The Abaddon Den

Prologue - Philosophy of the Flame

Fire.

The most aggressive element of all. It burns, it scorches, and it melts. But most importantly, it consumes. There is not one soul that can be spared once it lays claim to its next meal. Whether that be cloth, wood, or its favourite; flesh. Only pain is left in its wake. Little Lola did not have the time to ponder the philosophy of the flame, however, as she and her sister were desperately trying to escape their burning home.

"Quickly!" Her sister screamed over the inferno. The pair pelted themselves up the sagging basement stairs, red hot walls leaning heavily against them.

They threw themselves into the living room just as the stairs collapsed in a blaze of red heat and black smoke. In the living room, stifling smoke and flame roared through the room pricking tears into Lola's eyes and labouring every breath she took. The two sisters crawled behind a couch in the middle of the room and dragged themselves across the hardwood floors to escape the pitch-black billowing smoke racing overhead.

The large, ornate cabinet that held the family's most expensive dishes groaned beside them. The fire had already gnawed chunks out of its aged, wooden base. A crackling burst sounded beside the two showering them in hot splinters, and the cabinet teetered forward. A deep bellow erupted from the cabinet as it fell forward, pouring broken glass and splintered wood onto the sisters as it collided with the back of the couch. Lola scrambled to cover her head as bowls and plates shattered over and around her, and fire kissed her skin leaving behind singed hair and raw flesh.

After the torrent had settled, they pushed their way through the shards. Lola's arms stung with the biting of glass into her skin and her sister left a trail of blood for her to follow.

The rest of the house sympathised with the cabinet as it creaked and groaned, the fire weakening the boards that held the building together as it chewed its way into every beam and pillar like an infestation of starving termites. The sisters stumbled to their feet from the tight crawl space and Lola's sister hugged her tightly as they struggled through the waves of heat threatening to suffocate them.

Shuffling by the kitchen doorway, they collapsed onto the staircase. Lola's sister coughed and hacked until she shook all the splinters from her hair and damp soot glistened between her fingers. Flashes of red and blue lights peeked through smashed windows at the sink and hope soared in Lola's chest at the flickering police lights.

"Move back, everyone please move back!" An officer shouted over the roar of the enflamed building. "I repeat! Make space for the fire officers!"

"My children are in there!" Lola heard her mother scream. The desperation and anguish in her voice knotted Lola's chest and squeezed out a coarse sob.

"Upstairs! We can make it out your window!" Lola's sister yelled.

At that moment, the roof of the kitchen bowed above the centre counter and a careening groan, along with multiple loud cracks of breaking wood were coughed up by the ceiling. When the upper floorboards could hold no longer, the king-sized bed in their parents' room crashed onto the counter and the lilac tiles their mother so loved were blackened by a flood of ash. The bed was already overtaken by flames and lay in a decrepit heap of ruined cloth, the fire still ravenously licking at the oak frame. A new tsunami of heat knocked Lola onto her elbows, and she quickly turned to her side to shield her eyes from the cinders that descended upon her in a dusty film that clung to her perspiring arms.

Lola's sister grabbed her by the back of her soot-covered shirt and dragged her up the stairs. She staggered to her feet and held onto her sister's waist as she was pulled down the narrow corridor. Fire danced on the walls as it chewed on wallpaper and lashed out at them, eager for more to devour.

Lola's head snapped up as her bedroom door flew off its hinges and slammed into the opposite wall. A firefighter in a heavy uniform lumbered through the narrow doorway and surveyed the corridor. He hesitated as he spotted them, then shot out an arm toward them. Lola's sister reached a shaky hand toward him, and an uneven but relieved laugh caused her whole body to tremble. But her relief had come too early.

The floor creaked dangerously beneath them, and the firefighter launched forward to catch the sisters. In one movement, he securely caught the sister's wrist and dragged her into Lola's bedroom. Simultaneously he snatched at Lola, but she was covered in too much soot and sweat. Her small hand slipped right through the firefighter's gloved fist.

Lola lurched through the air, showers of splinters swirling around her, an askance hand stretched above her for the firefighter's glove hovering overhead. Before she could scream from the fall, all the air in her lungs was beaten out of her and her vision swam with smoke and fire. She had fallen one floor down and landed squarely on her back on an upright board still sizzling with flames. The board stretched two meters out of Lola, and she had the funny thought of dressing up as a kebab at her next Halloween outing. Her blood soaked the burning wood, and a nauseating smell overtook her nostrils as it boiled and evaporated. The fire had already begun nibbling at her clothes.

The firefighter leaned over Lola from the upper floor and a pained expression morphed his rugged features as though he was the one impaled below him. Lola stretched out her hand again, hopeful that the firefighter could reach her, but he kept his grip fastened to the doorframe of Lola's bedroom. A drop of water landed on Lola's cheek and another on her outstretched hand. The firefighter was crying.

"But why? If he just stretched his hand towards me, couldn't he rescue me? Can't I be rescued?" Her mouth flapped like that of a fish, but the words did not make it past her throat.

The roof bemoaned the progress of the fire and the firefighter glanced to the arching of the ceiling above them. Lola felt herself crying as something deep within her understood her predicament. The firefighter gave her one last distressed look before disappearing into the smoke billowing from her room.

Then, the roof caved in.

"My germling," a gentle voice coaxed, "it's time to wake up."

Lei-selle awoke to her sheets clinging to her, drenched in sweat from the nightmare.

"Has Below cursed you with a Dream?" Mrs Abaddon, her mother, whispered barely quenching her excitement beneath her breath. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with exhilaration. Coupled with the lively glistening of her caramel skin in the sun peeking through the window and the easy sway of her long, dark curly hair stretching to her waist, she was a painting of loyalty and admiration to Below.

"It's the same one I've been having for weeks now," Lei-selle grumbled, throwing an arm across her face to block the sun.

"I see," Mrs Abaddon muttered. She took a moment to think before speaking again. "It is about time you found new Kin; Dredging Day is just around the corner. You wouldn't want to miss it again and suffer the consequences."