I carried her all the way to our base. I had so much dark-red blood on my clothes. I couldn't tell if it was mine or Reana's.
Reana's dead. She's dead.
With a single sob that wracked my body, my emotions pooled into my palms.
It doesn't matter if I live or die. The question is, how many of you can I take down with me in the process.
Fire.
Fire crackling and spreading, burning and melting.
Fire hurting and healing.
All around I can only feel fire.
Screams are only distant chimes in the wind.
My knees buckle underneath me.
It hurts. It helps.
Stop it. I can't stop.
My vision slowly turns to black, no longer any thoughts of pain in my mind.
Peace. Warmth. I slowly slip out of consciousness with the image of fire spreading everywhere.
I am a survivor.
A crisp clear knock is heard. I crawl toward the door.
Reana...is that you?
YOU ARE READING
FLAMES | A Tale About The Survival of The Fittest
Acción" I had only one thought in my mind. I am a survivor. I was suddenly at surface level. My hands acted on a mind of my own and shot a wall of fire towards Reana. The weird thing is, she didn't move. Her eyes were full of agony as the bright light die...
