The consuming fire blazed mercilessly. Noxious fumes swirled and billowed, tainting the azure sky of the placid countryside. In the roaring of the orange flames, nothing could be heard except the gut-wrenching howls of a young girl. Uncontrollably, she wept and screamed at the top of her lungs for anyone to save her family. Yet, no one came. The once luxurious porch of her home collapsed, crashing the whole structure downwards. Coughing and choking in the thick, dark smoke, she struggled in vain to find a way into the house. Deafened by her own sobs, she barely noticed the faint cry coming out from the second-floor bedroom. The girl looked up, hanging by a thread of hope, but the wooden bay windows shattered just as another cry rang out. Pieces of the broken glass rained down while the tiled roof caved in with an ear-splitting blast. No longer able to hold back the tears, she crumbled to the ground and poured out her misery in an overwhelming flood. Above her, the glamorous Victorian mansion flared, disintegrating slowly into nothing but ashes.
"Asherah, something's burning," a blond boy snickered by her ear. With his scarred hand, he raised a cigarette lighter right above her face, flipping it open repeatedly.
As the rancid waves of smoke hit her nostrils, Asherah jolted awake with sheer panic and alarm. Looking around desperately, she saw a mob of kids, no more than 14 years old, all crowded beside her bunk. Smirks pulled at the corner of their mouths as they watched her frightened reaction in amusement. Rage immediately permeated her mind as Asherah realized it was merely a prank. Nonetheless, the fire still terrified her as though she was back in the devouring flames.
"Go...go away!" She whimpered and pulled her tattered blanket up and over her bare arms. Shivering, she scooted as far as she could be away from them. She squeezed her eyes shut and secretly wished that all the kids could disappear, yet the blond boy pounced on her bunk in a flash and advanced slowly like a predator towards its cornered prey.
"Asherah," he sang in mockery, "don't you like fire?"
A small droplet of tear rolled down her left cheek. With quivering hands, she wiped it away quickly, as if she was afraid of showing her vulnerability.
"Get away from me!" She demanded as more tears threatened to gush out. In her almond-shaped eyes, dark shades of gold and brown swirled, casting light flecks of blue around her hazel irises. As locks of blond curls fell in front of the boy's face, he crept closer and closer, fixating his sharp blue eyes on her hazel ones in a trance. The orange flame flickered in both of their eyes, dancing wilder and wilder as though it itself was a reflection of the tension between them. All of a sudden, the boy thrust the brass lighter into her chest, making the torn blanket sizzle dangerously in response.
"Jonas, let her be!" A deep voice boomed from the far end of the sleeping quarters, silencing the clamorous mob in an instant. Every single child turned toward the source of the voice, with some averting their gazes in terror and veneration.
"Good morning, Father Salvatore," they whispered monotonously.
"Don't you all have chores to do? I certainly did not raise you to be indolent brats," the priest replied without the slightest movement, yet everyone seemed to be slapped by an invisible force and dispersed down the hallways with their heads bowed. As the last of the children hurried out of the vast chamber, Father Salvatore strode toward the occupied bunk bed purposefully. In his black clergy shirt and matching shoes, he carried an aura so intimidating that the blood drained quickly from Jonas' face.
"Father, I..." his voice faltered as the man came to a stop just inches before him. His grasp loosened on the lighter, clicking it shut and letting it fall with a soft thud. A whiff of strong alcohol filled the air around them, making the boy gag and tremble in fright.
"Come," the man ordered, emotionless. With one last glance, Jonas was hauled away by his collar, dragging his trembling legs unwillingly.
Behind them, a smirk spread slowly across Asherah's lips.
"Farewell," she whispered.
The dining hall was filled with a sickening odor. It seemed as if the children had not showered for days, let alone weeks. Large cauldrons stood at the center, with many kids in tattered clothes swarming around them. As a rusty bell was struck, everyone walked slowly back to the long wooden tables, squeezing themselves into the overcrowded seats.
"Bless us, O Lord," they muttered in unison, "for holy art Thou, unto the ages of ages. Amen." With that, hundreds of spoons were raised by the filthy hands of theirs. Sounds of hungry slurps filled the damp hall, as every child gulped down their portions of food as fast as possible.
