We were going to set the world on fire.
Just a pair of friends, with wild imaginations and the determination to never be forgotten. But, that was before everything went to hell. They found us, in our dark house with the burn marks on the walls, and the ashes of our first and only victim. The lights were too bright, and the men too quick, but Rey tried to save us. The fire was fast and hot, ready to angrily consume everything, but all it took was one gunshot and everything ended.
That was three months ago to the day, and now I stand in another house, with the consuming darkness and the smell of an unfamiliar family choking me. The small black radio in my ear hisses with static, a low droning sound that will eventually drive me insane. I move through the house slowly, navigating around a large vase before reaching the staircase. There is no hesitation in my movement as I take the steps one by one.
At the top of the staircase I move to the very first room, my breathing slow and steady as my gloved hands twist the door knob and pull it open. The room is fairly dark but I can see the large shape of a man sprawled out on the bed. I know what my instructions are, but as I stand over his oblivious form all I want is for him to watch. To see the fear in his eyes as I place my hand on his chest and cause him more pain then he can ever imagine.
I take my gloves off slowly, the cool air of the room making my fingers tingle, or maybe it is the excitement of what is to come next. For a moment I don't breathe, stilling my mind and body, before reaching deep inside myself, calling to the endless fire that burns in my chest. I coax it to life, and the heat pours through my being, and everything feels right.
I place my glowing hand on his chest, the heat that radiates from it undoubtedly enough to wake him. A small flame flickers from my finger, and I have to fight to hold it back, I'm not allowed to set him on fire. No matter how much my body aches for that kind of satisfaction. Instead, just as his eyes slowly open, my body illuminating his face, I drive my fingers into his chest, inserting the fire. The effect is instantaneous, as I fill him with hidden flames and his body writhes, mouth opening to release a silent scream. And then it's over, and he falls flat on his bed and I remove my hand.
I take my time with pulling my gloves back on, the fire that runs through me, retreating back to my chest, where I lock it away for next time. I press the radio in my ear three times, a signal that it is done. I don't bother to look at the body again, instead I shut the door behind me, and go back down the stairs, past the vase and through the front door.
The night air cools the heat that still lingers on my skin, while the radio in my ear falls silent, the static disappearing. That's all it takes for the pain to consume me, it is ruthless and fast, eating away at my skin and dragging me onto my knees. I can barely hear the sound of the van doors opening and the hands that grab me, dragging me back to the cage. The roar of the pain is too much for me to fight back, even though I know better than to fight them now. It will never get me anywhere.
They throw me into the back of the van carelessly, and then a needle jabs into my side and everything disappears.
But, my mind is free to wander, and I find myself back in that first house, with the gunshot echoing in my ears as she crumples to the ground, mouth open, and eyes meeting mine. And that is a more painful torture then anything they can ever do to me.
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When the drug wears off I find myself wrapped up in their flame retardant suit and sitting alone in my personal cell. The white walls are too bright and my body aches, the after effects of the drug forcing bile to climb up my throat. I choke it back down and sprawl out on the cement floor, glaring up at the blinking camera that is always watching.
