As We Burn

Thirty-One.

Once again I sit in the passenger seat of Crispen's car as it roars through the night, watching the inky black trees pass by. He rests his right hand on my thigh, the other on the steering wheel. I take silent, deep breaths in attempts to calm the festering anxiety in my gut. My body has had enough of the ups and downs of the past few months. Even so, I can't help myself from trying to figure out who would use Crispen's trauma against him. Mathias is an obvious choice, but what would he gain from tormenting Crispen? Although he did literally say he just wanted to watch the world burn...Still, it's a tedious task, even for him. 

"You should probably start gathering your things," Crispen says as we pull into the driveway. For a split second, my heart stops - until I remember our upcoming trip to Paris, and it comes back to life. I smile for the first time in what feels like forever, using the thought as an antidote for my nervous system. Picturing Crispen in front of the Eiffel Tower is enough to raise the hairs on the back of my neck. 

"Shit," Crispen hisses, breaking me from my fantasies. 

"What?" I ask as I meet him at the front door. 

"I think we forgot to lock it," he tells me. 

"That's...weird," I barely whisper. I always lock the door, and I even turn the handle to ensure it's locked. Every time. 

We step inside. Even though everything seems to be in place, something feels off. The place smells different; the usual scent of coffee and sandalwood is now mixed with something sharp yet familiar, almost like a perfume. Crispen doesn't seem to notice, and tells me he's going to wash up in the bathroom. I take my shoes off and carefully make my way into the kitchen, filling a glass with cold water from the fridge. The strange smell is fading, and I begin to suspect I'm just on edge from the night's events. It's a gift I picked up growing up in a chaotic home - enhanced senses. That's what happens when you're always waiting for the next loud noise or the nauseating smell of alcohol. I'm just pouring ice cold water down my throat when all of the lights turn off. I hear Crispen curse from the bathroom. My heart picks up speed again, matching the sound of Crispen's footsteps as he finds me in the kitchen.

"Breaker must be fucked," he says, searching through one of the kitchen cupboards. He closes it once he has a small flashlight in hand. "I'll go check it out." I nod, watching him as he makes his way toward the basement. I've only been down there once - the day Elliot showed me around. It's spacious, but the cement walls and unfinished insulation makes it cold. Plus, basements are just creepy in general. I finish my water and check my phone, drafting up an explanation text to Ava. I end up deleting everything I've written, and instead offer to meet her for a coffee tomorrow to talk. While I can admit that I've been flaky with her quite recently, I still need to speak to her about boundaries - even if she's just looking out for me, Crispen's past is none of her business, and it's my decision who I spend my time with. It's been nearly ten minutes now, and Crispen still hasn't returned from the basement. The lights are still dead. I think about calling him, but his phone sits on the kitchen counter a few feet away from me. I sigh, realizing I'll have to go down there if I want to make sure he's okay. I turn on my phone's flashlight and open the door to the basement. 

"Crispen?" I call down. Small particles of dust hang in the cool air lit up by my light. Silence. "If this is a prank, I'm really not in the mood," I warn. But something tells me he knows that, that he wouldn't do something like that. Not right now. Fuck.

I take one step on the wooden stairs, and suddenly that sharp, perfume scent returns. I knew I wasn't imagining it. Except now, it's mixed with something more chemical - gasoline? I descend quicker into the darkness. A few more steps and my feet hit the cold cement floor. I call out for Crispen again, and the light from my phone over the bare walls reminds me of a horror movie. Where the fuck is the breaker? To the left is a small doorway, the door slightly ajar. Of course. If I learned anything from the Scream movies, it's that I would be an absolute fucking idiot to go in there. I know Crispen wouldn't hurt me. Sidney Prescott thought the same thing about Billy Loomis, my brain reminds me. I let the shivers roll over my body and take one last breath before I push through the doorway.