Octavia (Completed - 2018 Watty's Longlist)

Chapter Thirty - Edmund

The fire was slowly and reluctantly beginning to burn out. It was as if it wanted to stay and continue to burn my body. For a moment there in the very beginning, I thought that that was what I would have to live with for the rest of my life. Just an eternity of flames. Then, just as I had successfully begun to think of something other than the fire, I could feel it slip away from the tips of my toes and fingers. I fought the urge to wiggle them, to see if my mind hadn't played some twisted joke on me and that this misery was indeed coming to an end. I wanted to test it, challenge it, though I was frightened that if I as much as dared to do it I would lose all sense of my control. I mentally winced at the thought of it.

It had been so long since I could think of something else other than the flames, that now if I concentrated enough, I could feel changes in myself. I could hear things coming from downstairs - things I shouldn't be able to from wherever I was. I tried to pick up anything that felt familiar about where I was for I couldn't open my eyes. Then, I smelt it. I had been in this room so many times. I had smelt the smells and the perfumes that this room held. Though as I let those scents consume me I realised that they were stronger, as if the smell had been intensified somehow.

I knew from just the smell that I was in Maxwell's office. I could smell the books, the musky, woody smell of the timber bookcases that filled the entire room. I could even smell the leather of the furniture Maxwell had. I had never been able to smell that before. It was as if those objects had been placed right up to my nose. Though even if they were, I doubt I would be able to smell how old they were. Like I knew it's age just by how much dust covered them.
As I continued to breathe in the calm aroma, I began to feel new things. Things I had never knew I could feel. I could taste the air. Just by breathing in, I could taste all the things I could smell. If I had thought smelling all of these new things was weird, tasting them was definitely weirder.

It has been a while later. I was glad that I had discovered all of these new things because it gave me something else to concentrate on other than the fire. It was still so incredibly hot, especially around my heart as the flames slipped away from my forearms and calves. Now that I could actually think, knowing that the fire would eventually end, I began to question why I was burning. What had happened to me? Surely my body hadn't of caught on fire because I've been burning for far too long for a human to survive.
I tried to think of the last time I was conscious. When my eyes were actually open and not seeing the darkness behind my closed eyelids. I tried, but I couldn't. Not because I couldn't remember, but because my last memory couldn't have lead me here. I was in the car with Octavia. I was searching for her phone because it was ringing and she was driving. The next thing I know I blacked out. How did I go from searching for her phone, to being set on fire?

I waited for the fire to stop, wishing I could just open my eyes and see that my body didn't resemble a black corpse. I wanted to prove to myself that this wasn't death. But I couldn't even open my eyes, so how was I to know?
Though, the fire in me was beginning to end which meant that I was still somehow alive. I mean, I could still hear my heart beating in my too hot chest. The anticipation, the slowness of it all was driving me insane. I want it to be over.

"Shouldn't he be waking up? Are you sure it worked?" At the sound of her voice the urge to open my eyes was even stronger. She hadn't said a word since she had been sitting by my side. Her voice sounded even more appealing if that were even possible.
Another voice spoke, one I immediately recognised as Maxwell's. I didn't even hear him come in. "I am positive it worked. You did very good, my dear." What were they talking about?
"I'm scared." She admitted to him, her voice quivering. I hated to hear her feel this way. I wanted to be there for her and ask why she was scared but the fire didn't let me.
"Of what?" Maxwell questioned, confused.
"That he'll be different. What if he doesn't want to live like us? What if he's blood crazed?" She worried, her voice raising in anxiety. Blood crazed? Who was blood crazed? What was she talking about?
I hear Maxwell chuckle in response. "I thought the same when I turned all of you. But I taught you how to resist the temptation."