AN: This is a character history I'd done for Carlos in Monsters Underneath. The format for the story was going to focus on each character and then mold their stories together. Anyway, this was something I'd come up with while listening to Pyromania by Cascada. Leave me a review if you enjoyed it.
When Carlos was 5 years old, he set his curtains on fire with his plastic magnifying glass, he sat in a corner watching the flames eat up the fabric and how they licked the ceiling and made cracks in his window. His brown eyes were wide as they took in the beauty of the flames and cried loudly when his father grabbed him from his corner and taking him out of the room while his uncle and brother were doing their best to extinguish the flames.
That was when Carlos had fallen in love with fire.
When he was 10 he'd use pencil erasers and rub his arm until the skin would warm, scar and burn. But there were no flames, no beautiful gold, red and yellow flames licking at his skin. He wanted (needed) to know how fire would feel destroying his flesh.
But his parents hid the matches and lighters from him and made sure to barricade the fire place, (after he tried to crawl into it while the fire was burning so brightly; he swore that the blaze was begging him to come closer) so he wouldn't burn himself or the house down. And his magnifying glass was only good for burning ants, spiders and leaves.
He needed (wanted) matches; he needed to make himself burn.
When he's 15 he manages to steal the lighter out of his brother's leather jacket and holds the beautiful flame to his tongue and groans in ecstasy at the pain that touches his tongue and races through his body. Oh how good it felt, now he knew why his parents were hiding his love from him.
Then he held that beautiful dancing flame to his forearm and moaned as it danced on his skin leaving it red, black and blistered. He was shaking, forehead trickling with sweat, his breaths shallow, quick and desperate.
He looked out his window and his old swing set caught his eye, the delirious smirk that drew itself onto his innocent face was enough to make Satan tremble. Quickly he ran outside his brother's lighter clutched tightly in his hand as he made his way to the wood and plastic swing set.
His pupils were dilated (not that he would know), his heart was hammering loudly in his chest, his entire body on edge for the show that would come, flicking the flame back in place he held it to the wood and waited for the inferno to take over. But that didn't happen not right away and looking back towards his house he caught sight of the grill and the bottle of lighter fluid next to it.
Carlos grinned manically and grabbed at the bottle making speedy work of dousing the swing set with the flammable liquid, when the bottle was empty he tossed it aside and held the lighter to the object and squealed in delight as the thing caught on fire.
The red and orange flames danced in front of his eyes, the heat brushing against him like a gentle caress. His eyelids fluttered, his body full of lust for that beautiful inferno in front of him, he moaned when he stuck his hand into the blaze. The pain of his skin catching on fire felt far better than his first kiss.
He would have dove into the flames completely had his neighbors not called the fire department. He was sent to the hospital where they bandaged his hand and diagnosed him with Pyromania. At first he didn't understand, but then he was told that he'd be sent to the Palm Woods Mental Institute to get better.
But Carlos didn't want to get better, he wanted (needed) to feel that lovely flame against his tongue, he wanted it to fill his throat; he wanted it to caress and to destroy his body.
Carlos just wanted to burn.
Hope you enjoyed this story. Other fics will be updated soon. Leave a review and thanks for reading. xoxo