[h1] [center] [color=red]Dragon Grounds
Ground Zero, 11:00 A.M. Sept 4th.[/color][/center] [/h1]

[center] [img]http://data.whicdn.com/images/147991305/superthumb.jpg[/img][/center] 

[center] [i]sigh[/i] [/center]

[indent] The breath of annoyance that Chris exhaled was due to the whole ordeal of being allowed to train. Not only did he have to request the restraints of his ankle bracelet, but now he had be monitored by the guards as well. Despite the annoyances, Chris had to train. If he could get stronger it would be easier to prevent the things that happened the other day, the death of so many comrades, even if he didn't like them.

This time, Chris got innovated with hiding his shame. He took with him a towel to drape over him after he discarded his clothes neatly and ready to take back when he was done his two hours. Additionally, he brought a pair of duct tape to strap over his mouth to suppress his inevitable screaming.

Chris got onto the ground with a face of agony as his body slowly twisted and contorted to inhuman proportions, just as it did on the battlefield yesterday. Like before, five minutes were in place before Chris rose in full armor of scales and maw. With monstrous instincts kicking in Chris would dart off into the streets of Ground Zero, passing by its illusionary people with speeds of a full-sprint Cheetah. The monster would practice its reflexes and raw destructive power, leaping on and off of walls and tearing through smaller urban obstacles like fences without loosing momentum. More over, real or not, Chris was to make sure he wasn't to let go of his senses over his drive to attack the humans here. Even if they were fake and were to be killed by other students, this was more to further control whatever it was that was driving him mad with bloodlust, to get used to this urge to gut a man's throat. After several minutes of Chris rampaging through the streets, he would smash through a wall and into a diner.

Screams of a dozen of people, waiters and customers of the restaurant reacted in horror at the beast's appearance. It was as if this action triggered a feeding response, like when a lizard sees a moving insect, or a lion a helpless creature that strayed from its pack. While he had little trouble keeping his wits about before, now it was as if his progress leaped backwards. In a moment's notice Chris would pounce onto a man who was still frozen in terror, Letting out a roar before goring his neck open with a claw. His glowing red orbs spotted his prey fleeing to the door, and in response, Chris lifted his head to release a jet of flames. Horrible screams and cries of agony echoed from the diner as bodies writhed on the ground or tried to limp away from the disaster. The half-a-dozen burning victims pleaded for help reaching for anything that could put them out as they were soon charred to a crisp, flesh peeling off or shriveled so black it meshed with bone and dust. All the while, Chris was unmoved, his maw biting away at the flesh and tissue of the man he had tackled earlier. 

As the beast consumed flesh, Chris restored his awareness. Shocked by the gruesome aftermath, The beast would immediately retreated from the body. He would smash his head into the wall with protest, which of course did nothing but create a massive hole. He couldn't allow this to happen. He had to stay in control. 

Chris fled, exiting the diner before leaping on top of it, then leaping to the wall of a nearby apartment building, and began to scale the wall to the top. He continued to leap from roof to roof, his eyes looking this way and that before deciding to leap from a building and onto the street. He would then let loose a breathe of flames, spraying it through a single apartment's wall and watching it burn. Waited for the next breathe weapon to build up, Chris would stomp around, Tearing through walls and other city structures with maw, claw, and headbutting, testing the limits of his physical destructive proweness. After causing a small apartment to collapse over him and getting out without injury, he'd breathe flames onto the collapsed debris to destroy it further, then moved to the next. Through this loop of fire breathing and crushing or smashing objects, he would do his best to ignore the fleeing bystanders. Not so much avoiding hurting them as he was trying to avoid even acknowledging them, trying to see them as nothing more then ants and not worth his time. Getting into a state of mind similar to the battlefield, where he kept control by focusing on other things like raw destruction kept his primeval instincts under his control to some degree. 

When the two hours were up, Chris stood naked in the wake of his own destruction. In his human form, now free of the demons that dwell within his alter ego, Chris just stared at the remains of urban structure and the occasional corpse that got unfortunately caught up in the dragon's wake. His expression was mixed. Was he even stronger then before, was all of this pointless? Before he made his way to retrieve his clothes and exit Ground Zero with the permission of the guards, a single, terrible thought stuck on Chris's mind. The Dreadful possibility of that feeding response being triggered on a comrade. [/indent]