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SUMMARY: This is the edited version, which should now be a lot clearer. Thanks to Kater for the helpful edit.

Chapter 8

Snow fell softly outside the Grayson home. It was late fall and the trees were bare in preparation for their long winter sleep. The snow fell as big billowy flakes, which swirled aimlessly in the vague cold winds of the early evening and muffled the sounds of the world. A fat gray squirrel with long ear tuffs hung upside down on the maple tree closest to the front living room window. The chubby creature was giving the Grayson's Siamese cat an ear full for the trouble he had caused this summer. The cat, of course, just yawned and sank back down on the radiator cover to soak up the warmth that would become a staple of his winter nights.
Over the fireplace opposite the window was a large oil painting of a blue dragon in the midst of a ferocious battle with a knight bearing an enchanted sword. Nigel had done this painting several years ago for the cover of a best selling fantasy book, but the subject also had meaning for him on a personal level. The battle represented the struggle he had gone through to get to this point in life. All the people who told him that there was no money in being a fantasy artist, that he should just leave it as a hobby, were bundled up in the form of a giant dragon. Nigel was the knight who would defeat the dragon in the end. He had won a few genre awards since then and was a fan favorite at fantasy conventions.
Upstairs in the bedroom Nigel and his wife Hanna lay in bed twinned together, yet perfectly comfortable. However, Nigel was beginning to stir from his slumber as his subconscious worked on deadlines for several covers he was contracted to do. Normally, he was not bothered by these time limits, but he had recently started a project solely for himself, which was nagging at the back of his mind. At forty-seven, Nigel felt he should have learned by now how to deal with such pressures. Although the recurring nightmare of being chased by a dark hungering beast, which turned out to only be his fears, did not bother him now, Nigel still managed a convincing nightmare or two. An active imagination found very creative ways of wrapping life's problems into a dream.
Stirring a little more, Nigel managed to shake the worry without waking his wife and fell back into a deeper slumber. The sound of massive wings flapping in the deep darkness of his sleep drew him from slumber again, but when he opened his eyes there was only darkness. The wings continued to agitate the void. They seemed to be circling Nigel. Suddenly the rhythmic sound faded away as if the creature were gaining altitude behind him but something in his soul told Nigel this was not the end. For several minutes he strained his senses for any sign of the hidden beast. A faint whistling sound caused him to turn around in the darkness. The sound increased in pitch and volume as if some massive object were streaking toward him at incredible speeds.
As if the void were being torn, a glowing red haze became visible in front of Nigel. Changing shape continuously, like a cloud being ripped apart by powerful winds, the haze rapidly grew in size until he realized that the haze was fire curling off the body of a massive dragon.