THE SMOKE OF ASHES TO ASHES

One day, a young man named Chase decided to take a smoke break outside his apartment building. He lit up a cigarette and took a deep drag, savoring the nicotine rush. But as he exhaled the smoke, he felt a strange presence behind him.

Chase turned around, but there was nothing there. He shrugged it off and continued smoking. But then he felt it again, the presence behind him. This time, he turned around quickly, and caught a glimpse of a shadowy figure lurking in the corner of his vision. It was tall and thin, with glowing red eyes.

Chase's heart began to race. He took a step back, but the figure followed him. He took another step back, and then another. The figure was getting closer and closer.

Chase turned and ran, but the figure was faster. It chased him through the alleyways, its footsteps echoing in the silence. Chase could feel the heat of its breath on his neck.

He turned a corner and saw a dumpster in front of him. He climbed up onto it and jumped over, hoping to lose the figure. But when he landed on the other side, he saw the figure standing there, waiting for him.

Chase backed away, terrified. The figure raised its hand and pointed at him while a stream of smoke shot out of its fingertips and engulfed Chase. Chase screamed in pain as the smoke scorched his skin.

The smoke cleared, and Chase was gone. In his place was a pile of ash and a single cigarette butt.

The Cigarette Demon had claimed another victim.

Chase's soul was dragged down to the Cigarette Demon's fiery domain. He found himself in a hellish landscape of smoke and ash, surrounded by other lost souls. The Cigarette Demon loomed over them, its red eyes glowing with malice.

"Welcome to my realm," the Cigarette Demon said in a raspy voice. "Here, you will suffer for all the cigarettes you smoked in your life."

The Cigarette Demon raised its hand and unleashed a wave of fire, incinerating the souls around it. Chase screamed in terror as the flames closed in on him.

But then, something strange happened. Chase felt a surge of power within him. He raised his hand and blasted the flames back at the Cigarette Demon. The Cigarette Demon roared in pain as the flames engulfed it.

The Cigarette Demon staggered back, weakened. Chase saw his chance and took it. He charged forward and tackled the Cigarette Demon to the ground. He punched and kicked it with all his might.

Chase’s punches and kicks did not affect the Cigarette Demon for it was made of pure smoke and ash, and his attacks simply passed through it. The Cigarette Demon laughed, a sound like the crackling of burning tobacco.

“You can’t defeat me,” it said. “I am the embodiment of addiction, the power of the tobacco industry. You are nothing.”

Chase felt a surge of anger. He refused to be beaten by a creature made of smoke. He looked around, searching for something he could use as a weapon.

That’s when he saw it. A discarded cigarette lighter, lying on the ground. He picked it up and flicked it open, revealing a small flame.

The Cigarette Demon’s eyes widened in fear. It knew what was coming.

The Cigarette Demon tried to fight back, but Chase was too strong. Chase charged forward, holding the lighter in front of him like a sword. The Cigarette Demon tried to flee, but it was too late. Chase touched the flame to the creature’s smoke body, and it ignited like a pile of dry leaves.

The Cigarette Demon screamed as it burned, its body writhing in agony. Chase watched, satisfied, as the creature was consumed by the flames.

When it was over, all that remained was a pile of ash. Chase kicked it aside and walked away, feeling a sense of triumph. He had defeated the Cigarette Demon, and he knew that he would never smoke again.

With the Cigarette Demon defeated, Chase's soul was freed. He found himself back in the alleyway where he had been attacked. He looked down at his hands and saw that they were covered in ash.

Chase knew that he would never forget his experience in the Cigarette Demon's domain. He also knew that he would never smoke another cigarette again. As he walked away from the alleyway, a changed man, no longer a slave to his addiction, and was now a victor.