by Nova

Don’t have much time. Carefully light the fuse and check the length. About ten minutes. Whip out a small piece of wax and plug the head. 

Nine minutes. 

Enough time to back away to a distance outside of the blast radius, but close enough to see my handiwork. 

I run. And stop completely short. A shadow in front of me. Opaque, inscrutable. 

It speaks. A harsh, grating sound. 

“Undo what you have done and you won’t burn in hell.” 

I can’t believe what I am hearing. 

Eight minutes. 

The shadow shivers closer. 

“Burn in hell.” 

Turn back. 

Reach the spot where I had slipped the fuse in but it has already gone past the hole. Fumble with the wax but the lump does exactly the job I want it to.

Claw at it to no avail. 

Four minutes. 

Three minutes. 

If I run now, I wouldn’t even make it out of the blast. Turn and flee anyway. 

The rising explosion catches me, casts me back in time and space, turns me into a shadow. 

I find myself waiting, for the figure that will soon run up the hall. I have a few moments before I will burn. 

You can connect with Nova on Twitter.

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