eyes, I've been told, and my body is a light green, with an almost blue tint to it. Be you a human, I doubt my appearance impresses you much. Then again, I never claimed to expect admiration from my meals. I also realize that dragons are held in such high contempt because of their penchant for devouring any meaty thing that moves. Even though I am, evidently, a barbaric, monstrous creature with an insatiable appetite for living creatures, I will decline to mention the cows, chickens, pigs, and other countless living creatures the humans slaughter and consume on a daily basis. Far be it from me… 

As I may or may not have already mentioned, this is simply a recording of my life, and I don't intend for this to be a way of reconciling with the humans that now hold my life in their hands. Though I should include all the details, or none at all. While most dragons eat to survive, there is another oddity driving myself to feast. I sincerely doubt that any human can relate to such a thing, but it is true, nonetheless. I call myself an "eatophile", after a brief study of the Latin language. I didn't get much, though I do know, as you should, the meaning of "phile." I suppose you can work the rest out from there, but I always overestimate the limited intelligence of man, so I may as well elaborate. 

To put it bluntly, I am sexually aroused by the act, and even the thought, of devouring a living creature. Consuming my prey is not only a means of surviving, but an act of deepest pleasure. Again, I will not dwell on this, for I honestly doubt any humans could even fathom what I'm speaking of. It is my theory that a "prey race", such as humankind, is incapable of producing "eatophiles". However, the fact remains that I am such a creature, and however inconsequential this information may prove, I feel it is necessary to record here. 

My life, while in no way glamorous, is rather long and complicated. I take small comfort in knowing that some of you may even be able to relate to my trials and tribulations, as you will find that life, no matter what creature partakes in it, is often not too different. I considered many formats for this last recording of my life, and settled upon the time-honored tradition of simply writing a story. And, like all stories, I believe this is best told from the beginning… 

As a young dragoness, I lived with my mother, father, and aunt, in the area of the Isindien Mountains, a quaint little range of land that suited my fellow dragons just fine. We were well out of the way of the nearest human empire (and I use the term loosely, for it was barely a large village), and we kept to ourselves. Life was always great, despite the daily schooling and chores that needed doing. There was always something to cheer us up, and we led the typical, light-hearted childhood. 

Of course, there were always bullies. Even as a young hatchling of barely fifty years of age, I was the butt of many jokes about my weight. I tended to go overboard whenever beef or steak was served which, unfortunately, was often. I think my "eatophilia" may have started at this point, or may have even caused my constant eating. In any case, it was pretty obvious: I was the fat kid. I had few friends of my own sex, and the boys wouldn't even look at me. Pompous bastards. However, I digress… 

My train of thought leads me to recall my first real relationship. A young dragon, handsome yet unpopular for some reason, was the first one I can remember ever actually talking and doing things with me. Derekin was his name, I believe. My entire life, I have never forgotten that day, under the tree on the outskirts of the field, where he joined me near the end of lunch. I laugh as I recall myself not even responding to his voice, as I automatically assumed if a male was speaking, it wasn't to me. It finally dawned on me, however, that he was asking if he could join me. Stunned and silent, I nodded. Needless to say, we became best friends. Oh, Derekin… 

Oh, Derekin. Oh, the experiences. I suppose I may as well elaborate on my first evocative experience, which is probably what made me an "eatophile" and made me who I am. I am thankful that this cherished, yet troubling, scene was not lost in the tsunami of my memories. Quite the contrary; I remember it as if I am constantly reliving it. It was a sunny day, and Derekin and I had snuck off to be alone, far into the surrounding forest. We happened upon a clearing, and paused there to make our mischief. 

Oh, Derekin… I have to admit it was extremely awkward at first. A few embarrassed pleasantries were all we could muster for what seemed like an eternity. With a wily smile, I suggested we play "Food Chain". I pause here to realize that any human that may find this will be puzzled. It is a game where one chases the other and, once caught, pretends to devour his or her "prey." It is a childhood game that is supposedly tolerated by the adults, for it teaches basic hunting skills. Just think of a morbid version of "Tag", and you've got the idea. 

