Summation: It wasn't supposed to go like this. A confrontation between Klarion the Witch-Boy and Dr. Fate/Kid Flash goes horribly wrong.
Disclaimer: How I wish I owned Klarion, the (bum bum BUM) Witch-Boy…
He was trying to get away now—to get anywhere, anywhere away from here—but could only manage a feeble grey flicker. It pulsed like a rapid heartbeat before completely evaporating. No time to figure out the how's or the why's; something was keeping him from using his magic. Which would have been great if it affected both sides of the battle… Except it only seemed to be hindering him and the "battle" had quickly become one-sided mystic attacks that Klarion desperately dodged, trying to drum up any line of magical defence.
He had a death grip on his cat and had squeezed himself back into the tightest corner he could manage.
No magic meant no portals. No portals meant he couldn't escape. He couldn't—an iron weight dropped in his stomach. No. Klarion trembled as the Order Lord bore down on him, hugging Teekl as if that would protect him from the righteous wrath of that golden helmet. This wasn't fun- this wasn't a game anymore…
Looking into the Witch-Boy's fearful, tear-streaked face from deep inside the recesses of his mind, Wally wondered if Dr. Fate was taking things too far- just as he lifted a gleaming, wickedly sharp ankh….
A/N: ((chuckles evilly))
((is promptly bricked for cliffhanger)) Readers are formally challenged to continue the story. Think you're up to the challenge?