"Has anyone seen Jonas?" A blond girl suddenly questioned those around her. Barely hanging on to her frail frame, a piece of dirt-stained fabric was torn so awfully that it left much of her arms exposed. Yet, the menace gleaming deep in her sharp blue eyes expressed anything but feebleness. Realizing that she must be Jonas' sister, Asherah's shoulders tensed visibly as she contemplated on her next move.
"I found this on his bunk half an hour ago," the girl opened her palm and revealed the cigarette lighter that woke Asherah up in the very morning, "Other than this, there are no traces of Jonas. It seems like he just disappeared into thin air."
"Jonas probably decided to leave this miserable place behind," Asherah suggested softly, "It's for the best of him, and any one of us, I suppose." Still, the girl fidgeted with the lighter in her hands and muttered his name repeatedly.
Suddenly, she looked up and glared at Asherah with apparent suspicion, "weren't you the last person he talked to? You are the new girl that everyone has been talking about for weeks, are you not?"
Beneath the wooden table, Asherah clenched her fists tightly as she calmed herself with a deep breath. In a soft voice that no one else could hear, she whispered, "I must cover my tracks at all cost." Slowly, she raised her head and plastered on a concerned look.
"Now that you mentioned it, yes, I was the one. Yet, don't you remember Father Salvatore leading him away? I believe I overheard him mumbling about a confession that must be made," gently, Asherah guided the girl out of the hall and away from the low hum of the chattering kids, "Why don't we look for him around the altar? Maybe he was forced to stay there."
Shoulder to shoulder, the two girls entered the cavernous shrine. Tall panels of stained glass reached at least two stories high, lining the walls of the dome chamber. In the far end, a gold embroidered altar stood against the clear bay windows, overlooking the view of the churning sea. Soft rays of orange, pink, and even an enchanting shade of purple shone through the floor-length glass, illuminating the altar in the mesmerizing dusk. In their torn clothes, the girls resembled a pitiful contradiction to that of the dazzling room, squirming uncomfortably in their own scabby skin.
Slightly embarrassed by her filthy appearance, the blond girl set her jaw and walked determinedly towards the altar, directing all her attention to finding her brother.
"Jonas, where are you?" She spoke as she paced back and forth along the raised platform. Quietly, Asherah crept up to the altar and closed her fingers around one of the bronze candle holders. Turning her back against the girl, she weighed the piece of metal in her hands, removing the burning candle with a faint grimace.
"What have you done?" The girl's devastated voice cut through the peaceful silence. Storming towards Asherah, her sharp blue eyes were swirling in rage. Furiously, she pointed at the ragged shoes that were peeking out from the base of the altar, "what have you done to Jonas?" With that, she flew into a tantrum and brought down her fists savagely. She bawled, thrashed, and attacked as if her emotional dam had finally crashed down. Wails of despair echoed against the far walls. The windows shook, the ornaments trembled, even the massive wooden cross shuddered. Unnervingly, Asherah stood perfectly still with her hands behind her back. She eyed the tip of Jonas' shoes in a completely emotionless stare.
"Give my brother back!" The girl screamed as tears streamed down her cheeks. With a maddened howl, she slapped her hard on her face, "Don't you dare kill him as you did to your own family!"
Instantly, Asherah's hazel eyes clouded with new-found wrath. She rammed the bronze candle holder straight into the girl's skull as a vortex of fury rippled through her. Relentlessly, she struck over and over again until she finally realized that the girl was no longer fighting back. Stunned, her fingers slipped and released the lifeless body. Like a doll, the blond girl collapsed backwards with a thud and lay rigidly beside her brother.
Beyond the bay windows, the last rays of the sun were just disappearing over the horizon. As a shade of blood red washed over the surface of the sea, Asherah stooped down and stared at the motionless bodies of the brother and sister. The candle that she had removed earlier was no longer burning. Instead, the whole shrine seemed to be darkening at a rapid pace, as though nature itself was trying to cover up the gruesome bloodshed. With one last shove, Asherah hid the siblings under the shrine and backed away into the shadows.
The darkness of the night descended. In the unnerving silence, a beam of moonlight shone weakly through the smudged windows, illuminating a single cigarette lighter on top of the golden altar. A gloomy silhouette maneuvered between the tightly-packed wooden benches, slowly closing the distance towards the eerie glow. Behind the veil of shadows, the man stood perfectly still, as if he could sense danger lurking around him. Yet, nothing moved. Not a single noise was being uttered, and not a single soul was stirring. All of a sudden, a flash of light shot from his silver tab collar and disappeared just as abruptly. He whirled around, high on alert, only to face the same depressing darkness that surrounded him in every direction. Just as his shoulders sagged in relief, a soft voice called from directly behind him.
