Page 49 of The Death of Kisses

Anna pulled the lighter free, turning it in her fingers like Lee once turned a sharp blade. Around and around I watched. The sharp sound of the lid clicking open registered in my ears a moment later.

Orange glowed across the space between us.

She snuffed the flame and we were once again coated in a shroud of darkness.

Another flick.

Orange again.

Another darkness.

Anna’s eyes transfixed on that small glow. Such a small thing holding her attention far more than I ever could.

I watched as she did it again. And again.

“Anna?” I cried out.

No response.

I looked past her toward the warehouse, dust covered walls, old chemicals in boxes long forgotten. Thick plastic sheets that were scattered around, and all it would take was one tiny flame.

My eyes went wide, I jerked at the hook holding me to the wall.

Anna’s boots scraped against the floor, “I’ll be right back.”

The words should have soothed me, should have steadied the frantic pounding of my heart, but as her footsteps faded into the distance, all I was left with was an overwhelming sense of dread.

A distant pop echoed through the air, then another followed—sharp and sudden. The crackling grew louder, fierce and urgent, as flames started to leap and dance, devouring everything in their path. It was a sound that demanded attention, a cry of chaos and destruction that could not be ignored.

My arms ached painfully, strained beyond the limit in this impossible hold, while my feet fumbled, fighting to swing myself free from the suffocating grip of the heavy utility hook. The flashlight lay a few feet away, useless—powerless to save me.

If I hadn’t been consumed by panic, I might have noticed the tiny shift in the air—the way my body stopped responding to the cold, how the biting wind no longer made my teeth chatter.

Minutes later, smoke curled thickly around my nostrils, choking me anew. Anna was nowhere in sight—lost somewhere beyond reach.

I drew a ragged breath, trying to inhale enough air without inhaling the acrid sting of smoke, each attempt more desperate than the last. I must have done this a dozen times before my eyes caught the flicker—a small, uncontrollable blaze creeping toward me, flames dancing with deadly intent. The sudden pops and cracks of chemicals igniting shattered the silence.

I screamed—my throat raw and ragged, my body staggering like a wounded animal, overwhelmed by fear.

The fire crept closer and closer, a relentless beast devouring everything in its path. No mercy, no mercy at all from such a merciless blaze.

“Anna!” I shouted, my voice cracking as I gasped for air. Choking on the stench of smoke.

There was silence—no footsteps, no sign of her—only the cruel sizzle of flames licking at my feet, flames that forced me to jump and dance to keep from being burned alive.

“Anna!” I cried out again, holding onto the hope that she’d come back, even as doubts strangled that hope tighter.

The flames encircled the wall, creeping higher and higher, devouring the wood with an insatiable hunger. I watched in horror as the wood holding the utility hook—my hands, and I saw it ignite, burning hot and relentless. My heart pounded with fear as I realized how close I was to losing everything—and everyone—myself included.

“HELP!” I roared full of agony. The searing flames licked at my skin, their heat intense and unforgiving, while the handcuffs clamped dark and brutal against my wrist, threatening to crush me. With every ounce of strength I had, I jerked myself free, just as burning wood rained down like fiery missiles, threatening to engulf everything in its path. Fire roared beyond my sight, a relentless beast that fueled my panic. My body spun in frantic search, each heartbeat pounding in my ears, urging me to find Anna—alive, safe, somewhere nearby.

I tore at my tights, my heart pounding as I clung to the fragile hope that, despite the tears and burns, this thin layer might shield me just a little longer from the inferno’s wrath. More than anything, I wanted to save her, to reach her before it was too late.

I threw myself into the mess of the warehouse, dodging collapsing beams and exploding crates that spat out blazing cans in every direction. Every step was a battle, every breath a prayer. And then, amid the inferno’s fury, my eyes locked onto her—Anna—lying motionless beside a beam, vulnerable and still. My heart shattered into a thousand pieces as I saw her there, helpless, and I surged forward with every ounce of ferocity I had left, desperate to pull her out of the dark, to save her from the terrible grasp of the flames.

“Anna!” I shouted with anguish that echoed through every fiber of my being, shaking her fiercely as I searched her cargopants for the elusive handcuff key. I knew I had to act fast—there was a fire raging around us, and time was slipping away, but the handcuffs threatened to trap us forever. When I finally found the key, relief flooded over me, and I tore the cuffs open tossing them far into the distance as if to cast away the nightmare.

“Anna,” I pushed at her, furious with myself that she still wouldn't respond, my heart pounding painfully in my chest. I pressed my ear to her face, clutching for the faintest sign of breath, anything to tell me she was still with me. But silence answered back. Panic overwhelmed me as I rolled her onto her back, my hands shaking to revive her. My mouth pressed urgently to hers, and I hammered my fists against her chest, fighting against the choking smoke that threatened to swallow us whole. I couldn’t afford to stop—even if every second felt like a sacrifice—because her life depended on it. With every frantic breath I shared with her, I clung to hope, praying with every ounce of my soul to wake her from whatever darkness had taken hold.