In all honesty, Derekin wasn't very into the game of "Food Chain", but it was practically what I lived for at that age. Hard to describe, you understand. The thrill of the chase and the glory of a captured meal. Quite a rush, you can imagine. Well, at least I assume you can imagine. In any case, I believe any being with an IQ higher than that of a block of wood can see what I'm leading up to. Oh, Derekin… 

It was sunny. Bright and warm. Perfect weather. And there stood Derekin, cute in his nervous, fidgety way. I could swear the sun reflected brilliantly off his body, though it may have been a trick of the eyes. I did my best to look attractive, batting my eyes and smiling at him. Men, unfortunately, are impossible to read. For all I knew, he thought I was a horny freak. I didn't care, though. I wanted this time to be the best ever. I had played "Food Chain" innumerable times, but only once before with Derekin, a few days after I met him. He quit about 30 seconds into it, and claimed he wouldn't do it again. "There's no point" and "this is stupid". Men… Derekin… 

"This is pointless, Erin," he said. Not exactly the line I'd expected to start off a perfect afternoon. 

"Just give it a chance, Derry. It's lots of fun, and all the young dragons play it when they're in love, so-" 

"Love?" he interrupted, even more hastily than I would have expected. I could swear I went from light green to bright red. 

"Well…that's what they say, anyway. I just think it's fun, that's all. I…I really like you, Derry. Would you just…humor me?" I replied, eyes glued to the ground in front of me. After a pause, which I thought indicated his disinterest, he responded. 

"I like you too, Erin. A lot. I just thought you were playing around with me, leading me on," he began, as if I was capable of leading any sane dragon on with my appearance, "and I had no idea how you really felt. I suppose I could give it another go, if you want to," 

"Great! Now…get goin'! You're only getting a 5-second head start this time!" I warned him, giving him a toothy grin. Before I could even finish, he jogged off in the opposite direction. 

I gave chase immediately, and was already starting to gain on him. I was so deluded as a child, as I thought I was actually in better shape than I was, and was able to run faster than him. Looking back, it's fairly obvious he had no intentions of escaping in the first place. He did, however, give quite a tour of the woods. I'd guess it took about fifteen minutes of running at near top-speed to catch him. Oddly enough, he was (pretending to be) winded as I turned a corner. There was my deliciously beautiful little friend, leaning against a tree, a mischievous smirk on his face. I stopped. 

"I couldn't possibly go a step further, Erin. You sure are persistent," he began. I gave him my trademark toothy grin and advanced, not intending to let up on the game any time soon. Even as I was within leaping distance, he didn't budge. I had him. Of course, I had him all along, but that's not the point. When I had come to a distance at which I was certain I could subdue him in a flash, I reared back and my grin widened. With a short, yet labored leap, I swept him off his feet. Literally. Triumphant, atop my prey, I gazed down longingly at him. Oh, Derekin… 

What came next was one of those imminently awkward, yet ultimately fulfilling, experiences that all young ones go through. The only sounds were the chirps of arguing birds above, and the ephemeral sound of the wind playing music with the grass. All that silent tranquility, and at the center, the still-life of myself, seated atop that handsome creature. We stared at each other. For how long, I couldn't say. Time stopped. The emotions took turns in my head and in my heart, swirling about as if being picked randomly from a hat. The exhilaration gave way to happiness, which faded into peaceful calm, which was then overtaken by confused awkwardness, which then melted into pure embarrassment. We both realized we were gazing at each other like idiots, and in one of those moments that you're forced to take against your common sense, yet never seem to regret, I scooted back a little and started. 

It was something that denied definition, seemed to require its own unique emotion. To this day, I find it difficult to describe exactly what it's like to eat, to swallow, to consume, to devour a living creature, especially one you're fond of. Before I knew what I was doing, half of Derekin's tail was in my mouth, tickling my throat. The burning embarrassment and peculiarity of the situation caused me to race forward. I so wanted to cherish that forever, but I was practically a back-seat driver to my own hungry instincts. I let it go. And so did he. 

By the time I had his powerful legs in my throat, his eyes had closed, and his face took on the appearance of a dreaming child, experiencing that which is never meant to be real. After that, it was basically a flavorful blur. My normal senses faded away, only to be replaced by heightened states of awareness, each one teasing and satiating me beyond what I ever had thought possible. As I said, it is difficult to describe the experience of devouring another creature, but it is an experience I will hold as the meaning of my life. 

