Hear Flames

Prelog

They pounded on the door, the vibrations from their fists rattling the room. Old dusty Books fell off shelves, smooth glass plates and dishes fell off cabinets shattering on the wooden planked floor, causing her to wince back further into the corner of the room, under the table. She sniffed and dust went into her nose irritating her nostrils. Margret and the boy hid.
"Hey, it will be okay I swear."
He pleaded with her, his dark eyes pricked with moisture as his soft hand held hers. His hands were gentle and tiny, no callouses or scratches from hard work. He was only but a child. After today he would no longer be one.
The knocking continued, a crescendo of violent barks. Like angry mutts scratching at  a hidden cabinet with steak treasured inside. She could practically hear the men drooling behind the door. Desperate to sink their canines into fresh meat.
"I have to go, I really do, they will break down the door and you know it."
He begged, and she could hear the rhythmic pulsing of his heart.
his body trembled with fear while his shaking palm, sticky from sweat, was still enveloping hers.
"Please don't go. We can run!" Margret managed to rasp out between sobs, her throat sore and red from hysterically crying.
he crawled out from under the table after squeezing her hand. The boy stood in the foyer of the elaborate house. Even given the circumstances it was hard not to admire the planked spiral staircase winding up at least three floors. The main room had seven grandfather clocks each with a copper sheen. Tacky multicolored rugs decorated the floor, itchy against his thin socks. He took a deep breath and stood tall, his shoulders rolled back and his neck aligned with his spine while his hands clenched, close at his sides. He took panicked strides to the door, each footstep feeling heavier as if  his ankles were shackled by chains. his body shivered as he slowly turned the cold shining doorknob. Margret watched horrified as the uniformed men, gracefully covered in long blue robes, the color of veins, grabbed the boy by his shoulders and roughly tugged him out into the cold winter street. Beneath the thin, white, veil the soldiers used to cover their faces, one soldier in particular gave her a shiny white toothed smile his pink tongue licked his front teeth as he grinned so wide, she could almost see the corners of his lips splitting open. The boy cast her one last trembling smile, his moppy brown curls falling into his eyes. They were so dark she could see her own ghostly, horrified, expression reflected in them before the door slammed shut.