I followed my mother's supposed foot toward the front of the building, where it seemed the majority of my mourners had fled. They grouped, confused and scared, in various spots of the front lawn. I located my folks almost immediately--apparently I'd followed the correct ankle.
Amid the scattered babble, I could hear that a few people were on the phone with the fire department or the police. The funeral director was trying to shout to each group of people in a futile effort to determine if anyone was still inside the building, which was beginning to burn with impressive speed. No flames were yet visible from the outside, but the doors and windows were starting to emit an ominous black smoke.
A scream alerted me to the presence of my adversary--the surprisingly adept LOD who'd eluded me a few moments earlier. He had apparently dispensed with any attempts at creativity and instead was attacking with good old fashioned claws. He'd tackled someone just as I looked over and was now straddling his victim, slashing at his face with the sharp nails that protruded from his fingertips.
Everyone present seemed to be too shocked by the sight of an orange demon in khakis and a sweater filleting the skin from someone's face to react. Actually, that's not entirely true--there were a lot of reactions along the lines of shouting, screaming, staring, and backing up in terror. Nobody felt brave enough to help.
Then, heroically, one man took off his shoe, leapt on the demon's back, and began beating him over the head with his leathern weapon. The demon bucked him off easily, backhanding him roughly across the mouth as he fell.
I charged across the grass. There were still some moments when it struck me just how superior my new body was to the pubescent one I was used to. I covered a lot of ground very quickly, and I was gearing to deliver a hit that would raise an NFL lineman's eyebrows. But while I was still at least ten paces away, the demon's fingers found an opening and sliced cleanly through the flesh of the victim's neck. The sudden spurt of blood, accompanying by scattered shrieks of horror and a faint gurgling sound confirmed that my foe had indeed just killed one of the mourners at my funeral.