"Father Salvatore."
Petrified, the priest turned slowly around and stared at the girl with his jaw hanging. There, the two of them faced each other with caution, both anticipating a vicious attack. Finally, the girl backed down and perched nonchalantly on the edge of the altar. Under the moonlight, her sparkling hazel eyes seemed as enchanting as ever. Yet, for once, the colors spiraled with a much hastier pace, as if the irises themselves were reflecting her own erratic emotions.
"Asherah, why are you not with the others in the dining hall?" The priest demanded with a slight tremble in his voice.
"Father, I was merely dealing with unresolved matters," the girl replied in a much firmer tone, "It shall be none of your concern."
"Is that so?" He pressed on with raised eyebrows, "Was your so-called unresolved matters related to the disappearance of both Jonas and his sister?"
Toying with her dark curls, Asherah seemed not at all intimidated by the man. After a long pause, she looked him straight in the eye and asked, "Father, if you were about to die, would you pray to God for mercy?"
Instead of answering, the priest picked up the cigarette lighter and studied the carved brass exterior as he flicked it open. The girl watched the dancing flame intently, struggling to keep her fear and anger at bay.
The single orange flame danced wildly. Flaring in the dark room, it seemed to grow brighter and brighter with every second that passed. Soon, all Asherah could see was the blazing fire, completely engulfing her in a fury of hatred and pain. In the hazy smoke, the Victorian mansion loomed before her, with half of the building charred and collapsed. Black fumes slithered upwards to the sky, blasting the heart-wrenching screams of her family onto her eardrums. This time, though, she could hear every word that they said as if they were right beside her.
"Asherah, why are you not here with us?"
"You should have died that day."
"You do not deserve to live."
"Traitor. Murderer."
"No, no, no," she covered her ears with her hands, shaking her head in denial, "This is not happening. This can't be true." Yet the voices penetrated through her mind, continuously accusing her of their deaths. As she drowned herself in the tormenting memory, another stronger, firmer voice called to her out of the blue,
"BURN THEM. BURN THEM ALL."
Asherah's eyes fluttered open as raw anger surged through her veins. She looked up and glared at the priest with such fierceness that he stumbled backwards.
"Asherah, what..." Father Salvatore stammered.
In the blink of an eye, she hurled herself straight at the man, crashing the both of them back into a wooden cabinet. The glass display shattered upon impact, piercing her arms and the man's dazed body. Yet, she felt no pain as trickles of blood oozed out of the wounds. Instead, she reached for the fat bottle of Hennessy sitting on the edge of the broken shelf. Raising the bottle above her head, she took a deep breath and smashed the brandy right over the slumped priest. Shards of broken glass stuck themselves into her hands as she watched the amber-colored liquid flowing and seeping into his shirt. With a taunting smirk, she flipped the lighter open and lit up the end of his soaked clothes. No longer illusionary, the fire blazed to life in front of her eyes, crackling and sizzling as it devoured the man. Nonchalantly, Asherah strode out of the dark chambers, with the raging flames following close behind.
All around her, streaks of white and gray whizzed by as if all were fleeing for their lives. Kids in tattered clothes ran in no apparent direction as nuns in pure white robes pushed and squeezed for the exits. Despite everything that was happening, Asherah felt peace in her mind. Kids appeared to be screaming, but all that she heard was the familiar roar of the fire, and all that she saw was the wide-eyed expressions frozen on their faces. With her head held high, she strode, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. The wooden structure caught fire rapidly, trapping everyone in unbearable heat and smoke. As others choked and scrambled, she closed her eyes and enjoyed herself in the warm embrace.
The building erupted in a ball of fire. The wooden walls collapsed inward. The upper floors crashed to the ground. Flames snaked into every opening while fumes wormed their ways into the unfortunate children. Girls and boys alike crumbled to the ground one by one, until all that was left was the raving fire and the last girl standing. Slowly, she dropped to her knees and sunk into the deep ashes. As a satisfied smile spread across her scorched face, she whispered softly, "Mama, I'm back."
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