"Have you ever started a fire just to watch it burn and die?"
He upturned his palm as he spoke, pausing in speech to reveal a hand coated in ash. The heavy scent of smoke lingered in the air like an intoxicating mist, yet he inhaled it, welcomed it like an old friend.
Agatha flinched slightly as another match was drawn, lit; held close to another ball of crumpled paper. The flame spread across its' surface, leaving a trail of black in its' wake. Ruben picked it up with the thumb and index finger of his other hand, now free of the second match which now lay dead on the table. He didn't recoil when the tendrils of orange began to lick his hand - instead, he placed it, like a delicate flaming flower, into the basin, seemingly mesmerised as the water slowly consumed the small blaze. Where there was black, embers danced before eventually dying like the rest of their kind.
The carbon monoxide stung her throat. Agatha swallowed.
"To watch the last of the fire slowly extinguish - die out, in the most beautiful way possible." Ruben's hand was submerged, and upon even closer inspection bore apatch of red that extended along his thumb and wrist.
With his left hand, he scooped up the remains of the last burnt paper from its' watery grave and tossed it to the floor where it joined its' predecessors.
"It's almost as satisfying as watching people die," Ruben whispered. "So I suppose it will suffice, for now."
YOU ARE READING
UNFINISHED: Prince of Madness
Fantasy"In this world, it's dangerous to be different." Agatha and her best friend have kept a dangerous secret for years. And yet, on a trip to an abandoned hospital, Agatha meets a strange character whose existence could threaten the safety of them all. ...
