Their sneakers thudded on the slick pavement lightly as they strut down the alley in search of some form of entertainment. Playfully slapping each other on the backs of the neck and pounding on one another’s head, they laughed, their voices booming off the dark walls of surrounding buildings.

            Even with the telltale noise that preceded them down their path, she did not hear them coming. No one did. The neighborhood stood silent in the healthy glow of the full moon. Shadows stretched down along the length of the street. In the distance of the crisp evening, the woeful songs of crickets rose above the dewy blades of grass in which they made their dwellings. Dim lights loomed in the porches and front windows of the homes that lined one side of the street, peering over to the business area.

            A mass of rags slept in the crevice of a cluster of shrubs. The pile of torn fabric rose and fell with the even breathing of the creature. Light snores erupted from her crusted nostrils, raspy breathes crackled from her phlegm-coated throat. Her cheeks were blushed from the cold night’s air, every so often a twitch from a shivering muscle was noted under the cloth. Despite the discomfort of the evening and her bed, she slept soundly.

            The group of boys glided past the houses on the street before crossing over to the opposite corner. One of the boys turned to a friend and nudged him for a cigarette. As his friend complied, reaching for the pack that bulged under his rolled sleeve, he stopped, noticing the dark lump in the bushes. He slapped his friend’s arm with the back of his hand and nodded toward the woman. The group suddenly stopped in their tracks, watching her sleep, waiting to see if she’d stir.

            When they were sure she was sleeping peacefully, they continued on their way, soon the only sign of the boys were the glowing embers of the cigarettes dangling from their lips. Their laughter and shouts faded down and around the corner.

            The woman was suddenly torn from her sleep. Startled and groggy, she shook her head to clear her blurred vision and her boggled mind. Three pairs of hands grabbed at her arms and legs, pulling her to her feet and dragging her across the grass to a nearby tree. Tossing her at the root of the thick trunk, her head slammed against the hard bark, only confusing her more, with the added searing pain shooting down her spine. Laughter rang in her ears, but the figures that surrounded her were nothing more than dark shadows, towering, mocking. She tried to gather her feet under her, but fell to her side as she failed in her miserable attempt. A powerful arm reached out from the dark curtain and pulled her upright once more, backing her again into the trunk.

            A rough bind wrapped around her wrists, scratching her flesh, cutting the thin cells that clung to her skin. Her arms were pulled tightly behind her, stretching the length of her limbs around the base of the tree in a twisted embrace as the chipped skin of the wood cut into her back. Crying out as a sharp pain shot through her body, the boys laughed, enjoying the woman’s seemingly unprovoked punishment. Suddenly one that had not been spotted by the woman before stepped out away from the rest, a container of some sort in hand. Her vision was beginning to clear, as was her head, and she gasped in fear as the bright red tank crept closer, a strange fluid sloshing about within.

            With no real warning, the lid swiveled off and he pulled his arm back, lashing the putrid smelling liquid onto the feeble woman in one swift movement of his arm. The fumes rose and caught in her throat as she gasped for air, choking her, burning her eyes and ripping open her pores. The shadows laughed again, one high pitched screech rose up above the rest.

            The cry of the banshee woke the man from his restful slumber in the house across the way. He raised his head from the pillow, pricking his ears to the sudden noise. Silence had settled again over the crowd. Upon hearing nothing, he lowered his head back into the soft cushion of a deep night’s sleep.

            The shadows stood over the trembling woman, frozen with indecision. They had come this far, dare they press on in their eventless night? If only for a laugh? The leader of the group separated once again from the blur of shadows. The stick glowed from his trembling lips. His eyes were nothing but black slits. The moon had seemingly disappeared from all known earth, perhaps hiding its face from the scene that would soon come to be.

            He reached for his cigarette with his thumb and forefinger, then stared at the blazing ash swelling at the tip of the stick. A low laugh rumbled deep in his throat, raspy with phlegm from the nicotine coursing through his veins. A flick of his finger set the fire blazing and the woman screaming from the core of the flickering flames. The yellow and orange satin licked at her flesh, searing and burning, peeling it away from the bone as it melted from the muscular tissue. Her shrieks splintered glass in nearby windows.

            The man across the street threw his head up from the pillow and stumbled from his bed. Upon investigating the scene that burned into his mind from the front window, he rushed for the phone, and, with trembling fingers, pounded the numbers that screamed for emergency. After slamming the phone down on the cradle, he burst out the front door.

            The fire ball cried out, pleading for help, for relief, perhaps even for death. Her shrieks sliced through his mind, and yet his legs were rubber. His heart urged him on, and his eyes averted to the green rubber rope attached to the faucet on the yard. He ran for the hose, twisting the head of the spout. As the droplets of water seeped forward and dripped from the mouth of the snake, his eyes fixated on the woman. She cried once more for help, her arm reaching out from the flames of the Hell that consumed her, reaching for her angel, her savior. The flames glowed in his eyes and he stood mouth open, trembling as her cries softened then ceased all at once.

            The odor of burning flesh kissed his nostrils and brought tears to his eyes. The flame simmered to a few flickers here and there, the mass that was once human laid against the tree, a lump of charcoal.

            In the still of the night, the crickets stopped singing, the lights on the porch burned out, and the sirens wailed in the distance. The man fell to his knees and rested his forehead on the cool grass. The moon hid for the length of the month.