Like some sort of fantastic folklore parade came Trolls, Elves, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches and their black cats. A horde of Pixies, glowing like will-o’-the-wisps, and Imps; hopping, prancing, cackling, and swatting at the little sprites like they were trying to catch fireflies. Then came a monstrous Black Dragon, almost as huge as the jinni, with a pair of huge red glowing eyes. Halfway out of the fog, it let out a roar to rival the deafening thunder, and windows all along Main Street shattered and exploded from their frames. That’s when people started running.

As if the Dragon had bellowed a mating call, the full Sunset Falls Police Department came blaring down Main Street, including motorcycle cops in riot gear, two S.W.A.T. trucks, and a tank (they bought that after the T-Rex). Behind them came the police cars, stretching as far as you could see down Main Street; it looked like the townspeople were in a rush to find the last one. No sooner had they all screeched to a halt, than the tank fired, and caught the Dragon square in the chest.

The Dragon’s death roar made you feel almost sorry for it, but it shattered any remaining windows for two blocks in any direction. When it fell, it staggered against a five-story apartment building, which collapsed. Then, it fell right in the middle of the street, and on through, lodging in the subway system, just in time to collide with the seven fifteen. It would take two weeks to clear the rubble, after this was all through.

The Dragon falling caused even the procession of Imagined Nationals to scatter out of the street. The jinni, however, was not deterred. The dying Dragon had caught the jinni’s attention, and just as more lightning started to snake around its body, a S.W.A.T. man lined up his crosshairs on the ruby in the Arabian’s turban, and fired off a shot. The Arabian did a back flip, landing on his face. Before anyone could wonder what happened, a black energy flowed from under the Arabian’s head, and then shrouded him like a cocoon. As yellow lightning started to crackle around the cocoon, the jinni breathed, “No!” Even its whisper echoed like a distant thunder, warning of the storm about to rage.

The lightning was slow at first, rippling here and there across the face of the cocoon. Then, it started to pick up speed, shooting around one way, and then back the other. It got faster and faster, until the cocoon looked like it was completely made up of the yellow lightning, and then, all at once, it exploded upwards, widening as it went. Instead of uncurling, as the first jinni had done, this one’s features shot straight up out of the lightning. Faster than can be described, the torso, head, arms, and then hands grew out of the long, tapering bolt of lightning. It must have been three times the size of the first jinni, and other than the lightning, this new jinni looked just like the Arabian. If the first jinni sounded like the wrath of God, then this one sounded like God’s Dad, if He’d had one. “The Guardian of The Crimson Tear has fallen! After seven thousand years, I am free at long last!”

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Story and characters owned by Chris Bishop, copyright 1997, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022.