I once came upon a small child who was throwing rocks into a stream. I asked him what he was doing. He said simply that he was fighting demons. Curious, I looked into the water and found fish weaving to and fro. I remarked jokingly that his fight seemed fraught with difficulty and that perhaps he might consider another weapon. The boy turned and I saw half his faced simultaneously bulged from gross sores and eaten away from dead flesh sloughing off his bones. The boy simply muttered that he wished his village had done so before it was wiped away from a disease carried by these fish. Quickly after that, the boy, the rocks, and the fish diffused into black smoke.