October 31, 1902
He laughed manically as his fingers toyed with the taut skin of his brother's neck. Blood poured out in an effusion, staining the crazed young man's hands.
"That's what happens when you play with fire. You should know better by now." William's words were rushed as he swiftly spoke to his eldest brother. "Charles, Charles, Charles." He clicked his tongue to the hard palate on the roof of his mouth. "My dearest Charlie boy."
With the knife delicately residing in the palm of his left hand, his right hand's phalanges pulled the jagged flaps of skin on his brother's neck. "So comforting," he murmured to himself. Abruptly, a muffled scream tore William's attention away from his murdered brother. He directed his gaze to his second oldest brother whom was tied with twine to the fire pole.
"Did… did I hear something?" William inquired cynically. As soon as the last syllable was uttered from his lips, his animate sibling, john, screamed again, but the razors cut his jaws. His body trembled with pure loathing and unsettlement as William gradually approached. "I guess not."
He bent down and carefully cupped his brother's cheeks in his opened palm. "John, our big brother wasn't the best, now was he?" This time, no response was given. William laughed again, and it resonated within the empty confinements of the firehouse station. Still cackling, he managed to mutter, "You killed her." The volume of William's voice was, and soon he was hollering, exasperated, "You killed the love of my life. Joan was talented… beautiful," he took a breath, his chest rapidly rising and falling, "and she loved me!" With every word, William forcefully attacked his own chest with his fists. John visibly cringed, and William took immediate notice. He brought his mouth to John's ear. "You lit her on fire." Several droplets of tears were now cascading down both brothers' cheeks.
Abruptly, William ceased his talking and slid down, allowing his feet to dangle within the circumference of the golden pole. He swung his feet and hummed a tune. "'Tis the gift to be simple, 'tis the gift to be free. 'Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be. And when we find ourselves in the place just right…" his voice cracked as he sustained the higher note that his voice had delved to find. He suddenly cut off his singing and cackled.
William wrapped his rough, calloused hands around the pole and pulled himself closer while wrapping his legs around. The murderer slid down, smirking maliciously. A rusted, tin can with intricate signs lay, discarded, on the ground. Carefully, grasping it within his pal, m he pulled his back up, just as erect as the pole.
"Death sentence." He grazed his tongue over his chapped lips and repeated once more, "Death sentence." While he contemplated the actions he would have to go through to arrive the actual meaning of the words, the lid was gradually being pried open. Inside, rows of matches lay, tightly packed together. "Sentence of death." He rearranged the ordering of the words and his hands lightly ran across the coarse matches.
He hurriedly threw the container on the ground and the orderly row of matches became a disarray on the floor. Cautiously, he picked up one and swiped against the wooden table next to him.
The flame brilliantly danced on the tip of the match, its vibrant colors illuminating his face. William tucked on hand into the pocket of his worn overalls. The other hand lowered the ignited match to the hem of his pants. "I'll see you real soon, Joan, my dear. Nobody can tear us apart," the man said hysterically. His eyes were glazed over and insanity along with despair and anger were present within his orbs as well. He was corrupted by an intentionally cruel act on the innocent: his soon to be wife.
He titled his head upwards and could see his live brother futilely struggling against his restraints. William released his hold on the match. In result, John's attempts quickened in pace. The fire traveled quickly up his body, horribly singeing his pale skin. The table beside him suddenly was alight with the flames; they swiftly engulfed the catalyst in the situation. His body fell to the ground and his lower torso was engulfed within the fire. Beads of seat ran profusely down his forehead.
"One for all; all for one," Volunteer Fireman William Smith stammered calmly before the fire completely enveloped his body and made its way, destroying the firehouse.
Ashes, ashes, they all fall down
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