This story is an entry to 
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Shiro paid the street vendor for his lemonade, unfazed by her curious glances to the glove on his hand. Any other day, he would have answered the unspoken questions of the smiling woman with a light quip. A bit of banter went miles in getting people to overlook his many...eccentricities.
Today though, he couldn't muster anything witty. Throngs of people were milling about the square, mindless to those who were in a hurry. His quick errand run had become a snail-paced slog behind wandering looky-loos. The brown jacket he wore was sodden thanks to the blistering bake of the summer sun. He'd give anything to shed his sweaty layers but the memories of what had happened the last time...
Compounding his exhaustion were his ever-present traveling companions. Their desperation for his attention had begun fraying his nerves since he left home. Ignoring their antics and way they clung to him had worn his energy to a hair's breadth. Sheer obstinance was all that kept him from screaming at them in the middle of the crowd.
Shuffling aside to savor the crisp drink in the shade of the over-sized umbrella, Shiro felt something crunch beneath his heel. Dammit!Whatever he had broken, it sounded expensive.
Behind him a voice shrilled, "You're paying for that!"
Shoulders slumping as he fingered his wallet, he turned. "Sorry! I didn't know...", his voice choked to a halt. Not because the person was intimidating. The blonde slip of a girl glaring daggers at him wouldn't have been able to frighten a hamster. Nor was it due to her beauty, as she had been graced with an unfortunate nose.
It was the reaction of his companions that stole his breath.
Gone were the shadowy undulations and static flickerings who had doggedly followed Shiro since he was a child. What remained were swirling vortices of crimson and pitch. Amorphous, they writhed. They wailed. The air thickened with the depth of their need.
Without warning, unctuous tendrils sprang. Shiro cried out but it was too late. Oozing with hunger, his companions snaked to envelop the girl. Her wide hazel orbs rolled to the heavens before she collapsed to the ground.
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Shiro had precious few seconds before all was over. He removed the glove from his right hand, and the consternation of the crowd gathered around became evident in the sighs that followed. Shiro allowed his mind to digress for a moment, and he wondered, how could the crowd find his hand perturbing while not those hideous creatures ready to devour a maiden. Though, for the onlookers, the content of the glove was no less horrendous.
Shiro’s scaly arm stood in stark contrast to the rest of his skin and appearance. The claws were sharp and long enough to slit a human torso with absolute ease. But there was something else which halted even his slithering companions in their track. The rings – the emerald, ruby, diamond and sapphire – each on each finger had attracted their attention. The stones were glowing abnormally bright, and people had to cup their eyes to be able to see. Any other day, Shiro would have been happy that it was keeping the attention away from his deformed and cursed arm.
“Move no further, Dugglins, or thy demise will be thy own implore,” Shiro announced. Dugglins were the mythical plant creatures which Shiro’s father had called upon to protect him. They were much like his bodyguards with an unwarranted dose of attitude. Shiro’s entire experience was due to the Dugglins believing that the girl had wronged Shiro and that they had to avenge him to gain his approval.
The eerie pause was reminiscent of a volcano frozen just after the initial burst. And as luck would have it, the girl coming back to her senses and her hum broke the impasse. The Dugglins moved towards her. Shiro had no other option. He plunged over the girl and clawed each one with the rings. The Dugglins’ unctuous tendrils withered and snapped, leaving their mere bodies motionless.
Shiro was panting with the Dugglins in front of him and the girl attempting to sit behind him. He had saved the day like so many times before.
Then the Dugglins shape-shifted and come back to their human form, Shiro’s scales faded, and claws retracted, the rings melted and became ointment around his fingers, but the crowd remained bl**dy damn the same, staring for no particular reason.
“Muahahahaha,” Shiro laughed at what was going on in his mind. His hyperactive mind had made a fairy tale out of a simple situation. His uncouth companions were attempting to square-off with a damsel who had dared to ask Shiro to pay.
Shiro got the men to back-off with his blistered hand, courtesy of the hot coffee from the previous evening. He then made a valiant effort to remove his purse with two fingers. Shiro then handed over the money to the girl who was still finding her composure from having slipped and hit her head.
“Thank you,” she said, “visit again.”
“Yes, only if you want to face the Dugglins,” Shiro said and laughed.
The girl stood confused.
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