The door to the girl's bathroom slammed behind Sylvia, but she didn't notice. Sylvia was only half aware that she was hyperventilating.

Her skin was burning, itching, as glimmering silver-blue scales burned their way up through her skin. She fell to her knees on the cold tiles, her screams echoing around the empty stalls.

The ceiling was shrinking, one portion of her brain that wasn't panicking noticed idly. Her sight became desaturated and sharper, static in the corners of her vision. In a moment, her head was pressed against the moldy plaster roof, She felt it crack against the widened surface of the top of her head, crumbling over her sideways-facing eyes.

The room had constricted around her. There was no room, her claws cracked the tiles, her wings pressed against the walls, her neck was forced downward. She still couldn't get out. She was still trapped. She needed out.

With a sudden lurch, she threw herself against the wall and it crumbled like clay against her thrashing. Dust and debris rained down around her. Her keen hearing heard someone in the distance scream. It didn't matter, because she was out.

The sky was open, and her instincts were all she heard as she took off, just like sprinting away but up, flapping furiously against the resisting air beneath her wings. Her tail swung to balance her, and getting away was so easy. She was free. She felt like nothing would ever contain her again.

Sylvia swung around and looked back one more time, seeing all the tiny people, students, classmates, standing at the edge of the playground in silent shock as a dragon crashed out of the building and flew away. She could see Grace standing there, phone to her ear away from the crowd, simply watching. She couldn't see Atlan.

Sylvia looked away. The buildings below her grew smaller and smaller as she flew higher and higher, but the height didn't scare her. People pulled their cars over to the side of the road, peering up at her with their hands shielding their eyes from the sun. a flock of birds let out panicked squaks, rerouting around her, like tuna evading a shark.

That's right. She was the predator up here. Nothing could hurt her here. This is where she was meant to be. Her heart sang, and she let out a roar of joy.

Suburbs became farmland below her, cows bolting at her presence and grain fields whispering under her wings when she skimmed low near the paddocks. She felt alive.

The only sound was the wind whispering over her ears and the steady beat of her wings. She could hear the sound of her heart, thump-thump-thumping in her chest, now with excitement instead of fear. She felt like she had been asleep her whole life, and had only now just woken up.

Sylvia kept flying, not really knowing where other than away, before she started to realize something was wrong. Her heart thumping was getting louder, steadily, and in a moment her keen hearing realized it wasn't the sound of her heart at all.

Sylvia twisted her head around just as the sound reached its peak, spinning blades whipping up wind and throwing her flight out of balance.

Oh no....

RATT-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-TA-

The helicopter's machine guns burst to life, and Sylvia flapped desperately to the side to avoid the onslaught of bullets. Sylvia was terrified. Why were they shooting at her??

She broke into a dive and flapped as hard as she could, low to the paddocks and zig-zagging to make herself a harder target. The massive black military helicopter simply followed, guns trained towards her. Its blades sent waves of wind to flatten the short grasses beneath and churn up soil. Sylvia flapped harder.

Should she try to transform back into a human? Hide in the paddock? No, there was no cover anywhere as far as she could see, and they might still shoot at her even while she was human. Besides, she wasn't even sure how to turn back. Last time, she had Grace there to help, knowing how to change human before even researching what Sylvia was. Sylvia wished Grace was there, Grace would know what to do.

But Grace wasn't here right now. So Sylvia did the only thing left for her to do. She tensed the muscles in her wings and extended her stroke, flapping even harder.

The speed that Sylvia took off at was one she never imagined she could reach. Sylvia reeled in surprise as she left the helicopter in the dust, dirt and ground streaming past below her. This was amazing!!

Her joy was short-lived as ever so slowly, the helicopter was gaining on her. Its blades blurred together faster and faster, and it tilted forward after her. It was climbing, too, getting above her and stopping her from escaping into the clouds. Sylvia's breath came faster and faster in her enlarged lungs. She couldn't keep this speed up much longer!

She could hear the machine guns loading again, ready to fire. Sylvia wanted to duck to the side but it was so close behind her she would never escape it.

RATTA-TAT-TA-TA-

The guns fired to life again and Sylvia dived as low as she could, trying to escape the bullets. But suddenly, she swooped too low, and as her wings and tail caught on the ground. Her wings and tail brushed the ground and knocked her off course, and her wings caught under her and she rolled the rest of the way to the ground.

With the amount of speed Sylvia was going at, she rolled for a fair distance before finally coming to a stop, dazed. It took a few attempts to stand, gathering her talons under her and folding up her wings. She almost immediately fell down again, the world spinning violently. Every part of her ached, her shiny scales buffed and covered in dust, sticks and grass caught in clumps of her mane. She shook herself, but her vision was taking too long to stop spinning. Something was wrong.

A spot on her back leg was hurting more than anything else, and she twisted her head around to look.

There on her flank was a small dart, sticking out from between her scales. They weren't shooting bullets at her. The helicopter people didn't want to kill her. They wanted to catch her!

She had to get out of here!

She forced herself to her feet and flapped hard, but the world was still spinning and she just kilted over again. It was hard enough to just stay on her feet, let alone fly.

She felt terrified as the helicopter touched down nearby.

There were people stepping out of it, dressed in black HAZMAT suits and black helmets that entirely covered their heads. Four of them were carrying a giant net between them, one that could cover a dragon her size. This was not good.

Sylvia made one last desperate attempt to run away, her wings flapping uselessly and her talons scrambling for purchase in the loose soil. She almost hit one of the people with her lashing tail before they ducked, and by the time she thought that she could probably fight her way out of here, they had thrown the net and she was trapped under the heavy wire.

Sylvia roared with all her might, struggling, but she was pinned fast. There was nothing she could do. What did they want with her??

Another black-clad person jumped out of the helicopter, carrying a heavy gun-like contraption. Sylvia struggled harder as they started walking in her direction, moving slowly from the weight of the gun.

They pumped the massive forestock, and a humongous needle slid out the barrel.

Oh HECK no!! Sylvia thought desperately, thrashing harder. She had no idea what was in the body of the gun, they could be trying to do anything to her!

But there was nothing that she could do, and as hard as she struggled she couldn't escape the net, or the needle coming closer, closer, closer.

Sylvia let out a scream as the end of the needle punctured the soft scales behind her shoulder. The person pulled the trigger and she felt a chill run all the way from her shoulder to her skull and tail.

The world was starting to blur at the edges, the sound of the people yelling becoming indistinct, mixing with the chopping sound of the helicopter blades starting up again. Gray was filling the edges of her vision, and the muscles in her limbs weren't listening to her anymore.

The net was lifted away, but Sylvia could barely attempt to heave herself away at all. She felt like she should be more scared, but the pain was fading away, and that was good. That was better. Maybe things were okay.

More people were approaching, carrying straps for her snout and legs and wings, but to her it looked like they were approaching from the end of a dark tunnel. The black of their suits matched the black crowding into her vision, and her sight faded away to nothing.

And so did everything else.