The flame in my fingers trembled like that poor girl’s eyes. And before one could blink, the matchstick was consumed to fuel the rage of that fire as it engulfed my hand, burning my palm. My knees buckled and steps slid as I turned around whilst lowering myself. An arm passed by my head, whilst my burning hand barely grazed the attacker of my student, but I was not very keen on letting them go. I pushed myself forward with all my being. The burning hand drew a fiery curve upwards, and in agony, I could feel the sensation of touch. I hold the cursed thing... I knew it was in my hand even before I could lay eyes on it. ‘Incinerate.’ The flames flared to my command, and a horrifying howl filled the air alongside a low whine. It was no human.
I cast my magic, softening the ground under its feet, breaking its footing. The flames rose as it fell to the ground, travelling across its body, burning its fur and all that beneath. It tried to rise, and though I was no match, I still persevered to force it down. I pushed and I pushed with all my being. The burning hand that held its throat was in no less pain, but still, I did not allow complacency. I held on for life, hers over mine.
Its eyes did not leave mine even as blood-chilling sounds escaped its jaw, piercing the surroundings. The air was filled with tremble and fury. And only the bloody girl could see the sight of a man burning a beast.
The wrathful flames consumed it whole, engulfing every bit. Even those terrifying vertically slit irises were not spared. ‘Incinerate.’ Flames erupted once more in maddening rage. They danced, blowing a stifling and fetid smoke in their frenzy. The smell demanded I vomit, but I stood, hunching over that terrifying, howling beast. I kept my eyes on it, not letting it escape. Only the flames shone in them.
***
A minute and two must have passed when I came to my senses. The burning thing was moving no more. It was a corpse now. Dead… I looked over it once, pondering if I should continue burning it, but my hand was still in flames and the sensation had turned threefold. I do not have long before it turns worse… Ms Lasfield! I looked around, appalled to my core.
The girl still lay there, vomiting blood little by little. The locks of her brilliant blonde hair were stained with her own blood. Drenched in red, they looked darker than they ever should. No more did she look at me; her eyes were empty, lifeless.
‘No, no, no, no, no!’ I rushed to her but slipped and fell into the pool of blood. My sides and chin hurt, yet somehow, I scrambled towards her. My oily, sweaty face was smeared with her blood.
I quickly checked her pulse with my unharmed hand. It was very weak. She was alive still. ‘Apologies, Ms Lasfield,’ I said to the unconscious girl, struggling to unbutton her suit and shirt. I knew her survival depended on me, and I also knew some chose dignity over life. But that is not your choice, I thought. It is mine — your mentor’s. I gave up very early and instead tore open the shirt. There, right over the naval, was a long, open wound that spewed blood. In fear of the worst, I dug my fingers in. It was deep, but her organs seemed fine. It should not harm. The dying flames of my hand rose once again. I wiped my bloody hand and forced it into the girl’s mouth. I took a breath in preparation for pain and worse.
‘You must wake up, now, Ms Lasfield,’ I said as my burning palm pressed against the ghastly wound. ‘Please do not die.’ A sizzling sound came, accompanied by sudden pain and muffled screams. Ms Lasfield had woken up, biting on my hand. It hurt; it very much hurt. ‘Please do not fall asleep, Ms Lasfield,’ I pleaded to the girl while her consciousness alternated between present and nought.
In pain, she would lose consciousness, and in pain, she would wake. Whenever she came to her senses, she would quiver and scream in anguish. It was a cycle of pain and suffering, and the enforcer — that was I — did not allow her any respite.
She is not waking, I thought and I shook her. When she remained unconscious, I flared the flames more intensely, jerking her awake. She tried to speak something, tried to plead. Forgive me, but I shan’t stop. And, I continued, again and again.
Before the girl fell unconscious for the last time, I managed to cauterise her wound. My back was drenched and both of us had breathed a fair amount of smoke from my earlier adventure. I needed to leave along with the girl. And I needed to leave fast.
I doused my hands in the thick pool of blood. The pain that stung was far worse, and I screamed as my eyes watered. My whole arm twitched; the bitten fingers hurt; the back needed rest; sweat, tears, and blood had marred my vision, and the other hand was burnt to an unsightly degree. I could tell, with one glance, that it was never to recover.
But somehow, I recovered hope and struggled to my feet while carrying the poor girl’s body in my arms. She was extremely light, even for the likes of me. Her body was small and no more than skin and bones. She has lost too much blood. My feet trembled under our combined weight and the cursed consciousness threatened to fade. Walk… And so, I walked.
My legs quickened with each step, and soon, I found myself running towards the entrance of the building. Using the wind, I blasted the door open. Do not cut my pay, Dean. I do not have three arms. I thought it would have sounded funny had there not been a girl in my arms.
Just outside the door, I found Ms Orchard holding back a loud child. I could not hear what they spoke as the only sound that entered my ears was my own breathing and the dripping of blood, but I knew, that expression was of a vastly horrified person. In their eyes was a bloodstained man holding a bloody child, each with a blood-soaked ponytail.
I ignored them all and rushed towards the central area, shaking off the petrified gazes. Mr Quincy had mentioned where the Medical department was located, and I had hoped that they were conspicuous and far prepared. I had placed all my belief in those words as I kept telling the girl, Please, do not die. Like a witless child, I kept pleading, and I hoped, and I prayed while my sight became blurry, and the ringing turned me deaf.
The winding, paved path and the lilac trees that I loved did nothing to console me as I ran towards a dwindling hope, embracing a child on the verge of death.
