Casey just kept on feeding the papers to the fire, one by one. She didn't care anymore what the plans were. She was in a trance, pick up the paper, stick it in the fire. The fire was chuckling wickedly and gladly ate the papers. Casey heard a key go into a lock but didn't stop, just kept on burning the plans. The person trying to open the door walked in. Without having to look back, Casey knew it was Valence. She could almost hear the swish of her long hair as she turned around and walked toward her front room, where Casey was still bent over the file. The next few minutes went by too fast. The room exploded, Casey was sure of it. She heard screaming, screeching, and words that were not intended for delicate ears like hers. Just to make a point, the fire reached out and tagged Casey's sleeve, which instantly exploded up her arm. Casey screamed and did the most sensible thing, stop drop and roll. Casey had always made fun of the guy in a giant Dalmatian costume, saying, "So remember kids, Sparky says stop drop and roll when you're on fire!", but it actually worked. Honest to god, her flaming arm was extinguished within seconds. While Casey had been busy with that, Valence had picked up what was left of her plans and tried to make a run for it, but the fire was not finished playing yet. It decided to catch a ride with the hem of Valence's skirt. Valence pulled off the skirt and threw it into the fire. Much to Casey's relief, Valence always wore a underskirt. She threw her burned skirt into the fire, and tried to make a run for it. The overfed fire was having fun now, jumping out of the fire place and touching things with its long, orange fingers. Casey's asthma kicked in, and she wondered, was I going to die here? Surrounded by fire? What would Molly do? The thought of Molly made her eyes tear, although it was mostly because of the thickening smoke. Casey knew she had to get out. But if she left the room like this, than the whole building would burn down. Coughing, Casey flew out to the porch, grabbed some fresh air and the hose, and ran back in. She was like a sprinkler, running water over everything. When she finally turned the hose off, a lot of the smoke had cleared out the open porch door, and some out the front. No smoke detectors were on. It was eerily silent in the building, not a sound stirred the air. But she should have known it wouldn't last. One second, she was resting her head against one of the only walls that hadn't been touched by the hungry fire, and the next, sound was everywhere. Medics carried her on a stretcher into an ambulance and firefighters came with giant hoses, but were a bit disappointed that they couldn't get to do anything. Fire alarms roared and screeched. Someone stuck a plastic thing on her face to help her breathe. Any other day, she would have objected, but today she didn't even have the strength to lift her finger. The medics left one by one, switching off lights and pressing buttons. Valence walked in, a cruel smile plastered on her face. She heard her voice, dripping with false sympathy. "Did you have fun?" Valence stuck a needle into the bag of fluid that was connected to the IV that was dripping into her wrist. Suddenly, she began to feel drowsy. But not your every day darn-I'm-tired drowsy. Casey was not thinking right, and she didn't see anything wrong with the situation. All she felt like doing was going to sleep. In the straining light of her consciousness, Casey heard Valence croon, "Good night my pretty," and Casey could think of no better thing to do. So with a sigh, she closed her eyes and fell asleep. Forever. She never opened her eyes again.