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Will flips the lighter in his hands as he walks through the center aisle of the Deadwood church. He still remembers Isaac giving it to him, months ago; he said he saw the image of a wolf printed on the side and it just reminded him of Will.
There's something poetic about that. That a gift from Isaac will be what destroys the place that brought all of them so much harm.
Will flicks the lighter with numb fingers, and holds the tiny flicker to the cushion of the first pew. The flickering catches, begins to spread, and Will starts walking back up the aisle.
He wishes the others could have been here for this. It wouldn't have been the first church they burned down together.
Then again, now that he knows death isn't the end, maybe they are here with him. They're buried in the church's backyard, after all.
His jaw clenches at that. The monsters that killed them, burying their bodies in this shrine to their lies. The exact same thing that blinded them to all the issues that always fell to them to solve. If he can't save them, the least he can do is deface this misguided monument for them.
He feels a strange tingling at his fingertips, and looks down to them, seeing his skin starting to cook from the flame. He yelps, letting go of the little red button to extinguish the flame and tossing the lighter to his other hand.
Interesting. So his new powers let him summon some kind of fire, but don't make him immune to regular fire? Seems a tad unfair.
Curiously, he touches his burned finger to the cushion of the next pew in line, and calls for one of the little bundles of flame that have been following him around since he died.
Fire spreads out from beneath his fingertip, different in hue to the orange glow just starting to light this building up, and growing much faster.
He grins. Maybe this new gift isn't half bad.
He collects more of these fire spirits in his hands, building them up bigger and bigger. His mom always did tell him he should share his gifts with the world.
As the flames burst out of his grasp and rocket towards each nook and cranny of the church, he hopes his mom will understand that. He knows she's not a monster, and he doesn't blame her for being tricked by their lies. He just wants her to see the truth before they get her too.
Unfortunately, he doesn't have time to stay and explain it to her. Especially not now that red and orange are engulfing the room.
He dashes to the nearest window, his go bag in hand, but pauses for a moment when he sees his reflection in the stained glass.
He's used to his reflection looking wrong, but it's different now. There's some instinct in his gut now, telling him he knows how to make it right.
He takes a breath in the heat of the burning building and closes his eyes, focusing on the flames licking at his now-unliving body. He feels heat crawl up his skin without singing it, coming to a rest in two symmetrical spots on his forehead.
When his eyes open, he sees the horns on his head, so beautiful it brings tears to his eyes. And then, a few more, tracing red tracks down his cheeks.
He grins. Just the change he needed.
He swings the weight of his go bag through the mosaic recreation of a false idol with all his might, and William Wight escapes into the darkness of the world he will set alight.