We were done. We were going to be engulfed by Hell. We had no escape. He was going to pour the kerosene, toss the lighter, and there was nothing we could do about it.


But then he snapped it shit quickly. "Really, Specer?" He tilted his head to the side.


I stepped in front of her, wrapping my arm behind me and around so my hand was on the small of her back and her head was tucked into the crook of my shoulder.


"Spencer, I am surprised at you," Drew Sanders spoke again in a taunting manner. I could feel the back of my tshirt begin to dampen with her tears.


"You've tormente Specer her entire life. Leave her alone," I spat.


Drew Sanders chuckled. "You always did have issues handling your own problems, dear," he sighed. "Look around you. Look at what you have done," he sneered. As he spoke, he stepped on Vic's already broken looking hand. Vic was barely even conscious enough to react to the feeling... He was so helpless, but so were we. One wrong move, and we all go down in flames.


"Stop it," Specer growled.


Drew Sanders smirked. He was playing with her. Taunting. "Why don't you ever fight your own battles, Spencer?"


She carefully emerged herself from behind me. I squeezed her arm in warning, but she moved slightly in front of me, anyway.


"You're a coward," she glared at him. He only scoffed at her.


"Says the girl who let her families burn," he said, his voice dripping with acid.



I knew this hit a nerve in Spencer. I knew something inside of her had to of snapped with his words. She gritted her teeth, and, despite my silent warnings, she shook off my grasp and slowly walked towards Drew Sanders.


I expected her to attack him. I expected a terrible scene to unfold. I expected her to turn into the demonic Spencer from the nightmares that were still faintly painted in my brain. However, she spoke, instead.



"You want me to attack you, don't you? You want me to have to feel how it feels to kill, don't you? But guess what, I've felt that before in my nightmares. I've felt that way when you drugged me into my own insanity. And I'll tell you now, that I won't give you what you want," she spat.



Drew Sanders raised an eyebrow at her. Instead of approaching him any further, Spencer knelt down next to the broken Vic, despite the fact that her life and death enemy--Satan, essetialy--was standing inches away.


She tenderly turned him over, dragging him over to the nearest wall carefully. She sat up with him, and he slumped into her side. Now, we could clearly see the... Damage. I sighed from exasperation, and my eyes watered (maybe we coul put out this fire with the combination of all of our tears and misery). Seeing Vic like this was just... not right.


His head leaned back over her left shoulder, his chin pointing up and his eyes closed. Spencer carefully held her palm again the nasty cut on the right side of his neck. It looked fresh and sever, and I could only hope that it wasn't a fatal slit...


His face was bruised badly. Dry blood lined his hairline, indicating that he had older cuts and gashed in his head. His eyes were sunken in and black. His nose looked crooked. His lips were split and bloody. His entire face was swollen.


Spencer continued to carefully apply pressure to his most-serious-looking cut, and she found his unbroken hand with her free one. She squeezed it, and I waited desperately to see him squeeze back. Please, please, please...


Nothing.


He didn't have enough energy. That was why. He's been to hell and back; he was hurt and tired. That was why. Keep telling yourself that, Jaime, the negative voice in my head whispered as I noticed his clearly broken legs. It also appeared that he had sore ribs because of the sharpness of his breaths.



I turned my head back to Drew Sanders, had being momentarily distracted by Spencer's care. He was still a threat, but she rose above him. She didn't sink to his level with violence; instead, she showed him her real self. Her selfless self. Heat rises, but so does the girl I love. I found myself smiling at her, but then returned to reality.


Drew Sanders was staring at Spencer, too, with a mixture of dumbfoundness and... What was that? Pride? on his face.


Now was my chance... I, for one, didn't really mind stooping down to violence...


"We don't have time for your games, Sanders," I growled, and then I lunged at him.


What sucked for me, though, was that I was ignorant to what was in his hand. He didn't expect my attack, but I didn't expect the really fucking painful feeling in my abdomen.


"Mother fucker," I groaned, sinking down to my knees whilst clenching my stomach. Drew Sanders snickered, placing the bloody knife on the neighboring counter cabinet.


"You actually thought I'd let you off that easily?" He shook his head. I hunched over, gripping my stomach and gasping for air. I could hear Spencer's cries, but I didn't look at her. She needed to stay exactly where she was...


This wasn't that bad though, right? I looked down, peeling my hands away from my wound. Seeing the sticky blood on my hands made me dizzy, so I compressed my stomach again and looked back up.


Before I could say anything, I flinched when something cool and familiar and terrible and foul smelling splashed my body.


"No!" I heard a chorus of protest come from everyone.


"Don't say I didn't warn you! I said if you tried to save her..." His voice trailed off as he flipped the lighter open again.


I was in a daze. Paralyzed with fear. Blinded by the small flame, the small flame threatening to spread bigger. I hardly noticed when someone gripped me by my underarms, tossing me backwards. It hurt, but I was sure it didn't hurt as much as (gulp) burning alive would feel...


Drew Sanders stood there lamely. He clearly wasn't expecting Tony or Mike to step up... I was really fucking glad they did.


"It's two against one, mother fucker," Mike growled.


"Spencer!" Drew Sanders sang. "You're really going to let these two men fight me for you? Why are you such a--" before he could finish his taunt, Tony punched him in the face. Hard. He stumbled back in alarm.


"You're so cocky that you didn't expect us to actually fight back, right?" Tony snarled, punching him again.


Mike helped, kicking out Drew Sanders' legs. The kerosene spilled out of his hands, making a trail along the entrance of the house. Mike kicked him in the side repeatedly.


Drew Sanders was not invincible, after all.


My eyes felt heavy, so I closed them for a minute. Just for a minute...


When I opened my eyes, I saw Mike now supporting his brother... Spencer kicking Drew Sanders in the side... Avenging her fallen families... Maybe ending this once and for all...


Every fire had to go out, eventually, I thought as Tony reached for the knife.


I closed my eyes. I hated Drew Sanders with a burning passion (no pun intended). I hated him, but I didn't want to watch Spencer kill him. He deserved her to kill him. She deserved to kill him. She was the one who should put him in his place: Hell. But I didn't want the image of it in my head. So I closed my eyes, and I listened to the chorus of screams.


Wait a second. Chorus of screams?


I opened my eyes in alarm, making eye contact with Spencer. The knife was stuck in Drew Sanders' chest (where it belonged), but dangling out of his outstretched hand was an eerily familiar object...


A lighter.


An open lighter.


Kerosene spilled on the floor.


Kerosene spilled on me.


I stared at the rising flames in terror; Spencer, Mike, and Tony stared at me in horror. Everything was happening so slow...


I thought that fires were supposed to spread quickly, but when they spread towards you, they take their sweet damn time, I guess allowing you to have enough time for your life to flash before your eyes.

Notes

Dun. Dun. DUN.

Im sorry guys, but the drama can't end yet! It's only chapter 8!

PS: I'm looking for a good representation of what Drew Sanders looks like, but for now y'all will have to rely on description/imagination because I can't find a good match. I might draw it out and post that, but it'll be a while if I do that