Previously: As Digger destroyed the crystals of the City of the Moon, Twain was possessed by Ghost Dragon. And now…
The next time Digger burst up from the ground to destroy a batch of crystals, a beam of blue energy struck him. He screamed as his skin sizzled, and he was flung to the side. He tried to roll to his feet, but even trying to initiate movement caused blinding pain to pulse through his body.
As he lay on the ground in agony, he heard heavy footsteps pound up beside him. He groaned and forced himself to stand. Once he got his muscles moving, the agony receded enough that he could stand upright. “Twain? What the hell?”
Digger’s vision cleared enough to realize that Twain was a lot bigger than before–at least fifteen feet tall–and that the glowing energy coruscating all around him formed the mocking visage of Ghost Dragon. “I thought you were stuck in the crystals,” Digger said.
“I am,” said the Ghost. He held up his right fist, closed around the shard of crystal from the palace. “I possess the crystals and anybody in contact with them.”
Twain’s massive left hand shot out and grabbed Digger around the throat. Digger gagged as he was lifted from the ground. “You know, I could take you as well. Force you to touch one of the few remaining unbroken crystals in the cavern and possess you, body and soul. Do you know why I don’t?”
Digger used what strength he had remaining to lift himself against Ghost Twain’s massive hand so he could breathe a little. “No,” he gasped.
“I don’t need you,” the Ghost Twain said. “I’m in possession of the most powerful creature on Earth. I don’t need anyone or anything else. The only reason you’re still alive is that I enjoy watching the despair when people realize how impotent they are. I enjoy watching the hope drain from their eyes as they understand, really understand for the first time, not only their imminent death, but their utter helplessness in the face of my power.”
“Wait, let me get this straight,” Digger croaked. “You’re still stuck inside the crystals? You’re only able to possess Twain because he’s holding a crystal in that hand?”
The Ghost Twain gave Digger a shake that flung his body about as if he had no skeleton at all. “Weren’t you paying attention? Yes, that’s exactly the situation.”
Digger pulled himself up again to keep from simply hanging by his neck in the Ghost Twain’s grip His clinging powers kept his hands from slipping off the blue giant’s skin, but his strength was failing and black spots were swimming before his eyes. “So all I have to do is knock the crystal out of your hand, and you’ll lose your grip on Twain.”
The Ghost threw his head back and laughed at the sky. “Yes, that’s all you have to do. But you’ll never get the chance to try.”
The Ghost Twain’s grip tightened, and Digger’s vision blurred. His hands slipped off of Twain’s arm and fell limp at his sides.
Is this the end for Digger? Given that my next project has nothing to do with superheroes or Digger’s world (well, almost nothing), could I really intend to kill him off? The episodes have almost run out; don’t miss the next one now!
To read from the beginning, click here…