Out Of The Flames Book Romane & Geschichten

A small, bright orange flame flickered to life, illuminating the cruel smiles on the faces of the family I had loved. Only then did I register the overwhelming scent of gasoline pooling beneath the wreckage. Raheem tossed the lighter into the mud. The fuel ignited instantly. A wall of fire erupted around the car, the heat searing my skin through the shattered windows. The four of them turned their backs on me, walking calmly up the slope under their umbrella, leaving me to burn alive in the twisted metal tomb. The flames licked at my clothes, consuming the oxygen in the cabin. Pain began eclipsing the world from my sight, but the hatred in my heart burned infinitely hotter than the fire. As

Somewhere in the mess, a candle lay knocked over, wax hardened against the side. Then came the image again: Cassie and Ledger, laughing, holding hands. That stupid kiss. Her fingers flicked the lighter and a flame burst forth. Then she released her finger. She repeated the motions a few more times before leaving the flame on. Her eyes fell on the book shelf and before she knew it, she was setting the books on fire. “Let’s see how perfect she looks when everything’s gone.” The flames caught on the curtains and then began to spread. There was smoke and heat.

the bloodline I had set free: “I am human. I am free. I set the book down and struck a match. The flame flickered to life, small and fragile at first, and then I pressed it to the edge of the page. It caught, curling, blackening, and I whispered softly as the fire danced: “All that binds me, all that claims, Leave this world, return your flames.” Smoke spiraled upward, carrying the words with it, and I moved to the next book. One by one, I let the fire take them, letting the flames consume every page, every line, every trace of power I never wanted. The smell of burning paper filled the room, sharp and earthy, but I welcomed it. By the time the last book was ash, I sank to the floor, hands t

Two flames. And me, caught in the middle, already burning.

Going. I took notes anyway. Pristine ones. If this Trial of Fire was gonna try to roast me alive, it could at least choke on the ink of my preparation. My handwriting was so on point, even the angry spirits of academia would've nodded in approval. When the bell rang, I slammed that book shut like it owed me money. "I need food before I set something on fire myself," I muttered, grabbing my bag. Aster snorted. "Same. I think my stomach just tried to summon a demon."

Ben muttered. He retrieved the knives he had used to pin Hilda down. He wiped them on the dead bartender's apron and stuffed them back in their holsters. Ben then found the stash of distilled alcohol the bartender was serving his patrons. He doused the walls, tables, chairs and even the wasted peanuts in the solution. Then the elderly wolf walked toward the door. He lighted a match and flung it over his shoulder, stepping out into the sunlight just as the hut roared in flames, burning both Hilda's corpse, and her victim from earlier.

Their dragons began to breathe a bit of fire over my cuts before the girls used the razor blades they pulled out from their pockets to reopen my wounds. The pain was becoming too much to bear, but I welcomed the impending darkness, because at least, I would stop feeling. I won't beg for death, instead, I will welcome it. In death, there will be no pain, and most importantly, no dragons. Perhaps, I dreamed what happened next, when the girls abruptly stopped their burning and cutting once they reached my back. In my pain and drug-induced haze, I saw their dragons leap back into their bodies as the Hoity Hags quickly retreated. As I was trying to process what happened, I blacked out.

"H-how? I remember perfectly well when you were swimming in the burning flames of the poisonous fire." Amethyst muttered under her breath, still analysing the black covers of the big, bold book that she knew she burnt a few months ago. Her hands trembled at its heaviness — at how fresh and old it smelled. Old tales and unknown prophecies were still lingering on every page she turned over.

The crackling flames roared like a beast come to life, a wild storm born not of nature but of malicious intent. I leaped into action, trying to put out the fire. I gripped the thick curtain lying on the floor and started hitting the source of the fire with it. My mind raced with possibilities - who would do such a thing? Anger coursed through me, mingling with fear for the secrets now being reduced to ashes. I rushed forward, feeling the heat singe my skin as I desperately searched for any documents that might survive the blaze. The room was an inferno, embers swirling around me like malevolent spirits, and I could hardly breathe.