firaafics (firaafics) wrote,

Arson Arrest

Written during the fires, in Creative Writing. The smoke was really messing with my head.
She lifted her head to the darkening sky, a howl pushing past her lips and reaching the heavens, the sound guttural and raw.
Cry, cry, it’ll do you no good.
Full of anguish, anger, and something else. A question, simple, but left unanswered.
The nearby bodies of those she had slaughtered could not answer her, and had they still been alive, they would just ignore this confusing mix of pain and happiness. Pleased with her work.
No, they would’ve laughed.
Screamed at this terror.
That was why she killed each one of them, slaughtering them like the disgusting filth of animals that they were. Tat they had thought she was. Ignorant lambs, and by the blood caked on her hands, and the near-feral, but oh so sane look in her eyes, intelligent in that way only a completely madwoman’s eyes can by, she was the wolf.
No, not wolf. That was tame.
Harbinger. Much better.
Smoke finally reached her nose, and she released her head, which had been clutched in panic when she had realized how deep, how severe her crime was. Genocide, arson… she was sure there was more on that list.
Did it matter, though, really?
Of course not. No enforcer lived to punish her.
She had made sure.
It would only serve to further bog her mind down with completely useless crap they had once insisted on filing it with. God knew –whatever god hadn’t gone up in a flash of flicker and flame- that she didn’t need more guilt.
Remorse? Guilt?
Nah, nevermind that.
They had deserved it, asking for it in the mocking looks, and teasing laughter that had towered over her
Much like the towers of smoke did now
and made her feel much like an animal caged. They had CRIED for her gasoline and matches, and steadily the columns of smoke had stretched thin, into walls
that she so very much hated.
Once more, she was trapped, trapped, but due to her own carelessness, not the gleefulness of those whose minds were so infinitely inferior.
Higher, higher.
The gray walls were stretching higher, and starting to cascade in on her, unable to support their own weightlessness.
She’d be weightless soon enough.
She whimpered, realizing just how close the walls were getting. The fire was moving inward.
Where she was.
Trapped, trapped.
Why, she could even hear each building collapsing in on itself, when it could no long sate the flames’ neverending hunger.
She’d feed it. The sooner the better, actually.
Stop making this so drawn out, oh gods found in the smoke’s frame.
Her rage consumed her, her fury and taste for revenge, in the end.
Ate her all up in one quick puff of fiery ash, and she was done, along with the fire.
What a fitting end for such a monster.
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