I was sitting in my room one evening, solving sudokus when I heard the sound of the front door opening. It wouldn't have been mum or dad because both of them were home and they weren't going out tonight or they would have told me. No one else lived in the house and we weren't supposed to have a visitor that day. No one usually came to my house because it was in the middle of nowhere and we had no neighbours. A visitor out of the blue was a rarity that only happened about once a year or so.

I wanted to know who it was, though I was in no mood for entertaining guests. If what ever this person, or people for that matter, were here for concerned me I would be called down so I lazily stayed where I was. Though the atmosphere in the house was tense and I had goosebumps even though I was wearing pretty warm clothes.

I heard raised voices so eventually my curiosity got the better of me and I grabbed a torch and tiptoed through to the cupboard in which the boiler was kept. In a normal house this would have been a strange thing to do, but my house was certainly not normal. It was very old and I had found several secret tunnels and passages. As quietly as possible I closed the door behind me and turned the torch on. There was only just room for me to stand with the boiler taking up most of the space. To my left the wall stopped half way up to form a ledge that I easily clambered onto. I crawled forward for a few metres before the flat surface turned into a slope and I slid down until I was at the same level as the floor again and turned my torch off.

I stood in a small room with a circle of light coming from the middle of the floor. I walked over to the circle and crouched down. I was looking through a bronze circular grate, about a meter in diameter, which was made up of lots of intricately designed leafs. You could see right through to the living room with this. You could also lift it up if you wanted, but I

I hesitated at first. I had never told them, but this was the day that their numbers had been counting down to. When I look above someone's head I can see their name and some numbers. I had worked out that it was like a time, for example I could look above someone's head and see 5 decades, 4 years, 8 months, 2 weeks, 3 days, 11 hours, 46 minuets and 33 seconds. I worked out that the numbers were counting down and that they never went up but I had no idea what they meant. I decided that I was just being paranoid and looked down.

"If you don't tell me where you've hidden it I swear she dies!" one of the two men in my living room yelled as the other held a knife to my mothers throat.

"I-it's, I don't know where it is." stammered my father. She had 5 seconds. The one who had spoken before nodded. 3... ..2... ..1. Her throat was slit as she slid to the floor her eyes wide in shock.

I froze. It- those numbers, they were how long someone had left to live, their remaining lifespan.

"See what happens when you LIE!" the first man shouted "Is it in the house?" My father just nodded. "WHERE?" he stayed silent. The other man spoke up

"He isn't going to talk, is he?"

"No, he won't" His numbers were at zero as the same knife that had silenced my mother slid through his shoulder blades.

I clenched my fists. No, no, why did this have to happen to me. The two men started to argue and for the first time I thought to look above their heads. They only had 3 minuets left, one a few seconds before the other. I needed to get out before they found me or whatever was going to kill them, got here.

I stood up an only then did I notice that there was my old teddy bear sitting in the corner of the room. It had an envelope leaning against it. It was addressed to me so I opened it and found a note inside. It read:

Son,

Two men are coming to the house, you must escape any way you can but be sure to take teddy, if the worst comes to the worst you have the means to defend yourself. I'm sorry that this is so rushed. Goodbye son, never forget that we love you.

I put the note in my pocket and saw that in the toys grasp was a pack of throwing knifes. I took it and crept back over to the grate. They would be long gone by the time I reached a phone. I needed revenge.

As quietly and as carefully as I could I lifted the grate out of it's place and put it to one side. The two men were still arguing the first of which had only 6 seconds left. It was now or never, in fact it had to be now because there was no other likely cause of death. It had to be me and it had to be now. It was fate. I took aim and threw one of the knifes as hard as I could.

It flew down and sank into his neck. He fell to the floor, choking until he fell silent. I had no time to think before the second mans numbers reached zero and he befell a similar fate as his friend.

I-I had killed someone. I had murdered two men. If they were found like this forensics would find out that it was me. Hang on a minuet. Those knifes, they had wooden handles. I could burn the handles off, but there would be no obvious cause. I couldn't take them because even if I burned them and buried them, I would just create more fingerprints; some one would probably find where I buried it anyway. That settled it, it was the only way.

I took the bag and made my way out of the secret room and downstairs. There was a stain where the four bodies lay which was gradually getting bigger. I was mesmerised by the intricate patterns of the ever so slightly different shades of scarlet. It really was a proper red, not like the red that you get in clothes or food or computer graphics, this was a really deep red, not a dark red, but like the colour had been compressed into a purer red.

An idea suddenly popped into my head, but I started and realised how wrong my thoughts were. Nevertheless it couldn't hurt to try. Just a little bit. I might as well take advantage of the opportunity. I crouched down by the ever growing puddle of blood and dipped my little finger in so there was only the tiniest drop.

Slowly I lifted my hand to my mouth. It tasted metallic, like if you suck on a copper coin, but warm. It was slightly salty. I needed just one more taste, it was like if you put a grain of salt into your mouth and until it dissolves and the taste disappears, and even though the taste of it isn't entirely pleasant you still take another grain and another. I let the metallic taste spread out over my tongue and disappear. I kept taking more and more, now scooping it up with my first and middle finger.

I stopped in horror as the puddle of blood reached my toes. What on earth was I doing? This was so wrong; I looked at the blood on my hands in disgust. My parents had died, I had killed two men and now I was drinking a cocktail of their blood! I couldn't bring myself to lick the blood off my fingers so I washed my hands in the kitchen sink not forgetting to clean my toes. To get the taste out of my mouth I drunk a huge glass of water then put a sugar cube in my mouth. The extreme sweetness made me feel better and I set to work about what I had to do.

I took the box of matches from the kitchen. I walked around my house starting from the top floor and working my way to the front door, lighting matches and laying them down on material and other flammable objects. I walked to the top of the hill and watched my house slowly burn, lighting up the night sky. The more it burned the more of my feelings and happy memories in that house turned to ash. I don't know how long I sat there, leaning against the tree for, but I watched as it blazed high into the sky and the entire house was engulfed on flames.

That was the day I died in the fire, and out of the flames Beyond Birthday was born.