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21 June 2020 (X)
The body erupted in flames as the night sky glowed in a faint red warning. The screams of the burning man pierced through the ears of the 23-year-old watching with tears flowing down his eyes. His mother crouched down next to him and wailed as she covered the eyes of a teenage girl who was seated on her lap. It was like watching a fire demon blindly finding its way around the Earth. The dancing fire that rapidly spread across the petrol-covered body burnt a scar in the 23-year-old's mind. A scar that stung across the back of his brain to his red swollen eyes. Heavy smoke made its way into his lungs, making him cough uncontrollably. He never wanted it to end like this. It was never supposed to be like this. Rage filled his eyes and he resented every one of them.
He will make them pay.
Their laughter made his blood boil as he watched them taunt the burning man. Their eyes revealed no mercy, no empathy, no regret. He would make them regret it. Make them regret ever messing with his family. He will drive them down to the depths of hell and make them burn just like how they made his father burn in front of his eyes. If it weren't for the gun that was pointed at the back of his head and the knife that was held at his mother's throat, he would have already pounced on those filthy men who smelled like petroleum. He would snatch the can of petroleum from their arms and make them shower in flames as well. Or even worse, he would dig his long nails into their throat and rip it out their thyroid with his bare hands. He wanted to feel them die. He wanted them at his knees, begging for their life. Just like how they made his father beg for the life of his family.
He forced himself to watch his father crumple to dust and ashes, returning to the mother nature that he once arose from. His mother collapsed to the floor in shock and his little sister just sat there, staring blankly into the air. The pyromaniacs kicked the ashes of his father and he watched them fade into the darkness. The sky no longer lights up in rage nor does the moon look down at him with pity.
"I will make them pay," he vowed, "I will watch them burn."
He looked up to the crescent moon.
His eyes were dead with determination.
"That's a promise."
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