Chronicles of Flames

Four 🔥

Jeremiah could feel a periodic throbbing at the back of his skull, like the painful rhythm of a small hammer doing its thing.
He sighed loudly, and leaned back into his leather chair, neither of which helped to soothe his ache.

The stack of paperwork before him seemed like a pile of endlessly taunting by-products of ancient trees, possibly grieved to the core that they had been sacrificed, and so intent on taking their revenge.

His phone vibrated against the burgundy table, startling him with a jerk. It then blared out a melody through its speakers. It was that special tune exclusively set for the woman that had weaved her way into the soft spot of his heart. A smile crept onto his face.

He picked up the phone and swiped the green button to the right. "You're the antidote to my pain, Deb..." he began sweetly.

"Jay!"

He could hear the panic in her voice. Could feel it even. It was very tangible and bare.

He sat up straighter on his chair, his face contoured with immediate concern, his headache long forgotten.
"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Emm... I didn't mean to bother you. I know you're busy and all... But can you please come over? There's an emergency."

Jeremiah would have scolded her but for the fact he knew this was a grave matter and she was probably terse already.
Deborah was the only woman he knew who was so sensitive to others that she hated to bother them unless it was 100% necessary. She would rather face danger head-on, all by herself than disrupt her fellow's peace and quiet.

He had told her, reassured her, several times to be free to disturb him about anything. Besides, didn't she know she was a lifesaver, rescuing him from this drudgery of work?

"Where exactly are you now?"

"I'm at Crystal General Hospital..." He could hear her voice trail off as she conversed with another.

"Deb, where exact-"

"Jay I gotta go!"
He could hear her breath hitch. He knew then that something had gone wrong. He heard the click that signalled the line was cut off.

Without thinking twice, he stood up from his chair.

As he grabbed his coat for the rack and his car key from the table, he tried to think of what the worst possible scenario could be and how he could position himself to be of help to his 'antidote'.

Racing out his office, he left a quick note for his PA, Fermi, who had gone for lunch telling the smart lad to cancel all his remaining appointment for the day because something very urgent came up.

He entered his Venusi7 2017 model. It was one sleek and cool wagon he had gotten as a result of his recent promotion to the position of Managing Director of Le' Jave Corporations, Ivory Town branch.
He bought it because he earned it. There's nothing as satisfying as rewarding oneself with a good drive after years of slaving and trotting like a dehydrated Impala under the wicked sun typical of an Island.

With a quick shoot of prayer up to the Father above, a twisting of the key in the starter, a lunging of the gear and a zoom, off he went.

~~~
In a far away place, a place that looked like a mountainous, rugged terrain glazed over in dead ice, at the epicenter of this plain, a crack was seen.

The crack widened considerably to a fault in the earth and then with a sudden burst, creatures were expunged.

Creatures of different sizes, bizarre shapes and lacklustre colour. Some with batted wings, some with creeping crawling abilities. All with doused in slime, pus-oozing wounds that seeped blood and brownish green goo as well.
They were the evil heralds.