Derekin had the faint flavor of spiced meat. Finely toned and firm, yet sweeter and more mouth-watering than the best steaks my aunt Soldrinae had ever prepared. I was vaguely aware of the faint movements of his body against my voracious appetite, which encompassed him in many ways. It was as if he was struggling to escape, still caught up in the game. Though his faint twitches were so weak, it was obvious he wouldn't give this up for anything. He was the helpless prey, nothing more than food for the victorious predator, and he was loving every minute of it. 

As my drooling lips closed around his chest, I idly wondered if this was what making love was like. I hoped so. As I realized that the home stretch was approaching, I prepared myself. I turned gently, so as not to disturb my gorgeous, delicious meal, and reclined back in a nearby patch of grass. Reaching up to stroke Derekin's muzzle, muttered something so faint that I couldn't be sure he had spoken at all. I managed to smile around his body, and continued the favor I was doing him. Ever so delicately, I caressed his arms, then lay them at his side, and let him slide into my waiting maw up to his neck. One of my last thoughts before the ordeal was over, I remember distinctly, that no matter what making love was like, it had nothin' on this. 

And just as unexpectedly as it hard started, it was over. I felt fuller, both in body and in heart, than I had ever felt in my life, yet it was a double-edged blade. It also felt as if the point of my entire existence was ripped away from me. My fears were obliterated, thankfully, as I saw his smile disappear into my maw. With a final sensuous gulp, I sent my beautiful boy to my waiting stomach. My head fell back against the grass, and the only way I could tell how I looked was by feeling and prodding my distended belly with my tired hands. 

It was another one of those moments that denied expression through words alone. The gentle chirps of birds, now softer, seemed to be commenting on me, on the hulking dragon lounging in their forest, massaging and cradling her belly like a mother with child. I felt a few faint movements from within, which gave me an excitement that almost overcame me. The graceful struggles of my first love, which I could feel from what seemed like every direction, gave me more pleasure than I thought possible. It was as if he were teasing me from the inside, giving me a last gift to remember him by. I loathed him and loved him for teasing me so. 

Then, of course, reality always sets in. I was alone in a forest clearing, rather far from home, with a young dragon curled up in my belly. I chuckled laboriously, wondering how I would explain this one to the others. "He slipped and fell into my mouth" didn't seem like an appropriate excuse. I realized that I was killing the mood by thinking of the repercussions, so I resigned myself to lie there in the clearing, to fall asleep with my love, one inside the other. I rocked Derekin to sleep in my stomach, and he did the same for me from within. I drifted off to sleep with the same final smile I had seen on Derekin's face. 

Oh, Derekin… 

Ironically, I wasn't chastised at all. In fact, my aunt took me aside and told me she did the same thing, only she was a little older than me when she had first played "Food Chain" with her best friend. She was a naughty dragoness, my aunt. Good thing my parents didn't know all the things she had done, or…let's just say she wouldn't be living with us. 

It was the day after, and that's when I learned about some peculiar little power. I was overjoyed when my father explained the "regeneration" process. Even though I had the best experience of my life, I was saddened by the thought that Derekin was gone forever, his life and love having disappeared into my greedy stomach. There was a time limit on this thing, but it wasn't very strict. I still had plenty of time, so my father took the time to give me the entire lesson. 

Once he was finished, I wandered out to the clearing again. I had told my father I wanted to try it for myself, and would let him know how it went. Really, I was just hoping to see Derekin again, before he returned. It took about four tries, but I finally managed to do what my father had instructed. "Picture Derekin in front of you, as if he had never left. What you may not realize is that his essence is floating around inside of you. It's hard to explain without sounding mundane, but the way I visualize the reformation, is that your breath is paint. Blow his essence from within yourself to the outside world, 'painting' the form of Derekin. As long as you have the basic idea, you should be able to get it to work." I did so. And, on the fourth try, there was Derekin, as if he had never left. He was grinning. So was I. Our first conversation wasn't exactly what I had expected, but it worked well enough. 

"Wanna do that again?" I asked, batting my eyes. 

"I thought you'd never ask," he replied, his voice confident and full of admiration. 

And so, like the innumerable times after that, I had Derekin for dinner. 

Oh, Derekin…