Little CoffinsMature

The ensuing flames engulfed the Asylum.

Every single life on the property was snuffed out. 

Save one.


Silas.  


The cab pulled up, and a woman stepped out.

A woman with ebony hair, and fair skin, and a figure to envy, and eyes full of fear.

She gazed at the back of Silas's head, as he knelt at the base of the smoldering ruins of his home for six years.

He wept for her.

And she stood behind him.

She opened her mouth and said, "D-don't….Don't be afraid….S-Silas…"

His hands shook. 
The flames surrounding him grew.
He knew the voice, but thought of it as nothing more than the flames taunting him.

"S-Silas….I'm here…"

She reached for him, and her hand shot back as the flames burnt her.  
She cried out and fell to the ground. 

The sound of her scrambling away broke him of his stupor. 

He turned around. 

"ANNE!"

He stood and ran toward her.

Anne screamed and blocked him from view. Hiding in her arms. 

Suddenly, terror overwhelmed her.

She grew silent.

"Anne, please don't…I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…"

She cried quietly and fought him off. 

She raced for the cab and jumped in. 

And again, Silas was alone.


He fell to the ground once more…weeping. 

His tears were relief to the parched pavement once more. This time, they were hot from the heat of the flames within him.

Silas, the firestarter. Lost his beloved, once again, to this cruelty he calls life.

"Anne….please….come back…"

The End

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