Babbadum

She had nothing left. Just smoke, fire and the sound of the drum.

“You will dance,” he said. Withered, twisted as old wood, smiling like a dead man. “Dance the demon out.”

And he began to beat, to beat the drum. Babbadum babbadum babbadum babbadum.

She danced and he beat and the smoke stung her throat. Eyes full of tears, bloody marks where she trod.

And he beat the drum. Babbadum babbadum.

Her stomach constricted. He yelled at her to dance.

And he beat the drum. Babbadum babbadum.

She doubled over. Something screamed.

And he beat the drum.

Babbadum.

Babbadum.