Los Angeles Library Fire Novels & Stories

Gerald leaned back in his chair, watching the warmth in her eyes with a flicker of something unreadable. *** The afternoon sun was just beginning its slow descent over Los Angeles, casting long golden rays across the city. Anna’s car rolled into the familiar street, Aiden in the backseat humming to himself as he clutched his favorite action figure. She had promised him they’d stop for ice cream after dropping off groceries, and the boy’s excitement filled the air with an easy warmth. But the moment Anna turned onto their block, the world seemed to slam into her chest. Sirens wailed. Thick gray smoke clawed at the sky, curling above the row of apartment buildings like a monstrous hand. Red fi

Andy told them, replacing some books on the library shelves. "This incident when the town burned and everyone died," Evan addressed with interest, following Andy as he moved about the library's main hall, "it wasn't on the night of a full moon, was it?" Andy stopped and looked at him with a wary skepticism. "Say, you don't think this has something to do with the wolves, now do you?" "Would it be such trouble if I did?" Evan asked, returning the look with one of sincere questioning.

Luka replied with a frown as he lit the piece of paper he was holding in his hand with his fire affinity. I wanted to let him know that Katrina had a dark side, but before I could reassure him, the entire library became engulfed with flames startling me. Smoke quickly filled the room as the books burned rapidly, feeding the ever-growing fire. “Luka,” I yelled, grabbing him by the arm, “we have to get out of here.” Luka didn’t respond, nor did he look at me as I pulled him towards me. I tried tugging harder, but he seemed mesmerized by the flame.

My heart hammered against my ribs so hard it felt like it might actually break. "We have to move, Gideon! It’s spreading!" I yelled back. I reached out and grabbed his arm. His white shirt was already stained with black soot. Gideon didn't move. He stood frozen on the damp grass, staring at the burning limestone. "The library," he whispered. The word was almost lost to the crackle of the flames. "The library is right in the center of it."

Seraphina’s POV The flames were dying. Ash curled upward in the suffocating dark of the library, thin spirals of smoke clinging to the vaulted ceiling like desperate prayers that refused to rise. The last of the glowing pages fell into cinders on the stone floor, and the light it had given us—the fragile, blessed shield—dissolved into nothing. Beyond that circle of dying fire, the monsters closed in, shadows weaving between bookshelves, claws dragging over wood and stone, eyes like fragments of the abyss.

as Santiago, his men and Michael were safely outside, I prepared myself to do as planned. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a lighter. Santiago stood beside me, watching silently. Michael looked at me, arms crossed. I flicked the lighter. “Goodbye, Fernando Ramirez,” I whispered. I dropped the flame into the trail of gasoline I had poured earlier. The fire roared to life, hungry and furious, burning up the sides of the mansion like it had waited forever to consume it. Michael watched in shock, silent. Santiago didn’t blink. I stood there, the heat brushing my face, the smell of smoke wrapping around me.

Aurora catches the third one (OBSERVATION), and for one second, the image of it hits me harder than anything else tonight. Three people carrying pieces of a life my family tried to turn into paperwork. I kick the basement door open. Smoke rolls in hard this time. Behind us, the fire in the archive room finally finds something bigger than paper and starts roaring. “Stairs,” I say. We run. No one talks on the way up. No one needs to. The building has shifted into pure instinct now: move, breathe, keep the boxes dry, do not lose the page, and do not think about Catherine Reed's name sitting at the bottom of the order that erased a child.

"He needs no introduction to all of you, and you're aware he's here because we have a serious problem." Everyone was silent while they waited for Dan to begin. They had all worked the three recent terrible fires, and arson had been on everyone's mind. "I'd like to have better news for you," he began, "but, unfortunately, we've determined that these fires were deliberately set. Arson. What we call, as you know, incendiary. They all began on the first floor, in the back, in an empty room. Piles of old cloths and newspapers were used, covered with paint thinner, which is a dangerous incendiary." He looked at everyone. "One thing is a little different about these than several others I've investi

I scream into the air. "Jessa!" Brixtius's voice is next to me. "Who are you talking to?" "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I tell him. "Let's go!" Brixtius shouts while pulling me down the street. In the same direction as the crowd. We run for a few minutes, the ash making it hard to breathe. Such deadly snow! The next rumble, I realize it is the end. The pyroclastic cloud that kills all the citizens of Pompeii is coming.

Though she tried to sound optimistic for Sienna earlier, Callie knew that things were looking bad for all of them living near the Ashen City. It has been fifteen years since the Great Burning took place in the middle of the city of Santa Barbara. No one knows precisely what happened that fated day. Some say it was an accident, while some say it was done by terrorists. But there’s one story people believe the most—the one where a man burned the city for revenge. Parents started to use it to scare children who liked to stay out late, saying a dragon would descend from the skies to burn and punish them.