Fire and monday

Reads: 479  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Its my first major short story.

Submitted: December 08, 2009

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 08, 2009

A A A

A A A


That big ball of Fire? Its not the Sun. It’s a Fireball.
It’s Monday morning, and it sucks already. I’m hungry, late for work, and it’s early.
Fucking great.
 I rub my eyes, and reach down onto the floor underneath my seat to grope around for my nametag. Finding the little piece of plastic, I pulled it up, and made sure it didn’t  have any food on it. Every time I look at my nametag, I get a little upset. It’s not because the thing brands me as an underpaid overworked retail employee with a bad habit of not listening to people, it’s because some dumbass at corporate decided “Erin” was the most appropriate way to spell my name. Its Aaron. I'm not a girl. I don’t look like a girl. Despite the total lack of interest in; sports, cars, sport cars, girls and bodybuilding, I’m the perfect image of a modern man.
Grumbling in annoyance, I approach a red light and sigh. Although I'm already late, this doesn’t help. I reached over to turn my stereo on when I notice the driver of the gold Honda on my right. Long blonde hair and a pretty face left me with no doubt about who drove the car. Rebecca Write is a bitch. Her mommy and daddy have more money than they can give away, so she’s super rich. I’m sure she purges to keep her killer body, and it’s because of said killer body she has boys falling over each other to ask her on a date. I've seen her around sense freshmen year, and even then I realized how stupid she is.  I've never actually talked to her, but she always just stands there when I get made fun of. I don’t hate High school because of the bullies, I hate it because no one has the courage to stand up to them.
As I stared at her with the utmost revolution, I considered how much effort it would take for me to flip her car. I'm pretty scrawny, and more undernourished then in shape, but I've got a trick up my sleeve. I'm a mage. A real old fashioned spellslinger, the kind you hear about in fairy tales and fantasy stories. The kind of bad ass that makes you remember the name Merlin, and why the wizard in your Dungeons and Dragons campaign should your best friend. At lest, that’s what I tell myself at night. In reality I’m not too strong in the ways of the Arcane, but I can still kick ass when I need to.
Now let me tell you something, I have an eye for subtle thing in life. I'm rarely surprised, and I can’t tell you the last time someone managed to sneak up on me. So when I notice several people running away from their cars, tripping over each other in panic and screaming in terror, the little voice in the back of my head told me something was wrong. Right about that time, I happened to notice a very bright spot out of the corner of my eye. Being quite a curios bloke I turn to look at said bright spot. A fireball, in all its destructive glory was headed my way. Not a flaming spitwad or a rogue firework, a true creation of magic and the primordial forces that shape our world.
Oh shit.
After my initial shock, I realized I shouldn’t just sit there staring stupidly at my oncoming death, so without much to defend myself with I did the only thing I could think to do. I rolled the windows up. The fire couldn't have enough heat to slag the metal in my car, or melt the windows. Thus I would be safe. At least, that’s what I had been hoping
Adrenalin is a very powerful force. Usually it takes me an awful lot of time to muscle the windows of my car how I want them. Without power windows I have to manually roll them up and down, and I'm just not that strong. Staring down the face of a very deadly inferno trimmed that time down to about two seconds. Just as the cascade of fire engulfed my car, I managed to safely conceal myself inside. I had to clamp my eyes shut, and even still the light burned my eyes. Smiling inwardly at my creativity I waited for the storm to pass.
 True to form, I had neglected to think about the whole picture. I forgot about the, “I'm in a car with all the windows up, and I’m being cooked like a turkey in an oven” aspect of my situation.  Not to mention that the heat outside sucked all the air out of my lungs, so I was suffocating too. So there I am, being suffocated and baked alive when I notice another small thing. The miniature conflagration that had been melting my car…it wasn’t moving. Not continuing its motion, not doing anything, just sitting there.  This is where I take the time to ask some hard questions, like why did I even get up this morning?
 After who knows how long, the gout of flame that had consumed my car suddenly went out. Throwing open the door I attempted to nimbly leap from my vehicle and land facing my opponent. Turns out,  I fumbled with the door handle for a few moments in panic and fell out of the car, howling in pain as my leg touched scorched metal. A cackle of laughter brought my attention to a man standing across the street, wearing blue jeans, and a blue jacket with the hood up. Some tufts of his curly red hair were peeking out of his hood, and even though I couldn't see his face, I knew him.
