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S U N D A Y
Thomascan't breathe.
He's fighting for air, for oxygen, for Newt. He's on his hands and knees, curled up as the fire dances around him like flaming, smouldering faeries, mocking him. Taunting him.
The heat flicking at his skin is none less than a furnace — a red-hot, blistering, sweltering, fierce fire developing rapidly across the wooden construction. It eats away at the cindered timber, coating the walls in thick ash.
Thomas' throat is dry and raspy, clogged and clotted with the dense smoke produced from the torches. He feels sick, and with a heavy head supported by a body that suddenly seems to be made out of string, he can't do anything besides lie in a ball. Pathetically.
Newt is still screeching from where he's stuck on the second floor, with no stairs to help him down. He's shouting and shouting — jumbled up words that forge together in a smoggy sentence souped up in Thomas' head.
He feels like his brain is melting through his ears, his whole body lead-like and limp. Useless.
"Thomas!" Newt cries out, in desperation. His own throat is raw and scratchy, tender from all his hollering. He's on his knees, peaking over into where he has a birds-eye view of the bottom floor — and Thomas, himself, curled up and almost passed out.
The wood is hot and dangerous beneath his fingertips, and Newt panics thinking about how this ceiling can cave in. How he can cave in, and come crashing down beneath the raging flames of fire.
"Thomas, please!" Newt tries again, hoarse and cracked. His vision is blurry with tears of despair — tears of fury, of fear. He doesn't know what to do, he needs Thomas to tell him what to do. How does he get down? How do they get help? What do they do—
"Newt!" Thomas suddenly coughs out, a horrible, hacking, gravelling sound that's painful to listen to. "Newt, get away from there! G-get to the top floor! Call for help!"
"Those windows don't open!" Newt hollers as loud as he can, face twisted into one of terror and distress. His eyes well up with tears again, thick, heavy tears that sting his eyes, threatening to fall.
Thomas, somehow, manages to push himself into his elbows, breathing heavily and harshly, a great pain soaring through him. His struggle is something he's never experienced before, and he wonders for a moment if he's going to die here. Everything is faint and far away, and he's losing himself in the chaos of it all, swallowed up by hells fire.
