First Installment of New Serial Story Series: Fireside

I am starting a new serial story series called Fireside. Read below for the first installment of the series. I hope you enjoy!

Yellow-orange flames lick at the side of Audrey’s satin nightgown but she fails to stir. Audrey isn’t moving at all. The flame finds purchase on a fluffy strand-the cord that would cinch the nightgown around Audrey’s waist. The fluffy fibers are like kindling, letting the fire explode speedily up Audrey’s nightgown, causing the nightgown to catch and spark suddenly. But still, Audrey doesn’t move, not even as the fire begins to eat past the thin fabric, circling its way past her head and onto the leather sofa she is lying on.

It is only when the fire begins to burn away at Audrey’s hair, working its way down to her scalp that she feels the faint stirring of something, causing her hand to swat absent-mindley upwards. Then, as if a bolt of lightning had just struck Audrey she bolts up, her eyes wide. Soon Audrey is frantically swatting all over her body, throwing the nightgown which is still on her, still roasting her alive, off her body. Audrey swats frantically at her hair, the throbbing burn marks on her skin feeling like colossal rubber band stings. She manages to get the fire to stop burning her hair, but scalds her hands in the process.

Audrey looks around her apartment. She screams, both in physical pain but also in sheer blind horror. Audrey’s whole apartment is covered in a hazy shimmering smoke. The acrid smell of burning plastic and gasoline hits Audrey’s noise, making her feel lightheaded. Audrey knew to get down low, so she went prone, her brain still jumbled up from just waking up. Her body still throbbing with pain, almost unmanageable, the pain like the smoke makes Audrey want to black out. But she doesn’t, she knows she needs to get out of the apartment if she has any hope of surviving.

She keeps crawling on her belly, forced to crawl on burnt forearms, rubbing them raw against the searing floor. Audrey can’t figure out where her door is but she tries to use landmarks. “That is the coffee table, that’s where I left my tote bag, there’s the shoes…” before Audrey knows it she’s reached the front door. But, now Audrey has another dilemma, she always heard that you couldn’t just open the door with your bare hands. But if you couldn’t do that how were you supposed to open it?

Audrey is having a hard time trying to think between the pain, and the grogginess, and the smoke and fire roaring around her, burning her apartment to ash.

She remembers, at last, that she needs to cover her hand with something, anything to prevent scalding it, that she should try to open the door while remaining as low as possible to the ground. Audrey grabs the nearby tote bag, using the shoulder straps to fasten it around her hand. Audrey reaches up for the door knob and misses it, the heat is so much more intense above her head. It causes her to cringe and fling her arm backwards. For a moment Audrey remains paralyzed by the door, the tote bag wrapped around her hand, her body trembling. Then, she reaches upward again, finds the doorknob, and twists. For a moment, the totebag causes her grip to slip somewhat but eventually the door swings open.

Audrey pushes open the door and crawls out in the hallway, there’s no smoke out here. But just to be safe Audrey crawls out her apartment, down the finely carpeted floors of the luxury apartment complex. Finally, Audrey rises to her feet, looks back at the flames which are now shooting out of her apartment and begins to run down the stairs and out of the building.