~Tinder Song~
Ben has practiced this many times. Donned heavy gear, making his way through lonely, dark clouds of smoke, his breaths in the mask echoing back at him.
A sharp cry draws his attention.
Forgetting his training, he fails to poke the stairs as he scales them, only seeking out the terrorized child.
The condemned building is empty; the closet door he throws open holds nothing more than cockroaches that scatter.
The equipment weighs him down.
The stairs have collapsed.
Flames surround him, licking at him, beckoning to him.
Acrid smoke morphs into an undulating siren, her arms open to receive.