A Candle

The sky is dark, the clouds swirling around the eclipse like a tornado. That's where he sees the red. Reflected against the moon. He twists, trying to do something, do *anything*.

He's met by burning pain. Fear runs through him from the point of impact. Blue wards etched into his skin fight back against the curse, but he knows it won't be enough. Better mages than him have tried. It's okay though, they were never meant to keep him safe.

They were meant to give him time.

The flames rage across his form, consuming him. But wreathed in fire, he reaches out and grabs the Umpire's mask. Staring into the red glowing orb, he *smiles*.

"I already know you can die, motherfucker. You're not taking anyone else."

He burns *stronger*. The candle lit at both ends. The flame that is twice as bright. And with him the Umpire burns too, it's rage adding to the pyre.

Tillman Henderson dies, and none of the rest of the Crabs who were supposed to that game do.