Page 4 of Burn
I can see her as I close my eyes, her smooth cheeks and her lips covered in my mess, and it’s beautiful. She would look perfect being all white and drenched in it, and the image behind my eyelids makes more run from my cock, covering the plastic card until it’s dripping off it onto my sheets.
Oh fuck yes.
My moment of solitude is broken by the sound of the dispatcher’s tones ringing out loudly in the bunk room. The screeching of the three notes repeating over and over again as I scramble to wipe myself off, dropping the license on my cot mattress as I pull my pants up, smearing what’s left of my cum into the material. I’m scrunching up my nose at the feeling of it as I rip the curtain back and reach for the rest of my clothes.
“Up and at ‘em.” My captain calls out, his heavy booted feet already stomping between the bunks as he claps his hands, rousing everyone that’s not already clamoring for their own clothes and gear.
It’s a whirlwind of action as the six of us rise, dress, and drop down the pole in the middle of the room down into the garage.
The pole ride, it’s something that as a child I always wanted to do. It’s the quintessential thing people think of when they think of firemen, and now I get to do it daily when I’m on duty, and sometimes even when I’m not, because my twisted little brain likes to go to the calls, even if I’m not supposed to. The brothers think I’m just a gung-ho team player, but they don’t realize that I want to be there, to see things burn, to watch them be destroyed even when we try our hardest not to let them be.
Fire is an evil bitch, she claims what she wants without question, and without emotion or fear, even though I believe she’s a living thing. She breathes, eats, and dies. She’s a creature of habit and a user of opportunity waiting to take you and your things with her when she goes, leaving nothing but piles of embers and ash that blow away on the wind, or wash down the drain with the water that was her demise. An evil bitch she really is, and I love her.
Grabbing my gear from the rack on the side wall of the garage, I pull on my jacket and pants, then stomp into my boots before slamming the helmet on my head with my palm. The visor clicks down in place and I’m ready to go, jumping on the back of the truck with one of the other guys who gives me the nod of brotherhood, acknowledging that even though he thinks I’m a creep, he has my back as he knows I have his. With a fist bump, I return the gesture then hold on tight as the truck lurches out of the garage with the sirens wailing out their warning of our coming.
Chapter
Three
The fire is raging when we arrive, her flames swallowing the high rise building like a hungry beast. The sounds of her destroying the wooden frame under the brick façade are loud, like a cackling laughter from the bowels of hell. It’s hot, even through my fireproof uniform, and I can feel the heat warm my skin more than my cum did when it spilt on my flesh. It’s the biggest turn on for me, the warmth of the destroyer that I adore.
She’s feasting on the structure, her tongues of flames licking and tasting the place as we head inside. With my axe in hand, I bust down the front door, backing up when a wave of fire sweeps out towards me, trying to taste me too, just like she savored the flavor of me so many years ago. Her voice is high pitched as I step over the threshold, her screeches echoing through the thick black smoke, telling me where she is, and where her heart lies. It’s like she’s calling to me, using that psychic link her and I have, the one she shares with none of the other guys.
“This way.” I say to my brothers through the coms in our helmets, waving them on with my axed hand, showing them the way with the light on my helmet. “She’s in here.”
Without question they follow me, stepping over flames and burning debris, knowing that I’ll take them right to where she was born, and where she’ll die at their hands and hoses.
My feet crunch through the burnt possessions of the family that lives on the first floor, crushing them into little charred pieces that won’t exist after this fight is over. The floor buckles underneath us, the wood creaking and screaming from the pressure of our weight on its mangled surface. We continue on, the men in the back with the hose blasting the flames that come at us as I lead them through the remnants of a kitchen and out the back door into the hallway that leads to the stairwell.
The metal steps and bare mortar walls act like a fire barrier, in fact they’re called fire walls that are used in structures that house more than one residence. They’re supposed to offer protection to keep a blaze contained to one apartment instead of spreading to the others, but they don’t always work like that. Sometimes they act as a conduit of sorts, like a wormhole that allows the fire to creep from one place to another without leaving a trace behind.
The walls can be cool, and the floors look untouched, but that’s only because she swept through and left no evidence on the grey painted surfaces. But she’s there, lurking behind the doors that flank the landings of the stairs. She’s hiding and waiting for us to open the portals and allow her to jump more aggressively from one place to the next. But I won’t allow it. I’m here to tame her, to bring her to her knees like I bring my victims down, begging for it to end. Only she won’t beg to die, she’ll fight me as hard as my brothers fight her.
Screams come from behind a heavy metal door on the fourth floor, panicked and pained yells that would make a normal person’s skin crawl, but to me, they’re just another sign of where she lies. I bring the men to a halt, waving my axe towards the barrier between us and her, touching the handle with my gloved hand, looking for the scorching heat that I know will be there. She’s inside.
“In here.” I say, taking a deep breath in through the mouthpiece to the air tank I carry on my back, preparing for the suction I know will come just before the blast.
When a fire leaps and jumps, moving from place to place, hiding behind doors, taunting us, there’s always a cat and mouse chase when we get close. The opening of the metal separation between us and her heart will make her pull back, sucking the air from the stairwell, but just as fast, she’ll lash back with a draft of flames before she retreats to her hiding spot again.
I’m here for you my beautiful girl.
“Ready…steady.” I shout to my brothers, squaring my stance, leaning my shoulder to the door, feeling it flex and warp against me, getting a feeling of the power behind it.
Backing up, I kick the door in with my heavy booted foot, and quickly lean to the side, protecting myself behind the wall, watching the swirling smoke suck in through the open doorway, hearing the squeal of the transition. As soon as the smoke disappears, the fire comes. She violently blows her tendrils out towards us, like the multiple tongues from a hydra, licking and reaching for us before they slither back into the residence.
The screams from the people trapped inside become louder, their sounds becoming hoarser from the smoke and the effort in calling out to us.
“Let’s go!” I shout, leading my team in, looking side to side through the dense blackness, seeking out the source of the cries.
There’s two distinct voices. A female and a young male, and I’m transported back in time as I listen to them come from separate sides of the apartment. She’s not with him, he’s alone, just as I was. The fire is coming for him, but fuck her, I’m getting to him first.
Oh no, no, no, no!
I’m shouting to the boy I was as I stomp through the apartment. “Hold on. I’m coming!” I yell, leaving my brothers behind me like I always do.
I let them fight the beast while I save the innocents. I find the ones that are like I was in the past, the ones afraid, the ones trying to back away from their demise. I’m the hero, even though inside I’m nothing of the sorts. I’m a killer, a ruiner, a beast in my own right, but when the fire tries to claim the ones who are just like I was on that night, a switch flips.
“Scream for me again. I need to hear you.” I call out through the smoke, ripping my mouthpiece from my face so I can yell louder, immediately tasting the soot in the thick air, coughing violently from the thickness of it. “Come on buddy, where are you?”