The flame in my fingers trembled like that poor girl’s eyes. And before one could blink, the matchstick was consumed to fuel the rage of that fire as it engulfed my hand, burning my palm. My knees buckled and steps slid as I turned around whilst lowering myself. An arm passed by my head, whilst my burning hand barely grazed the attacker of my student, but I was not very keen on letting them go. I pushed myself forward with all my being. The burning hand drew a fiery curve upwards, and in agony, I could feel the sensation of touch. I hold the cursed thing... I knew it was in my hand even before I could lay eyes on it. ‘Incinerate.’ The flames flared to my command, and a horrifying howl filled the air alongside a low whine. It was no human.
I cast my magic, softening the ground under its feet, breaking its footing. The flames rose as it fell to the ground, travelling across its body, burning its fur and all that beneath. It tried to rise, and though I was no match, I still persevered to force it down. I pushed and I pushed with all my being. The burning hand that held its throat was in no less pain, but still, I did not allow complacency. I held on for life, hers over mine.
Its eyes did not leave mine even as blood-chilling sounds escaped its jaw, piercing the surroundings. The air was filled with tremble and fury. And only the bloody girl could see the sight of a man burning a beast.
The wrathful flames consumed it whole, engulfing every bit. Even those terrifying vertically slit irises were not spared. ‘Incinerate.’ Flames erupted once more in maddening rage. They danced, blowing a stifling and fetid smoke in their frenzy. The smell demanded I vomit, but I stood, hunching over that terrifying, howling beast. I kept my eyes on it, not letting it escape. Only the flames shone in them.
***
A minute and two must have passed when I came to my senses. The burning thing was moving no more. It was a corpse now. Dead… I looked over it once, pondering if I should continue burning it, but my hand was still in flames and the sensation had turned threefold. I do not have long before it turns worse… Ms Lasfield! I looked around, appalled to my core.
The girl still lay there, vomiting blood little by little. The locks of her brilliant blonde hair were stained with her own blood. Drenched in red, they looked darker than they ever should. No more did she look at me; her eyes were empty, lifeless.
‘No, no, no, no, no!’ I rushed to her but slipped and fell into the pool of blood. My sides and chin hurt, yet somehow, I scrambled towards her. My oily, sweaty face was smeared with her blood.
I quickly checked her pulse with my unharmed hand. It was very weak. She was alive still. ‘Apologies, Ms Lasfield,’ I said to the unconscious girl, struggling to unbutton her suit and shirt. I knew her survival depended on me, and I also knew some chose dignity over life. But that is not your choice, I thought. It is mine — your mentor’s. I gave up very early and instead tore open the shirt. There, right over the naval, was a long, open wound that spewed blood. In fear of the worst, I dug my fingers in. It was deep, but her organs seemed fine. It should not harm. The dying flames of my hand rose once again. I wiped my bloody hand and forced it into the girl’s mouth. I took a breath in preparation for pain and worse.
‘You must wake up, now, Ms Lasfield,’ I said as my burning palm pressed against the ghastly wound. ‘Please do not die.’ A sizzling sound came, accompanied by sudden pain and muffled screams. Ms Lasfield had woken up, biting on my hand. It hurt; it very much hurt. ‘Please do not fall asleep, Ms Lasfield,’ I pleaded to the girl while her consciousness alternated between present and nought.
In pain, she would lose consciousness, and in pain, she would wake. Whenever she came to her senses, she would quiver and scream in anguish. It was a cycle of pain and suffering, and the enforcer — that was I — did not allow her any respite.
She is not waking, I thought and I shook her. When she remained unconscious, I flared the flames more intensely, jerking her awake. She tried to speak something, tried to plead. Forgive me, but I shan’t stop. And, I continued, again and again.
Before the girl fell unconscious for the last time, I managed to cauterise her wound. My back was drenched and both of us had breathed a fair amount of smoke from my earlier adventure. I needed to leave along with the girl. And I needed to leave fast.
I doused my hands in the thick pool of blood. The pain that stung was far worse, and I screamed as my eyes watered. My whole arm twitched; the bitten fingers hurt; the back needed rest; sweat, tears, and blood had marred my vision, and the other hand was burnt to an unsightly degree. I could tell, with one glance, that it was never to recover.
But somehow, I recovered hope and struggled to my feet while carrying the poor girl’s body in my arms. She was extremely light, even for the likes of me. Her body was small and no more than skin and bones. She has lost too much blood. My feet trembled under our combined weight and the cursed consciousness threatened to fade. Walk… And so, I walked.
My legs quickened with each step, and soon, I found myself running towards the entrance of the building. Using the wind, I blasted the door open. Do not cut my pay, Dean. I do not have three arms. I thought it would have sounded funny had there not been a girl in my arms.
Just outside the door, I found Ms Orchard holding back a loud child. I could not hear what they spoke as the only sound that entered my ears was my own breathing and the dripping of blood, but I knew, that expression was of a vastly horrified person. In their eyes was a bloodstained man holding a bloody child, each with a blood-soaked ponytail.
I ignored them all and rushed towards the central area, shaking off the petrified gazes. Mr Quincy had mentioned where the Medical department was located, and I had hoped that they were conspicuous and far prepared. I had placed all my belief in those words as I kept telling the girl, Please, do not die. Like a witless child, I kept pleading, and I hoped, and I prayed while my sight became blurry, and the ringing turned me deaf.
The winding, paved path and the lilac trees that I loved did nothing to console me as I ran towards a dwindling hope, embracing a child on the verge of death.
