The Burning House Book Novels & Stories

Smoke clawed at the sky, thick and suffocating. The village was chaos incarnate, flames devouring wooden homes, villagers screaming, running in every direction, terror carved into every face. I stumbled through the wreckage, clutching my satchel tight. My breaths came fast, shallow. The acrid stench of burning flesh mixed with the cries of panic. “Everyone, move! Get as far as you can from the center!” a voice thundered over the roar. Golden eyes, bright and fierce, cut through the smoke.

The night was quiet now—eerily quiet—except for the soft crackle of dying embers and the ragged breaths of those who had survived. Evelynn sat with her back against a fallen tree, her body trembling, every muscle aching as if the fire had hollowed her out. Her hair clung to her damp skin, tangled with ash, her palms raw from the force of the blaze. The fire inside her was quiet now, dimmed to a fragile ember, but it left her shaken—like a storm that had passed but might still return at any moment.

He began to let out tears, he couldn't hold back any of the joy he felt and abruptly pushed the door open to an overbearing heat. The next scene that met his revealed gaze was his house, set ablaze and having his his wife and child burning to crisp inside. "Were the mother and child able to get out in time?" His neighbours stood beside him as every effort to put it out failed. It was as if the flame was unquenchable, as its persistence to incinerate everything inside the house's interior knew no bound. "They weren't able to. I hear it has been burning for hours." Another neighbour responded.

Taylor squealed a few minutes later, as a modern, two-story, rustic-style house with logs facade, and large windows appeared before us. My breath got caught as I focused my eyes behind the mini mansion and found the impressive coppery waterfalls for which the town was named. Until now, everything in The Eden was beautiful. “I want the room with the balcony, Mom.” I couldn't help but laugh at my daughter's contagious enthusiasm. “I think that house belongs to the ranch owners, baby,” I said, following the gravel path that led me to the front of the magnificent house before us. “Ready to start a new chapter in our lives, Tay-Tay?”

Didn't even blinked twice when we reached there watching the house in flames. "Nic," Shawn's voice interrupted my thoughts. following his voice I turned around to see him. "The girls are settled." He informed me and I nodded to him as he disappeared out of my room. When their house got destroyed there was no fucking way they could have stayed in that house, specially, when Shawn told me that the house didn't catch fire out of no where. It was burnt by someone on purpose. He hacked the cameras near their house and found out a person whose head was covered with the cap of his hoodie put their house on fire. So, we brought them here in the penthouse. There are enough empty rooms in the penthous

"Damn it! Boss is going to skin us alive! This was supposed to be clean. Now the whole damn kitchen is trashed!" I backed away, chest heaving, the skillet still clutched in my grip. My eyes darted around the room, taking in the destruction. I knew books lay scattered in the hallway like fallen soldiers, pages fluttering in the draft from the broken window. The gilded console clock was smashed to bits underfoot in the foyer. Here in the kitchen, the heart of the home, counters were dented from wild swings and the dining room curtains hung in tatters where one of them had barreled through chasing me. The air reeked of spilled spices, wine, and the metallic tang of my own adrenaline.

The scorching heat was nothing like the cold that seeped from skin into bone, from bone into the soul. I raised my hand and pressed my fingertips against the window. The glass was warm, and so was my hand. I could feel my blood flowing reassuringly under my skin. My heart was still beating steadily. Everything was alive. I was alive. The assistant flipped through her documents beside me before suddenly asking, "Ms. Scott, when you were in that team back home, you were… miserable, weren't you?" I withdrew my hand and tilted my head slightly to look at her, my interest piqued. "Why would you think that?"

The roof begins to crackle. “You guys need to get back behind the truck!” one of the firefighters shouts when the flames finally reach the roof. Spoilsport. But fair enough. The haunted house has officially had its last day of terror. And for once … watching something burn feels exactly like healing. The fire crackles and roars. The burning house exhales a long, thick plume of smoke that climbs slowly into the sky, dark and heavy like a signal sent straight to hell. And here, in the silence of a warm February morning, while the world continues spinning as if nothing happened … I think about death.

Heat washed across my skin. I braced for pain. Instead, warmth settled into my bones. The sensation startled me. The fire felt familiar. Comforting. Like stepping into a house after years spent wandering through winter. The flames twisted and shifted. Slowly, a shape emerged. My breath caught. A dragon stepped from the fire. Every story I had ever heard suddenly seemed inadequate. Its scales gleamed like molten ruby. Massive wings unfolded behind it, vanishing into the darkness overhead. Gold eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my knees weak.