The Phoenix Project

.:Pyromania One:.

 A paragraph for all to read (aka-my authors note)

Alright, so I am new to all these authors notes but I figured why not try? So if this is not what an authors note is supposed to be then um sorry, please bare with me.

So this story might be a little slow and boring at first but I promise to try and get through it all as fast as I can before the month is up and oh, almost forgot for any of you who did not read the description on our home page here it is,

Hey people's! We (bythebookstories and slimmac) will be doing writing contests against each other. So every other month we will do a writing contest on a new genre until we have none to chose from anymore. Whoever gets the most reads on their completed story by the end of the deadline, wins!

The contest between us two will start on the sixteenth of the first month then two months later end on the sixteenth of the third month. So comment whos you like better!

This month's genre is: science fiction.

Beginning date- April 16

Ending date- June 16

Make sure to check out our accounts and stories on our separate accounts! :-]

@bythebookstories

@slimmac

So, hope that made sense. Anyway I am not that great at Science Fiction but as a lot of people like to say, try something new everyday!

Now find a comfy chair, grab some snacks and enjoy this story.

.:Incendia Cinnamon:.

I internally groan at the deck of cards in the man's large, pale hands; amusement clearly showing in his eyes. He owns this game. He knows every cheat, every card, every possibility. He never loses. And once he's played a round with you, he'll never look your way again. Unless you're me.

The chair squeals as he pulls it back, inviting himself to sit. He adjusts his jacket making sure to hide all his gadgets so no other greedy eyes can sneak a peek. When his eyes meet mine I avert my gaze to the cuff attached to the table, keeping me locked up; away from the sane ones.

They say I'm crazy

Psychotic

Obsessed

the devil

A pyromania. All these words are stitched in my head, haunting my every nightmare; driving me to insanity. They think their "curing" me, but in reality...their destroying me.

"Pick a card." I shake my head. He repeats himself, this time in a harsher tone. I vigorously shake my head silently wishing for him to go away. To a place where he'll burn for eternity and hope for the pain to end. I want him to feel what I feel.

He slams the cards on the desk, leaning in close enough to where our noses are barely touching. A deep hatred burns deep inside his irises but soon fades away; replaced with a smirk and a evil look.

"Red or orange? Maybe i'll be nice today and tone it down to yellow. Colors are so nice aren't they?" There is mockery in his voice. I shiver in disgust. This man is cruel. My hands ball into fists and my body is slightly shaking in fury. That is all it takes for them to see me as unstable.

He snaps his fingers and four people walk in, their long white labcoats flowing behind them. I already know what comes next.

A woman places a shot at my neck and slowly presses it in making sure to make this as painful as possible but little does she know I grew used to the pain a long time ago. My body goes numb but it won't be for long.