* * *
. . .
You look down at the candle. The LED light flickers, then lights up. Somehow, this candle smells like . . . mint.
The wax will drip on your hands. Don't flinch!
Like I said, no going back now.
The first drop of plastic hurt, but as the rest followed, you didn't really feel much anymore.
Perfect . . . Now, crouch . . . and light this meadow on fire ! [Burn the grass . . . ?]
Well? [Run away]
Are you lost? It's . . too late now