Each thick black breath burned my chest. I stepped over the charring carcasses of Klaus and Astrid. The blonde hairs on their head curled and turned gray. Ten year old Klaus made every day a joy to me. His musical talents on the piano and excellent marks in school made me proud. Astrid, only eight, had already made known her beautiful singing voice. She sang every syllable, as if she were a bird. My children were the most important thing in my life, after my husband Viktor. He didn't make much money. However, it was enough for us to live comfortably.
I walked down the stairs. Each step groaned under the slightest weight. I had climbed these stairs every time I put my children to bed. I walked straight into the heart of the inferno. The metal chair held the blackened corpse of Viktor. His broiled, hairless head leaned back in his last screams of anguish. He was in the exact same spot as I left him, in his kitchen chair. I felt the pain from the bruise on my left cheek. He wouldn't allow me to tie him to the chair without some sort of a brawl. It took three hits for me to shatter the antique lamp over his head. I kissed his forehead before I lit the fire under his chair. I still tasted his blood on my lips. When I inhaled the stench of burning hair and flesh, my stomach turned in knots. The nausea made me feel warm and happy inside. My beautiful children and darling husband were permanently asleep. I was satisfied in my accomplishment.
I stepped through a wall of embracing flames to get outside. I recognized my first step of destroying this wretched city as the pyre devoured my townhouse. Before I could destroy others, I had to destroy myself. I had to make certain that no reason for me to live existed. I annihilated my family, my shelter, and, ultimately, my life.
I turned around and looked at the surrounding buildings holding the next victims. I watched the sky bleed ashes. The black snow coated the buildings. I clutched two books of matches in my left hand and a full gas can in the other.
I ventured into the alley where I kept a small collection of wooden crates. I had seen my neighbor Gisela raped by Viktor in this alley. I wish that were the reason for my sudden interest in the psychopathic world. I soaked the pile in fuel and tossed the gas can aside. It only took two matches to set the wood ablaze.
I caught a tear on my ring finger. The salty tear, blackened by the soot on my face, tasted of smoked jerky. I couldn't understand why I was crying. I was overjoyed, not sad. In fact, I couldn't wait for the next house. The excitement bubbled up inside of me. With something as simple and plentiful as matches, I had the power to flood the streets with bodies. The trees were my torches and the matches were my ammunition. Alone, I could ignite the single flame that brought this city to its knees.
I swelled with overwhelming emotion. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, my heart pounded faster. I would die with the ashes of my family in my lungs. This inferno prevented the city entering in darkness. And I wouldn't stop until this certain flame shone large and bright. I lit my next match.