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breathing, mouth opening and closing slowly. It stared at me.

Only it did not stare at me. There were no eyes. The damned thing had no eyes. Two holes for a nose and a mouth entirely too large for its own head, teeth protruding inward and out in all the wrong places.

I tried to scream. I really did. Nothing came out. I felt my pants grow warm in the front. I took one step back and the demon lunged for me. Before I could have even hoped to react, it had struck me so forcefully on my shoulder that I went spinning to a stop some fifteen feet away. I scrambled, whimpered in pain at my shoulder, and turned to watch my own death approaching.

The demon remained facing where I'd stood. Not a molecule of its existence had anything to do whatsoever with my presence. It stood, breathing, and faced the woods.

And then it roared.

The sound would have broken the most deftly weaved spell cast by a Siren of no equal. Perhaps I only imagined the earth shaking beneath me.

From the woods emerged light. I could not look directly at it. For a moment, I understood the demon's missing eyes. I put my hand above my eyes and squinted, trying to see what had emerged. Something generated the light, and as best I could see, it was awful and wonderful. As the image of the new creature began to clear, I completely removed my own hand and opened my eyes fully, though they stung and watered. I knew I could do no less damage to them by staring directly at the sun. I lie fixated, lusting after the creature's beauty.

And the demon struck.

The creature of light made no sound, though the blow had obviously done damage. It then recoiled and hammered a fist into the demon's head, causing blood to fly and another shattering roar. I hated the demon and loved the creature of light. I wanted it to crush the demon without mercy. I wanted to be held by the creature of light. I wanted it to love me.

The fight continued, and to my pleasure, I began to see the demon's strength wane. It had fought bravely and without fear. As much as I hated it, I could not deny this. It had fought with every fiber, sacrificing flesh and bone and blood. The creature of light had fought by using the forest around, ducking blows, using trees to shield assaults. Never facing the demon head on, the creature of light had fought with a perfidious determination to never allow the demon a single chance for its own defense.

And still I loved it.

The demon finally fell, this time the feeling of the earth shaking was not my imagination. Blood covered that feeder. Blood covered the earth and trees. Blood covered me. With one breath the demon gave in and died.

I finally drew my own breath, relaxing now that I had seen the demon fall. The creature of light looked directly at me and smiled. And I wanted the creature. With all my being, I wanted it to have me.

It floated toward me, and again, as it looked down upon me, it smiled. The creature raised an arm high above its head, as if to signify victory, or perhaps something else.

And then the arm flew toward my head. Ground appeared. Then stars. Then ground. I was rolling. And then, for perhaps ten seconds, I looked at my own body, headless, now some three feet away.

That was the Saturday night I died.

Learn more about this author, Carey Henderson.
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