Sometimes, we must do terrible things in the name of love.

I watch her sleep, my little love, her arm curled around that flaming dog in an embrace I wish she could share with me. The veil between our realms will not permit it, nor will it allow her to see me. Perhaps that's a blessing for I am no longer the man she once called Dad.

The blast that took my life also scarred me in death, disfigured me beyond recognition. I glance at the photo on her beside table, the one Laura took of Sophie and me together the day before I left for Afghanistan. She looked so happy. We both did. 

No amount of training could have prepared me for that day, the day I heard the click and felt the sand move beneath my foot. They say your life flashes before your eyes, but I can assure that's not what happens - at least not in my case.

The sand rose in slow motion around me. I watched with sadistic fascination as my boot disintegrated, the flesh flayed from my limb. I felt everything. Every molecule of skin and tissue as it broke away. The flames that followed the burst of sand seemed to stop before they engulfed me completely. Their heat seared as they flickered and licked at my skin. From their depths appeared a horned creature with breath hotter than Hell itself.

"So young," it said. "Your one desire is within my power to grant, if you wish it, but it comes at a price. Are you willing to serve me in exchange?"

"Anything!" The word left my throat in an agonised scream. I felt almost detached from it, as if someone else had said it.

How could I have known the deal I made with the creature would guarantee my eternal damnation?

Flames spewed from the creature's mouth with its triumphant roar, swallowing me and bathing me in blistering agony once more.

When I opened my eyes, I stood at the sandy roadside devoid of my army issue clothing. My comrades rose to their feet from where the blast had thrown them, and they stared through me to the ground behind. I turned, following their line of sight. In the bottom of the crater left by the road mine, sat a limb, a left hand. It wasn't mine; mine was still attached to my arm. I searched the faces of those left alive to determine whose it was. They were all accounted for.

"Jesus," Bill rasped, sweeping the helmet off his head. "Where's the new kid?"

His words confused me. I'm known as the new kid and I was standing right in front of him by this point. He moved forward, straight through me, and I felt his body heat. It wasn't unpleasant, a little uncomfortable perhaps, but not something I would go out of my way to avoid. I know he felt something too, because he looked around with a frown creasing his forehead, then shook his head as if to clear away an unwelcome thought. He used a rag to pick something up from the ground beside a few nearby boulders, wiped it, studied it for a few seconds and tucked it into his breast pocket.

"Someone want to retrieve the kid's hand? Looks like that's all that's left of him," Bill asked as he patted the pocket he placed the item into. "Apart from his dog tags."

The enormity of what I'd agreed to became apparent within a matter of moments. The creature appeared beside Raz and made a gun shape with its hand, pointing it at his head.

It showed its teeth with a fiery grin as it spoke. "I don't care how you get it, but I want this one's soul."

"What?" I stuttered. "Not Raz, please. He's my friend."

"Was your friend, you mean. Would you rather collect another soul, one a little closer to home, perhaps?"

With a snap of its claw-like fingers, we stood at the edge of a road. My road. Outside my neighbour's home. The street looked different than I remembered, the moon seemed unnaturally big and the colour of everything muted with tones of amber. Reasoning dictated that it was the sudden change from bright desert sun to the overcast late evening of a town several hundred miles away that affected my vision.

Two burley men stood tall at the entrance as if on sentry duty. The creature motioned me forward with a wave of its hand.

"Oh God, no, I can't. They went through too much when Becca disappeared last year. Please..."

"As much as I like to hear you beg, I'm afraid we have a deal and you will fulfil our bargain."

It strode toward the gate, the sentinels dropping to one knee as it passed. I couldn't help but follow it; each of my footsteps mirrored those taken by the creature against my will.

The house was an exact replica of my home a few doors along, bar the colour of the walls. The photos of Becca had been taken down since my last visit; they used to grace every square inch of wall and counter space. Everything looked so bare and neglected.

