The boy's eyes were red. The fire was invisible because of the pervasive smoke. The grey shadowy mist reached out tentacles to grab him. If he didn't know any better, he would have thought the smoke was a living thing, hunting him. It seemed to know where he was.
After having jumped, he landed on the remnants of an old red and white market stall around the back of the house, where one of his mother's friends used to sell strawberries. It was now crumpled, red and black. In this moment, he realised he wouldn't be able to go through the main street. The dusty road with the stone houses to either side was now an inferno. Had there been time to think, he may have realised desert does not catch fire very easily, something his mother had often complained about during the freezing nights. Something unnatural was happening.
The green orbs were eyes, and they pierced the mother's eyes as if gazing into her soul. She was weak now. She attempted to drag herself with her arms. A shiver passed down her spine as a bony hand grabbed her leg. She tried to kick out, and heard what sounded like a laugh from the heart of the fire. The person with the glowing green eyes lifted her. She must have been delirious, there was no laughter. Hope washed over her, and she pictured her boy's face. They may be reunited, she thought. Her lips curled into a smile, as the streets drifted in and out of focus.
The boy retched as the hands of death reached out to him. The smoke filled his nostrils and his knees gave way. As he laid on his back, flat on the roof of the stall, he saw the sky twinkled with stars. All his life, he saw these wonderful lights in the night sky. They were his guardians, he felt a sense of warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of the flames course through him. He felt this throat tightening as he breathed in the dark mist. He heard a female shouting in the distance, and vaguely wondered where his mother was. She would be safe, he knew it. He felt tired, maybe this was all a dream. His eyes slid shut as the moon shone down upon him.
Darkness. At last, he was comfortable.
The green eyed man put the woman down on a grey stone altar. The mother felt the merciless, jagged stone digging into her back, and slowly hauled herself up, and climbed down. The fire in the centre of the village was ascending skywards, and looked hungrier than ever. There was a rumble as one of the towers on the western outskirts of the village toppled. The woman screamed, her house was only a short walk from the huge structure. Reality was beginning to sink in. Her son was definitely dead, and she had to live without him. She would have cried, only the flames had mercilessly attacked her to the point where she was lucky she could still breath.
As the mother took a breath of fresh air, she felt grateful to be away from the malicious creature swallowing everything that had ever been precious to her. Her town, her home, her friends, her family. Gone. Life may no longer be worth living, she thought.
Her last moments carried a great sense of irony. She knew her boy had suffered a terrible painful death, of terror beyond imagination. And she was comfortable, free to breath the beautiful night air. Sorrow and fear mixed with a sense of relief within her. She was safe. She had escaped the demon seeking to kill everything in its path. She was free to run into the distance, and she couldn't help but feel slightly elated as she looked up at the twinkling north star.
She never considered the man with glowing green eyes that had brought her to safety. In her joyous relief, she did not stop to look at who her saviour was. As she turned around, the eyes glowed a brighter green. Green, and wide with malice. There was a deep, rasping laugh, followed by a growl. She let out her last scream as a clawed hand reached towards her face.