The Green Omen

It seemed like many moments later before Jason's feet touched solid ground. He looked around, sword drawn and ready, and saw nothing but black mist surrounding him.

Nevertheless, Jason told himself to stay alert. He crouched low and and started walking through the thickening mist, everystep producing not a sound.

Suddenly, he felt a cold vice-like grip clamp onto his right ankle. He struggled but whatever that held him was extremely strong. It yanked, and Jason fell harshly. His sword flew out of his hands and fell soundlessly a few feet behind him.

"Hello, Jason Pendragon."

The thick voice of Black Magic filled whatever environment Jason was in. He appeared before Jason, a black shadow materialising from the ground.

"Release me!" spat Jason.

Black Magic shook his head and said, "It isn't me who is holding you."

He pointed to Jason's foot, and the dragon slayer saw that what was holding him was actually a rotten and decaying hand. He did his best not to wretch.

"Now watch as I perform my magic!" said the shadow goblin, who raised his hands into the air; this motion seemed to thicken the mist further.

The decayed hand shivered, sending shivers up Jason's spine, and from the mist a skeleton appeared, its arms attatched to the hand. Its empty sockets were glowing a horrid red.

"Fireball!"

A ball of fire shot through the black mist, whipping it up with its speed. It crashed into the zombie, and the undead creature released its hold.

"Damn it! Where did that come from?" roared Black Magic.

Jason scrambled to his sword, but again fell as the zombie caught his lower tigh. Angry, Jason kicked back hard. But the undead creature couldn't feel pain.

Flashes of light shot through the darkness a little far back from Jason. He turned his head and saw that Elfin was throwing Instanlite at Black Magic. The artefact burst into a halo of blinding light when it breaks. Elfin had a limited amount of it.

Jason then realised his captor was not moving. Black Magic was too distracted to give it further orders.

"Elfin, throw an Instanlite here!" he cried out. Elfin spotted him, down and on his belly, and did as he was told. Jason closed his eyes.

A bright light engulfed the whole place, and the zombie seemed to groan, yet no sound came from it as it had no vocal chords. Indeed, light was its natural foe. The undead's body broke into pieces. Then fragments. Then dust.

"ARGHHH!" a blood-curdling scream erupted, and Jason, whose eyes were still closed, stuffed a finger into each of his ears.

When Jason opened his eyes, the mist was gone, Black Magic was gone. They were back in the desert. A green glow was cast onto the sand, and he looked up into the sky.

The shape of a hand, bathed in green light, very much like the undead's, was splayed above him. Jason found his breathing difficult. Then, slowly, one by one the fingers closed. The index, the middle, the ring, the smallest, the thumb...

At last it was gone. The green hand burned away. Jason turned to look at Elfin.

"What the heck was that?" he asked quietly, as if his voice might evoke a sand worm attack.

"An omen," whispered Elfin in the same way. "An omen of disaster..."