Footsteps padding along the upper floor rang eerily loud in the otherwise quiet house, alerting us to a presence. Little Christine, who was the same age as Sophie, came barrelling down the stairs in nothing but her nightgown. She stopped at the front door and turned to look straight at us.

"Becca?" Christine asked. I could hear the hope in her voice.

The creature waved.

"No," I said with conviction. "I will not hurt a child."

"Children's souls are not for harvesting. Come."

We left Christine sitting on the bottom step, staring wistfully at the front door. It was as we reached the top of the stairs that I heard her for the first time in over a year. Hiccupping sobs, interspersed with whimpers, drew me to the door that used to be Becca's room. Cowering in the corner of the bare room was Becca - or an apparition of her - the bruising and scarring as evident on her skin as mine was. I touched her outstretched hand and she showed me what happened the night she disappeared in a replay of events that, had I been alive, would have made me vomit.

Something inside me snapped. I didn't hesitate a second longer in seeking out the woman I had trusted to watch over my angel while Laura and I were working. With great pleasure, I eased my spectre-hand between her ribs as she slept, and felt the utmost satisfaction as her eyes opened wide the moment I applied pressure to her heart.

"That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Becca said from the doorway.

It was a strange thing for her to say and as I turned to look at her, she morphed into the creature. Its chuckles at my horrified expression when I realised that it had tricked me, deepened in timbre until I felt them rather than heard them.

It moved to the bedside as, what I can only describe as smoke, rose from Natalie's open mouth. It closed its eyes and inhaled the essence of her life force with a moan of unadulterated pleasure. Curiosity got the better of me and I couldn't help myself, I needed to get a closer look. The creature grabbed me by the back of my neck and held me so my face hovered over Natalie's. I refused to inhale - I didn't need to breathe after all - but when its claws jabbed into my lower jaw, the pain made me gasp.

One taste of the sweet nectar was all I needed.

I inhaled deeply. The first thing I felt was warmth spreading in tendrils from my chest out to my limbs. It was a similar sensation to the one I had when Bill walked through me, yet at the same time it felt different, it made me feel alive. I, too, moaned as sensation after sensation flooded my nervous system; every pleasure point titillated and teased to ecstasy. The creature flung me away much too soon.

Once it had finished breathing her in, it turned to me with a satisfied smile. There were no flames to accompany its sigh of relief, nor did its eyes glow the way they had; they looked more glazed as if the creature were high.

Sharp, yellowed claws held my jaw in a vice like grip. "Exhale," it demanded.

As I did as it instructed, it placed its mouth over mine and took the warmth from me in a kiss. A kiss of death.

"Our deal," it said, "is cemented. You may give one essence to your daughter a week, but only after you give me three. Her illness will not return as long as you feed her life from your breath."

With my agreement to its terms, my choice of target was no longer limited to people the creature wanted, I was allowed to choose mine for myself; for my daughter. I didn't think about the names on the creature's list as people, more as a means to an end. No longer did I consider who they were or what impact their death would have on others around them. I took their lives and fed the demon their souls.

My choices were a different matter. I discovered early on in my new career that the souls of bad people - murders, rapists, child molesters - were tainted with darkness. A bitter aftertaste, laced with violence, as it entered my being. It appeared to affect Sophie's emotions too and she became irritable at the drop of a hat. The day the new kitten reappeared with a broken neck was the day I realized how badly tarnished her own soul had become. That was when my targets changed.

Instead of the killer, I stole life from the victims. I sought out the evangelists and God-fearing people. In the dead of night, I'd stalk the streets and deprive the homeless of their warmth; drunken revellers would lose their footing and fall from high places; businessmen would suffer heart attacks; drug addicts would overdose; firemen would get trapped in burning buildings and soldiers would step on land mines.

I watch her sleep, my little love, her arm curled around our dog in an embrace I wish she could share with me. The veil between our realms will not permit it, nor will it allow her to see me. Perhaps that's a blessing for I am no longer the man she once called Dad. I am a killer of the innocent, a gatherer of souls and determined to give nothing but the best to my daughter.

Sometimes, we must do terrible things in the name of love.