I remember how my family fled after the bombing. My mother cried hysterically, holding my sister close. My little brother didn't cry, but he didn't speak either; he just remained silent as he stared at my dead body. I remember how strange it was to see them looking down at my corpse, my little girl locked tightly in my cooling and stiffening arms.

Unlike me, she did survive the attack.

My mother's oldest brother, too crippled to fight in the war, was the one who finally dared to step forward. He carefully removed the rubble on top of my body before freeing my precious baby from my dead weight. My sacrifice had saved her life and she only had a little scrape on her cheek to show for it.

If I could have still cried, I would have in joy. My precious little Jane, only fourteen months old, was still alive. She accepted my uncle's embrace and cooed contently as she felt his body heat. He walked back to the rest of my family and ushered them to go outside. The few other remaining members of my family were gathering there. The sound of airplanes was still audible and they all feared, myself included, that more bombs were to follow.

My sister pleaded for them to give me a proper burial, the sweet girl, but my mother was wise enough to know this was too dangerous. I wanted them away from that town as fast as possible too. I didn't care much for my physical form; it wasn't like I could still use it. My sister looked back at the pile of rubble that had once been my home, before tearing her eyes away and accepting the fact that my body was to remain there.

They gathered what little useful stuff they could find: some blankets, knives, an axe, rope, bottles for water, and some pots and pans. Food had been scarce for a few weeks already and the stream of refugees that had already left town seemed to have taken what little there had remained.

Baby Jane was wrapped in a blanket and handed to my mother; the little thing was already dozing off and before my family was out of town she was fast asleep. I followed them, wanting to know if they were going to be alright. What else was I to do? There was no bright light, no angel to come get me—or a demon for that matter.

-

Before nightfall, my family had made up a campsite in an old abandoned shed. The huge pile of hay provided good bedding. Throughout the shed lay dozens of steel barrels. My uncle had opened one and was amazed to find out it was filled with oil. There were several empty barrels too, probably used by soldiers to refill their tanks. Together with two of my nephews, they removed the lid and filled it up with some twigs they had scavenged outside. Using some hay and oil they lit a nice fire in the drum in order to keep warm. It wasn't winter yet, but the nights were already quite cold.

My little brother, who still hadn't spoken a single word, came running into the shed. He pointed back outside, at my uncle and his two daughters who were dragging a deer. My mother beamed at the sight of it; they now had something for dinner.

Only able to observe, I smiled as I watched the mood lighten a bit at the prospect of a decent meal. As my mother, sister, and my uncle's daughters started to prepare the deer I walked—or floated—over to my little Jane. They had left her to play next to the giant pile of hay. She was crawling around, making little sounds of joy as she dragged a raggedy doll along.

She crawled further into the shed and I noticed a dark shadow behind one of the steel barrels. It seems little Jane had seen it too, as she dropped the doll and crawled over to it.

To my shock the barrel was leaking oil; a little stream of the black gold was flowing towards the hay. I panicked when Jane crawled through the rancid stuff. I hurried back to my family, but they were so focussed on the deer they seemed to have forgotten about little Jane.

I yelled and screamed at them, but being dead has its downsides. Feeling utterly useless, I returned to check on Jane. She was still crawling around the barrels and I noticed more of them were now leaking. There was already quite the large puddle forming at the hay pile and I wailed in agony. I didn't sacrifice myself for little Jane only to have her die in an old shed because my family didn't realise it was a firetrap!

My attention was caught again by movement near one of the barrels. There was no oil leaking there, but as I looked a shadow emerged from behind it. The figure seemed to belong to that of a crouching, hunched man—or so I thought. The thing was naked, the pale skin hanging loosely around its flesh; the flaps of skin obscured its groin and hid its sex. The man-thing was extremely thin, so much so that it amazed me that it was alive.

It moved agile and swift from one barrel to the next, and somehow the movements reminded me of the monkeys I had once seen at the circus. To my great shock, it used something of a sharp pin to stab holes into the barrels. As I watched it more closely I realised it was no pin that it was using, but rather the sharp nail at the end of its extremely long finger. It was then that I noticed just how deformed it was.

