For this weeks Flash! Friday we had to write a story about the following prompt:
It was so well planned. We quietly infiltrated the celebrations, one village at a time. After a century we were part of the tradition, a spectacle to impress the masses. They would watch us dancing down the street with screams of delight, a parade of colours and motion. No-one suspected our intention. Every year our paper puppets performed, we grew stronger. Every cheer fuelled our flames. Soon we would be ready to burst back into this world and claim it as our own. With only a handful of us we would no longer have to fear civil war. Every year would be the year of the Dragon.
The most insignificant of events foiled our plan. An angry child, jealous that his big brother was chosen to perform in the ceremony. He decapitated us with scissors, one by one, our screams lost in the crinkle of paper. He saved your whole species with a tantrum. It seems fitting somehow.