Among the shards of acrylic and twisted metal, the tentacles of the mini-kraken writhed. The Ghost in his long coat and shadowed hood stood feet away from the creature. The water nymph clung to his arm, her limbs visibly trembling. As the crowd of shocked mythics retreated, he pulled something from his belt, shook it, then tossed it into the air. It exploded into white mist. The hazy cloud roiled outward, sweeping over the crowd. They all vanished—then a scream rang out. Suddenly, everyone was screaming, and a handful of white-faced gamblers bolted out of the cloud. A thick tentacle shot
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Atta boy. ;)