The legs seemed to be of a normal man's length—though it was hard to tell as it kept its knees bent at all times—but the arms were clearly much longer than considered normal for a human. The fingers were all very long, but it seemed only the index fingers had a sharp nail on them. I got closer to it to get an even better look, thinking it wouldn't be able to see me as I was dead.

But it did.

It turned around and looked me straight in the eyes—I didn't even knew my current shape had eyes. Dead or not, I still had this weird fear that it would attack and kill me.

But it didn't. Instead, it just smiled at me.

It had no teeth.

The short grey hair that formed islands on its head, together with the toothless smile, gave me the sensation I was looking at an elderly man and the fear subsided.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

It just kept smiling, but then it turned around and jumped from barrel to barrel. It motioned for me to follow him. Not knowing what else I could do, I did.

It stopped at the barrel closest to the outside of the shed, punctured it and used its fingers to help trail the oil across the entire front of the shed.

Though without a body, I could have sworn my temperature dropped as I realised what it was doing.

The creature repeated the act with two other barrels standing close to the edge of the shed. My family unknowingly became trapped in a web of oil.

I sped towards the creature, who had jumped back inside the shed and was now sitting on top of the hay pile, looking down at my little Jane.

"Please," I tried. "Don't do this."

It looked at me with eyes seemingly too big for its face.

"Don't burn my little girl." I pointed at Jane. "I sacrificed myself to save her life. Please, don't burn her alive. Please," I pleaded.

The creature tilted its head and it looked from me to Jane, and back to me again.

I got down on my knees, and I wondered for a moment if I had just manifested them in order to do that. "Please, I will do anything; just don't burn my little girl alive."

It tilted its head to the other side and looked once more at Jane. Suddenly it rushed down from the pile of hay and landed before me. It stood erect for the first time I had seen it and I realised it was well over two metres tall. Its arms dangled beside its thin frame, fingers nearly touching the ground. From my kneeling position, I looked up and it smiled that toothless smile at me.

I stood up and it stretched its hand out to me as if wanting to shake hands. He looked over at Jane, and then back at me. He smiled and nodded, enforcing its hand at me.

"Are you ... promising me?" I stammered.

He nodded again, his hand still outstretched.

I didn't feel much for shaking the bony hand with its long, thin fingers. I didn't even know if I could trust the thing that was planning to set the shed ablaze with my family still inside.

Still, what choice did I have?

I stretched out my hand—it seemed to be nothing more than silver mist—and accepted his handshake. Though he seemed to be of a different substance than I was, I could still feel that his grasp was firm but gentle.

He turned around and hopped over to where Jane was. To my surprise, she had been watching us—or him—the entire time. He crouched down low in front of her and lured her towards him with gestures and funny faces.

Jane cooed loudly and started to crawl towards him.

Every time she got too close, he would take a few steps back, luring her further and further away from the oil-soaked hay.

It took some time, but eventually he managed to lure my little Jane out of the shed. My family was oblivious to what was happening, as they were all too busy with the deer.

The fire from the empty barrel cast eerie shadows on the back of the shed and I was certain some of those shadows were alive. Whatever the creature was that was luring Jane to safety wasn't the only thing out there.

I looked away from my family to little Jane; she was still happily following the creature, now a good distance away from the shed. I turned to the shed again and I saw several dark figures darting between the many barrels.

To my horror, I noticed how one of the shadows whizzed past the fire; a burning piece of a large branch that was sticking out snapped and fell to the ground.

Into the oil.

I watched as the oil lit up and the fire spread, creating a wall in front of the shed in mere seconds. I heard a few loud bangs and it didn't take long before the entire building was ablaze. Screams echoed through the night, but I saw no-one running out of the inferno.

I cried a tearless cry and turned around to look at Jane.

The creature was holding her against his chest, but her face was turned towards the fire. For a moment, I thought she knew what happened. She wasn't even able to speak yet, but her eyes told me she knew what was going on.

She escaped.

The creature had kept its promise.

I walked over and tried to stroke my baby's cheek, but my hand went straight through her.

The creature shook its head.

"What will happen to her now?" I asked.

The creature just smiled its toothless smile, pressing little Jane close to its chest. Jane's tiny fingers wrapped itself around the folds of its skin as if it were a blanket.

Before I could ask another question, the creature hunkered down and sped off into the night.

I wanted to be angry, but he had kept his promise.

My little girl did not burn to death.