The cloaked figure glided through the fog and trees. At a distance she could have been mistaken for Death Itself. But a closer look would reveal slim pale feminine hands extending from those billowing sleeves, not bones. A strong-boned, coldly beautiful white face was barely visible beneath her hood. She carried a staff, not a sickle.
She began whispering softly, and as she did a thin black vapor drifted from her mouth and stained her red lips greyish-black. A nearby deer and rabbit began to bleed from the ears and ran off at the sound of words no mortal mouth was meant to speak.
She stamped her staff on the ground and the earth began to smoke and shake.
The dragon's head erupted from the ground, then the rest of the beast pulled itself out of the earth like some monstrous birth.
"Destroy the town," commanded the cloaked figure, "beginning with...let's see...the police station, yes that will do, destroy the town beginning with the police station."
The dragon's footsteps shook the earth as it charged off on its mission of destruction.