Terror

Chapter Six

"That's not good," Jason muttered grimly, his eyes fixed on the orange glow devouring the horizon.

"Guess we found that deranged thing," Greyson spat, his voice cold.

They took off, sprinting across the uneven field as darkness cloaked the world in shadow. The only light came from the roaring inferno consuming Simcoe ahead and the faint, wavering beam of a single flashlight cutting through the gloom.

Jason gasped between heavy breaths. "What exactly are going to do once when we get there?"

Greyson's eyes narrowed, locked onto the charred edge of Simcoe looming ahead. "We have to find a way to slow her down."

As they reached the town plaza, Jason's eyes swept over the devastation. Buildings that once felt familiar now lay in smouldering ash and jagged rubble.

The streets were ripped open by deep cracks, like scars carved into the ground. Thick smoke curled and twisted through the air, ghostly tendrils drifting.

"Head toward the outskirts," Greyson ordered, already veering away from the ruined plaza.

Jason coughed harshly, the acrid smoke burning his throat. "Looks like most of the people in the plaza... they're dead."

They skirted around houses not yet engulfed, searching for anything. Just ahead, there were bodies lay sprawled across a driveway and street—charred, twisted, unrecognizable. It looked like a scene from a horror movie where everyone was killed in the first ten minutes.

"Buildings, too," Greyson muttered, eyes narrowing. "She's wiping out everyone here first, then she's heading straight to the campground."

The street ahead remained untouched by flames, but the storm's wrath had already destroyed the homes. What stood were mere skeletons off shattered wood drywall, twisted remnants of what once was.

"Cindy and Emma... they were still in town," Jason said, his voice cracking.

"They'd get out of here if they had the chance," Greyson said flatly. "They wouldn't wait around."

Jason doubles over in a harsh coughing fit, his hand clamped over his mouth as the thick smoke closed in. His lungs burned with every breath, eyes streaming—not from grief, but from heat and ash.

The moment triggered a flash of memory: the blaze child he once tried to save, a freak consumed by fire.

Simcoe was no longer a town—it was hell itself. Fires roared in wreckage. Then stench of burning flesh and wood clung to everything. Dead bodies lay motionless.

"Ashley's probably still in Simcoe," Jason started.

Suddenly, an invisible forced slammed into him, sending his body flying backward. He crashed hard onto the ground, the words dry on his tongue.

From the smoke, Ashley emerged wreathed in flames and pure fury.

"Die!" she screamed.

Greyson's hand shot forward, his invisible punch landing with brute force.

Ashley flew backward, crashing into a nearby burning tree, the crack of the impact reverberating through the scorched streets.

Flames clung to her clothes, eating through fabric and flesh. Still, she rose blazing, broken, her face twisted with madness.

Jason staggered to his feet. Dizziness clouded his vision, and his legs nearly gave out. He forced himself forward, stumbling through a driveway. Desperation surged as he searched for anything.

Ashley's steps were slow as she advanced toward them, eyes burning with malice. "Jason and Greyson," she hissed. "The two high ranks. But that doesn't seem so true anymore, does it?"