Prologue

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When the world turned dark

She set herself on fire

Just so he could find her

And help her fight the monsters

-SW


The darkness swallowed her whole, like a night creature reaching out from under her bed to drag her to the depths of Hell. Inky tendrils clawed around her limbs, binding her for her next round of torture. 

Her eyes felt like hollowed graves; empty, dark, and awaiting death. The blackness swirled around her body so thick that even her screams went unheard. All senses seemed to have abandoned her except for the pain.

The pain encompassed her body in wracking waves of agony. All was hot and cold at the same time. Flesh ripped apart, only to be mended more painfully. Tar-like liquid spilled from her veins to soak her flesh, and then spewed from her mouth like metallic fire.

Nothing in this lightless world made sense. She seemed to die- only to be save and brutally tortured again. Her flesh was soft, but somehow indestructible. The screams within always reverberated inside her head and being, but never escaped to fill the world with something more than blackness.

She wanted to die. She wanted the entire thing to end. She no longer wanted to be saved from the nightmare, but killed. Because she knew that if she was saved, she would never forget the pain and darkness. She would never truly escape from this world.

Fire burst forth in the darkness, brighter than the living sun. It happened so quickly that she didn't even realize that the fire had come- not from an outside source- but from her own skin. 

Flesh burned bright, dazzling the darkness with the sparks of color and warmth. Rainbows danced forth, but not without the consequence of charred black ash.

She no longer screamed as her entire body began to crumble. She had become a girl of fire. A girl of color. A girl of cinders and ashes.

People whirled around her, magically appearing and laughing at the black quickly eating away at her body. Women pointed cruelly while men doubled over in laughter. Children watched in menacing awe at the vibrant firework that used to be a girl. No one stopped to help her. No one heard her cries. No one saw her, but only the bright flashes of color radiating from her skin.

Burning rage flooded the girl, and her fire grew brighter with the injustice. Suddenly, the people were no longer laughing or pointing. They were running, fleeing from the tornado of flames. Some got away, while others burned. Their screams were different from hers, filling not the air but her head. Their agony was her own, but the pain was something that she had grown accustomed to.

Cracks splintered her ashy skin. Rivers of fire were exploding from within. She was a collapsing star, and her whole body was about to combust into a black hole and swallow the world of darkness and fire.

There was no pleasure in the screams. No enjoyment in the pain. No mercy as the girl exploded, turning Earth into ashes.


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