Fire and Ice
By Spectral Scribe
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A flash. A bang.
God, no. Anything but this. Anything but smelling his burnt flesh and seeing his ashy remnants scatter over the floor, the only evidence of his existence. Anything but the hollow void he'd leave behind—what Mom left, and Dad.
There's silence, stillness. Maybe…?
A second flash. A bigger bang.
Heat rushes against my back as it fans outward, and I can do nothing to stop the horror rising in my throat, gagging me as I try to draw in a breath, to scream. There's pain, god no, please, FUCK!
I'm alone.
He's dead. Sam is dead.
