“FALLEN LEAVES ARE ALREADY DEAD”
The young, baking Spanish woman ran wildly through the crowd of frying, milling villagers. The demon and his trainee watched from a hill that leaned over the village. The woman flailed her arms as she screamed into all the brains of Infernus.
“Don’t you see, my many relatives, this man you think is the killer, whose name we cannot speak, is allowing you to feed your inability to see the truth. Lo, the sun sinks. I must work my mischief. You are all doomed. You’ve known all along. I will now express myself.”
She spread her arms high toward the blazing crimson sun. All the villagers fell to the ground like paper kites with no wind and disintegrated. She fell as well, and scattered harmlessly behind them.