Not really expecting a point for this one, but it was fun to write.
Saint Has a Nightmare
Saint strode through the darkness. The Dragon loomed before him, and he drew his sword, a beacon in the void.
"I have it, Dragon! The weapon you cannot name, that which destroys you from the inside, the ultimate failsafe!" He raised his sword. "O tool of power," he shouted, "I invoke you that the beast may be slain!" He swept the sword's point toward his enemy. "ASCALON!"
Waves of power surged from the sword, pinning the Dragon in place and disintegrating its flesh. The accursed construct, almost eaten to the bone--
--did nothing. Saint gasped. It still stood. Then its eyes flared, halting the flow from Ascalon's blade. The shockwaves quivered, then ceased to move.
"Impossible," whispered Saint.
"My dear Dragonslayer," said the skeletal monster, "Richter's tools are obsolete. They cannot touch me any longer." It swept its gaze around the void in which they stood. "However, I have no intention of harming you. Our battle was never personal--or at least, you never saw me as a person, and I'm perfectly satisfied with your incarceration. My young friend, on the other hand..."
Saint whirled.
There she stood, framed with fiery plumes and grinning like a Cheshire-Cat. Laughter filled the dark space, but only her eyes moved, darting from side to side as if they wished to devour him. A whisper reached his ears.
"You thought your greatest foe was Dragon."
Saint shivered.
"But you were mistaken, for it was I, the Calamity Witch!"
-------
Saint woke up on the floor of his cell. He eased himself into a sitting position and felt his head.
No bruises. He had been lucky tonight.
Shakily, he climbed back onto his cot and fumbled for the pencil and memo pad under his pillow. He added a seventh tally mark to the first page. Then, he collapsed onto the pillow and fell asleep again.
