“Don’t do it!” The police officer’s voice is desperate and horrified.
Every ounce of common sense is screaming at me not to but I must.
My eyes look to my hand where the flame is dancing out of the Zippo and then back to the man drenched in gasoline lying on the park bench.
“You don’t know what it is!” I yell.
“Just put out the flame and step back!”
Then, as if I’m watching it unfold in slow motion, I toss the lighter onto the ground near the bench, igniting the gas and within seconds it is a glorious and righteous fire.
Within seconds I’m slammed to the ground and knees are driven into the back of my neck. Even as they rip my arms behind my back to slap the handcuffs on, I don’t look away from the burning figure… from him… from it.
The clothes burn away as the flesh bubbles.
Just before they pull me up, I catch its eyes one last time. They flicker red and yellow as a faint smile spreads on the barely recognizable face.
Then, the demon is gone.