The only break in the inky darkness is the fire she pokes at with nervous enthusiasm. I watch on her movements, focusing on the exposed flesh begging to be sliced. Soon there will be lighting, thunder, and rain, a symphony to drive the machete in my hand. I know what path she will take even before she does and I won’t have to hurry to beat her to her end. I drag my eyes away for a moment, glancing at her bludgeoned boyfriend at my feet, and know once the thunder begins she will soon lie beside him.