The Fiend struck first. As I emerged into the red baleful glare of Hell’s blood moon, I was immediately seconds from death. The Fiend attacked from the direction of that moon, a surge of darkness that eclipsed it as his jaws widened and he savagely snapped his fangs at me.

His dragon shape was immense. Had those fangs made contact, he would have bitten me in half. But somehow, with just inches to spare, I twisted away and soared upwards, just managing to evade a furious swing of his barbed tail.

The Last Spook Chapter 29