Sealed by Fire

Prologue

Prologue

Her breasts were on fire. Why in the hell are my breasts on fire? Slowly, Shelly’s faculties came back online. She tried to take a breath, but then her lungs caught fire as well. She must be sleeping while her house burned down around her. Why isn’t the smoke detector going off? Why can’t I wake up? Wake up! But no matter how hard she willed herself to open her eyes, her body wouldn’t move. She was going to burn alive, completely aware of it, and unable to do anything to save herself. 

As the thought threatened to drive her mad, she felt flames licking at her feet. They took hold and traveled up her body. The flames sped over her calves, her thighs, and then up her hips and stomach. The burning reached her chest but didn’t slow. It moved right on to her neck, her face, and finally, it covered the top of her head. This isn’t fair. I should be stopping, dropping, and rolling, but I can’t even move. All those drills in kindergarten were for nothing. 

Damn furry, gluteus maximus, son of a teet.  Shelly mentally cursed Smokey the Bear and his “prevent forest fire” mantra only because she needed someone to curse, and he seemed the most logical culprit. At least in her panic-driven, pain-filled mind. 

The pain increased, and she wondered why she was still alive. Shouldn’t I have burned up by now? How long does it take the human body to burn to death? That would have been helpful information to know. At least she would know how long her torture would last. And if burning alive didn’t kill her quickly enough—and it obviously wasn’t—then maybe they should have taught how long it took to die from smoke inhalation. Then, at least she could breathe deeper to hopefully hasten her demise. Just die already. If she couldn’t force herself to wake up, then maybe she could end her life faster by willing it so. 

Good grief. You know things are bad when you are trying to will yourself to die.

She wished she could move, even if it were just to flail about like an i***t. Anything would be better than being frozen in her burning flesh. As the frustration built inside of her, Shelly found herself screaming every profanity she could think of, though it was only in her mind, since she had no control over her body. She let the pain overtake her, and rage followed on anger’s heels. When she was exhausted from screaming, she cried. And when she didn’t have the energy left to cry, she just burned.