Flames of Solitude - Volume 1

Chapter 10 - Princess of Fire

The fire danced around her, resembling birds with fiery wings, fluttering in the cold cellar. Serpents of fire writhed on her skin, consuming the last pieces of fabric on her body.

Their master required no earthly materials; soon, she adorned herself in a red dress, a fitting attire for her newfound status. Jessica twirled in her fiery clothes, each movement sending sparks flying into the air. The cellar's temperature, once dominated by cold, retreated toward its corners and walls, waging a desperate battle.

But Jessica's flames were relentless; they pursued the chill, crept up the walls that had long been frozen, walls that had absorbed the young girl's cries and tears. These walls had to fall!

Flames of solitude, sealed and confined, crackled in the presence of their master. They sent sparks flying, a desperate attempt to bring down the stone walls. The sparks collided with the stone, vanishing, only to be replaced by more.

"Hahahaha."

Amidst the crackling and creaking, laughter emerged. Jessica's eyes remained closed as she danced with joy. She found countless friends, loyal companions who would never abandon her, always there to surround her when she felt alone. Warmth coursed through her veins, spreading throughout her body.

She stretched her arms to the sides like an angel unfurling its powerful wings to captivate mortals. Behind her, the flames heeded their master's desires. They would scorch loneliness, incinerate solitude, extinguish the need for anyone else but them — her devoted soldiers.

Feathers of fire converged to form wings, unfurling behind the outstretched arms of the young girl.

As though a devil had taken residence within the guise of an innocent girl, she stood there, a looming shadow of menace.

The flames crackled, as if reveling in the presence of this entity, their dance intensifying. From flickering around on the floor, they climbed the walls, engulfing the ceiling and leaping into the air. These sons and daughters of fire turned the cellar into their playground, soon finding a box full of Melody's toys — setting them ablaze — an old wooden bike — reducing it to ash — and a table with a broken leg — they devoured it.

One of the boxes contained an array of books, filled with tales of heroes, gods, princesses, legends, and myths. The flames consumed these stories, devouring each word as if mocking their content, sending plumes of black smoke into the air. Their beloved master had no need for such tales — not the gods in the heavens, the mighty heroes, nor the beautiful princesses — all reduced to nothing more than ashes in her eyes.

If she wished, they would create a new narrative, one featuring a princess and her flames reigning in a world of ash. Nothing else mattered, and so everything within the cellar succumbed to the blaze.

Yet, it was far from enough! The flames multiplied without end, overtaking the entire room. However, the confines of the cellar could not satisfy their insatiable hunger. They craved more, and that's when they discovered the stairs. Gleefully, they ascended one step at a time, approaching the cellar door.

The door had been an impregnable fortress, imprisoning the young girl, a gate that kept her in the depths of hell. She, a devil, was denied access to the sky; she, a monster, was condemned to remain buried underground. Heaven was not a place meant for her.

The flames crawled up the door, their fury unrelenting. How dare it stand in the way of their master's freedom? How dare it confine her? The door cried out in agony, yielding beneath the inexorable onslaught. If heaven would not accept her presence, they would set it ablaze, dissipate the clouds, consume everything in their path, and claim their own personal heaven.