Flames raged and roared, spreading like an infection, a disease.
A corruption that turned the white walls black and turned the light orange with the original white as hardly a tease.
For the fire continued to consume all that it could grasp, regardless of the pleas.
Murdering any that dared to stand its ground against the indestructible destruction, even if it was killed on its knees.
All that could be heard was the deafening cry of the smoke detector, as the house's anti-hazard systems tried to extinguish the flames in the kitchen, but those systems were only designed to put out accidental small bursts controlled at birth, not a horde of flames that ravaged rooms in seconds, fueled by a burning hatred that no extinguisher could put out.
Once adorned with a beautiful piece of white wallpaper with golden streaks, soft fur carpets that were perfect for anyone, and a collection of wooden antique furniture that had not been created for centuries, the living room was now consumed by the red and orange flames that spread viscously, having already escaped the room, racing to consume the rest of the house including the upper bedrooms and basement.
Amongst the flames stood a boy with a white shirt and shorts, staring directly in front of himself with wide blue eyes, just barely fourteen, even though it was hardly a celebration. The flames reflected back to him from the fires before him, and he stared forth in utter horror, listening to strange sounds that conjured up screaming and desperate mumbles instead of clear words.
In the mumbles he could only discern a strong sense of desperation, as though the mumbles pleaded to be spared from this nightmare. Despite all his efforts, the boy was unable to move, not because anything was holding him to any position, but because of his inability to turn his gaze away from the vision in his eyes, a vision that rendered him motionless.
The screaming got louder as the begging seems to become more intense, but only as it was getting louder, it got cut off by a shriek of rage, which then was followed up by an outburst of flames that turned the boy's blue eyes red for a moment, and as it did, a woman's cry sent shivers across his body, a last cry before passing.
The boy stared in shock as a woman with a white dress patterned with pink stems and petals collapsed in front of his wide eyes, and a man in white formal wear with an oversized blazer and long brown hair ran for the boy.
After grabbing the boy's hand, the man ran for an arched door, pushing him while running. At that moment, the boy stood gazing straight ahead at the man who was running to the door. He tightened his grip on his hand in hopes that he would feel more secure in such a dire situation.
As the man approached the charcoal gray door, it dematerialized before him, turning into a cloud of gray particles before evaporating to allow him to exit. The man kept running as the boy dropped his head straight down, just staring in a broken defeat at the sight before him.
The two ran through the door, and as they did, the woman's arm finally dropped onto the white fur carpet, her hand stretched open, her white and pink sleeve ending just under her wrist. The lifeless hand remains on the floor as the fires continue spreading towards the door, burning up the walls beside the door. To the right side is a mirror with a golden frame over a wooden table, and the left side of the door has a portrait framed on the wall, which seemed to be taken in some kind of forest.
The portrait featured three young boys side by side, and behind them was a woman and a man, all of them smiling under the vibrant green leaves of the rich trees giving a peaceful and natural backdrop.
However, while the portrait was beautiful, there is now a massive crack in the center, which only spread to nearly the whole glass top, but that hardly mattered anyways as the flames worked to devour it as a whole.
The man continued farther away from the house and into the black night under the full white moon, which glistened with the reflected light of the sun, escaping as a flame attempted to reach them, but failed as they had just barely managed to escape its range. The house turned more reddish orange as the flames devoured the house, turning it from heaven to hell, with fires on the walls, on the floors, and on the woman's hand.
The man ran down a stone path that cut through the grass from the entrance, continuing on without a sign of slowing down until he got to the end of the path, which is where he chose to stop.
He then gently let go of the boy's hand and let him rest, and proceeded to bend his legs to meet the boy at eye level, his white blazer folding with visible wrinkles.
The boy stared at the man, his blue eyes still wide, as not a word had come from his mouth. He just stared in horror as the man began to speak, ordering him "Wait here Meditat, I'm going to fix this, just give him a few minutes. Okay? Everything is going to be okay."
The boy reluctantly nodded, knowing there was nowhere to run regardless, so the best option he had was to listen to the man. He didn't give a verbal response, making the nod the only signal of confirmation to the man, as it was clear the boy was too shocked to speak.
The man sighed, and he stood back up to his feet, allowing his blazer to unfold and tighten its fit again. He then turned around and ran towards the house's entrance again, off to put out the great flame.
The boy's eyes didn't move from the door as he stood in front of the wooden and stone house that sat in the middle of what seemed to be a forest, as there was no other house in sight, as it seemed the house was in a remote area.
There was no road behind the boy, there were no neighbors around, there was nothing.
Nowhere to run.
Nobody to help.
The boy stared as the house erupted in flames, watching the orange fires rage behind every window of the house, hearing the crackle all the way from far outside.
The man disappeared into the house, walking back into the deathly fire, ready to face the demonspawn who burned his dreams.
The boy continued to stare, and as he did, he heard the sound of more distant yelling, only telling him that repetition was to ensue, and the man was next. The boy tried to break his gaze, but he couldn't, as the images would still be in his head regardless of what he was looking at, even if it was nothing at all.
The boy heard the yelling get louder, and then that same shriek occurred, the shriek that was given before the woman lost her last breath. The boy stared at the door as the orange light got only stronger, beginning to cast its glow that spread out of the house, and onto the trees around.
The glow even managed to catch the boy, who continued to stare, the orange glow making his white clothing seem orange itself.
The fires behind the window rage more, turning brighter as they louden, the beast roaring as it seemed the whole house itself would burst into one great flame.
The heat itself was more than heavy on the boy who was standing at great distance, so much so that his face began to sweat, as he felt his body melting. But he couldn't move into a safer distance, he couldn't look away, he could only stand and stare.
However, the glow was then overtaken nearly immediately as the orange turned to white, but this time, breaking the glow casted on the boy, and brightening with every second.
The sound of the fiery crackles die off as they become replaced by the sound of a roaring hum, a hum that overtakes all other sounds, silencing the night. The hum gradually got louder, getting so loud that it nearly isolated the boy from the world, for all he could hear was that incredible hum, and all he could see was the bright white glow enveloping the house and all outside of it..
The boy's hair began to start flying back as it seemed a heavy wind strikes him coming from the house, and as his eyes began to grow weak from the different stimulus striking him, he heard the sound of the man cry out in a dying pain, only telling him one thing: He too had been devoured.
As soon as the man let out the cry, the light became brighter, the wind stronger, the hum louder. In an instant the white light expands out of the house, consuming not just the whole house, but the forest, and the world outside. The ground, the sky, all becomes white, as though the plane of existence was being erased, with no more sense of depth, no sense of reality.
The boy's gaze finally seemed to break as his eyes started to shut from the blinding light, and he finally shut his eyes and covered it with his arm as the light consumed him, and all that the fire had taken.
Then, there was nothing.
The fires that raged were vanquished at last.
But not without casualty from the flames that moved too fast.
Turning the once exciting and peaceful home of the boy into a nightmare shrouded with ghast.
But this tragedy would be swept in the blinding light and its images left in the past.