If you meet me, have some sympathy 11

It was some time in the early hours; the estate had sunk into a wary silence and all I could hear were the distant drone of a police helicopter and Theresa’s irregular breathing. A shaft of moonlight spotlighted the centre of the room, glinting off the beer stains. I was sitting in one corner gazing at it and wondering where Theresa would go when she died in this world – which was careless because I should have been watching the shadows.

I was surrounded before I could move – low rank demons and just a scout squadron, but I knew their leader. We’d trained together and there weren’t many in Hell who hated me quite so intensely. I recognised his look of triumph; he wouldn’t worry about any questions or my mission; it would be annihilation simple and quick. He raised his hands and I tried not to flinch.

But the light went out of his eyes as a bolt of white fire shot between them. The demons began to scatter but they didn’t stand a chance. When I’d polished them off, I turned back to Theresa who was sitting up, her fingers still smoking.

‘So you’re feeling better then,’ I remarked.