"No.” She admitted, guiltily. “I am sorry. If I enter the darkness, it would grab me before I can fetch you anything to get the fire going.”

Sam nodded. He had faced death before. But every time, there was hope, a fighting chance. This time, he could do nothing.

“What would happen to you after it kills me?”

Emily visibly shuddered. “He will have me, place its scythe through my soul. It allows it to control the agony my soul receives. Then, until the morning, I will keep suffering. Every moment feels like an eternity. I might switch to my other personalities, just to escape the pain.”

Sam nodded. So she knew about her condition. He mindlessly reached his gun. At that moment, he truly felt helpless, and at least, he wanted to go out on his own terms.

“You have a gun?” Emily asked, eyes wide.

“Yes.” He said, but before he could do anything, Emily slapped him.

“You idiot, there is gun powder in these bullets right? You can light anything on fire with that.” She said it all frantically, and even though it wasn’t as easy as she thought it was, it was a chance. He got the bullets out. Disassembling a bullet without proper tools was nearly impossible, but he used a corner of his belt buckle as leverage and opened three bullets. He placed the gunpowder on his now, relatively dried shirt. And lit the last match with the last of burning diary’s pages.