He was a fool. A stupid, stupid fool full of old tricks that didn't work. He's trembling, head to toe, blinking back tears as the monster's cold breath and colder words chill him to the core.

He can hear himself muttering in chant, "No. No, no, no, no mi hija. Not her. Not my daughter, no--"

It's not meant to be a distraction. But if it is, all the better. He sets his hand alight, pulling the flesh back off the bone and quickly pulling it free at the wrist. He throws it out to that blaster and grips it. And then, still holding the thing, summons his hand back to connect again. He turns the blaster in his hands, one skeletal and one whole, and points it.

But on his stomach like this, he can't just aim at that beast.

Voice quavering, he says, "I won't hurt my daughter. You either kill me for good or I'm blowing us both to hell."