She was unharmed—because her skin was somehow hotter than the boiling metal.

The pressing weight of the electricity filled her with power, with…comfort. When it ended, Holly was changed. She didn't feel alone in this place.

Punish them, a voice seemed to whisper in her mind. They dared to hurt you….

Her earlier terror was strangled by a fresh rage. Her fingers were suddenly tipped with razor-sharp claws. Her eyesight was keener than it had ever been even in the darkness. Fangs grew in her mouth.

Though she felt no ill effects from the lightning, the demons looked dazed, blinded. They were bleeding from the falling glass.

But they quickly regrouped. She rose, crouching on the altar, waiting as they stalked closer. One had a club—her eyes fixed on it.

A club. To beat her unconscious so they could continue their sick ritual.

Red covered her vision. When one lunged for her, she snatched him by the horns. They were…attached to his skull. Not a costume. Which meant real demons?

Which meant hallucination. This couldn't truly be happening. She laughed as she twisted the demon's head, assured this was some kind of nightmare.

And in her nightmare, the instinctive drive to kill with her new strength and fury overwhelmed her.

When the others attacked, Holly was unafraid.

She knew how to kill them as if she'd been hunting and slaughtering them for thousands of years. She knew to wrench their heads from their necks, to slash out with claws that would rend through skin and arteries as they would tissue paper.

Punish…

When the blood began to spray, lightning scored the sky above her as if in encouragement.

"I understand," she murmured as she aimed for one's jugular and severed it. "I see." Yes, their last sight on earth should be my laughing face.