Kelly ran.

She wasn’t far from Chris’s place, but the streets had changed shape, were conspiring against her, and she was getting lost in her own neighbourhood.  She tried calling Chris as she ran, and a preternaturally calm woman told her the number wasn’t in service, and also that Kelly would light the way for the Great Coming.

Ahead of her, a man stood in the middle of the street, glowing softly.  Kelly could smell burning meat.

“Herald,” he wheezed.  Gouts of black escaped from his mouth.  “It’s your time to burn.”

With a shudder, smoke burst from his skin.


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