Dnf Oneshots

fire drill

George knows something is different about him. He knows something is just off. It started with a simple match, lighting a simple candle, but now... now he can't help but watch in fascination as an entire building burns down in front of him.

or

George has pyromania and he knows it's a problem, but he does nothing to change it.

(dw, Dream is in here too— this is dnf after all)

TWs:
Pyromania (the obsessive desire to set things on fire)
Swearing
Suicide attempt
Sexual mention
Manipulation

I suggest listening to the song Fire Drill by Melanie Martinez for this (slowed version makes it even better). The oneshot isn't based off it, the song just has similar vibes

Also, I will be using "Dream" instead of "Clay" from now on. I hope you're all okay with that.

Enjoy <3

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Sirens wail in the distance, but all George hears is the crackle of the fire. The flames consume everything in their path, engulfing anything it touches.

George can't look away, lured by the mesmerizing flames. He may not be able to distinguish each and every color, but he knows the view is magnificent. Hues of reds, oranges, and yellows are left to his imagination, sparking something in him.

He looks away from the furious glow to his hands, empty, but not innocent. Looking back to the school in front of him, he grins.

There is no one inside of course, he made sure of that. George couldn't help his craving for the inferno. He's drawn to everything dangerous― but mostly fire.

He marvels at his hands, pale, but glowing in the light. His clothes stick to his skin, sweat-drenched and heavy, but George doesn't mind.

George's obsession with fire started only recently, but it consumed him. His infatuation for the glorious blaze of fire led him to do things he could only dream of.

From burning down a bank to even his own home, George had yet to be caught. His total crimes totaled to the looming number of seven. Seven impressive fires, seven events that caused panic in the city of Orlando. George couldn't bring himself to feel empathy, he could only focus on the incandescence of the flames.

George revels in it, relishing the feeling that can only be described as a vehemence for the dangerous fire. His passion for the idea that he could create such elegance, such beauty. The way the flames dance to and fro lull him into a sense of calm.

He knows he'll get caught eventually, but that doesn't stop him. Hell, he even plans on going with the fire one of these times.

And as the school burns down in front of him, the siren wails grow even closer.

George looks over his shoulder and sees a young child, eyes wide in terror, pointing at the school. The mother of the little girl is on the phone, talking rapidly and staring directly at George. George grins and decides that maybe tonight is the right night.

As he looks back to his masterpiece, he inhales deeply, his lungs clouding with smoke and ash. The heat singes his nose hairs, but he doesn't care. What's a little pain in the grand scheme of things?

George decides then and there that there is no way for him to escape the red and blue sirens, so he does what he has always wanted. He's going to become one with the fire, then he can truly experience what so passionately loves creating.

George walks into the building, hearing vehicles screech to a stop on the road. Voices are shouting at him, but George pays them no mind.

He doesn't bother checking the heat of the door when he opens it. Hot metal sends a searing pain across his palm, shocking his senses. It's truly delightful and leaves George wondering if this makes him insane.