As the aftershocks rattled the air, I looked at Wendy. The fire danced around her, pointed tongues licking her, but not consuming her.

I was reminded of that day I saved her from her own home. I had dragged her out of the flames and neither us had been singed. The flames had danced around her then, exactly as they did now, honoring her presence.

Suddenly, it all made sense. Wendy smiled wildly and let go of me. Pain seared every cell in my body at once. I tried to scream but the fire consumed the oxygen.

Wendy was a goddess of the fire. It worshiped her, and bowed to her every whim. I watched it caress her lovingly, as enamored with her as I was. She watched me burn, the ultimate sacrifice.

This was how it was meant to be. I was the fire; it was part of me, inseparable, a part of my soul. I would never escape. If I hid, it would find me and no mere support group was ever going to stop it from pursuing me.

As the last vestiges of humanity were sucked from me, I felt a release. I was finally free.