“They say the most painful way to die is by fire. I wonder who volunteered to find out that information,” I chirp cheerfully.
Morgan shakes his head, trying to form words, but he’s in too much pain, overwhelmed by agony and shock.
I strike the match, and his eyes widen one last time.
“I didn’t even need to hear you confess your sins,” I say quietly.
I watch the flame slowly eat away at the matchstick, almost reaching my fingers, before I drop it to his body. The flames start to soar, rapidly licking up the trails of gasoline. I slowly start walking out, hearing the roar of the fire as it spreads, chasing each strip of gas.
“Pretty soon, they’ll all burn,” I say as I walk out the door