Richard Glent, was crazy. He was probably crazy from the day he was born. What makes that worse is that he is a hell of a lot smarter than me, and a whole lot stronger too. What he has in brain and brawn he lacks in humility, the cocky bastard thinks he can’t be killed. He's the type to monologue before killing the hero, and that’s the reason I've beat him before. It’s also the reason I'm going to beat him today.
 “Guess I should have known, you never could take me in a fair fight” I called.
I had forgotten how fast he could move. Even before I finished the sentence, he had started a headlong charging across the now deserted stretch of road between us, calling fourth more fire to incinerate me. Just before I sprung my trap, a car went sailing over my head. A little baffled, I could only gawk in confusion as a gold Honda completed its original upward momentum, and began to fall directly toward the psychopath trying to kill me.
Just before his head collided with several tons of steel, plastic and one tropical air freshener he made his move. Thrusting his hands toward the flying car, he cried out in a language I didn’t understand. The Honda suddenly erupted into flames, the metal glowing white hot beneath the hell fire that had consumed it. The entire car melted into nothing but flaming goop in less than a second. The onslaught of liquid metal continued its momentum, and engulfed Richard is lake of fire. For a handful of moments the intensity of the heat forced me to look away. Squinting my eyes, I looked behind me, trying to figure out what the hell just saved my life. The bulk of my car blocked my view, but I could see Rebecca’s shoes and legs.
I didn’t see her car.
Furrowing my brow, I got to my feat, and looked at her through my car windows.  As I looked at her, I realized that she wasn’t standing with her usual air incompetence, she looked ready for battle. Her feet were staggered, and she had a slight bend to her knees. Momentarily shocked, I began to ask her what she had done, when more laughter brought my attention back to Richard.
“That was a good Trick Aaron.” He called. “I'm surprised how much stronger you’ve gotten.”
Apparently, the ability to conjure fire also makes you immune to fire, as he stepped out of the lake of molten hot metal looking completely unharmed. I would have to remember that.
“I'm just full of surprises today.” I jeered back. Realizing that I wouldn’t have a chance to get him any closer, I began to formulate a different plan. My breath came in short gasps, and I was afraid. I had never heard of someone being able to melt a car, much less watch as it happened in less than a second. I realized that I had not been taking Richard seriously. Taking a deep calming breath, I felt myself begin to relax. I'm not sure how everyone else does it, but I need to be calm to use my power effectively. Something about too many emotions makes it harder for me to do work.
“Alright Dick, let’s play.” I said.
Something about being called “Dick” is especially irritating to Richard. I think it’s because of his repressed homosexual feelings. I've never had the chance to confirm this, but from the way he reacts, it sure makes senses to me.
His face split into a snarl, and I swear the air around us rose by ten degrees. He started running full tilt toward me, and with a small smile, I remembered why sometimes it was so easy to kick this guy’s ass. Calling out to the most primal and powerful forces on this Earth I summoned power. The wind answered my call, and with a flick of my wrist, I blasted the tree next to him with raw power, splintering it from trunk to twig. Richard come to a sudden stop, and filched away from the bomb I create. Pressing the advantage, I turned the shrapnel into a hail of missiles, sending shards three feet long hurling toward him.
Richard jerked back, dodging and ducking to avoid being impaled while I pushed harder and harder against him. Just before I unleashed my trump card, he started to retaliate. Roaring in rage, he literally set the air around him on fire, turning my wooden missiles into flaming toothpicks.
Gulp.
He turned his eyes to me, and once again began charging foreword. I was once again shocked to see a car sailing over my head. Even more shocking, I realized the car in mind flight belonged to me.  It flew in a strange arc with a bit of wobble to it, and I noticed that I had a small oil leak.
Instead of incinerating my car, he decided to sidestep it, and it crashed behind him.The nose crumpling into a heap of crunched metal on the cement. I couldn’t do anything but stare in shock as my car crashed into the ground, my only worldly possession, reduced to a pile of scrap steel. I didn’t even realize that Richard hadn’t stopped just because I did, and just as he grabbed me by my throat, I snapped awake, far too late to react. Fortunately for me, his charge had been countered by a kung-fu kick directly to his face. By Rebecca. She had managed to get right up next to me without either of us knowing. The blow must have sent him back ten feet, and he crumpled to the ground motionless. Still in shock, my mouth opened and closed several times before I managed to make words. Squinting at Rebecca, I asked
“What did you just do?”
She didn’t even look at me; she just started stalking toward Richard. Almost as an afterthought she said
“Saving your life.”
As she turned away, I realized that her clothes had a fine residue of dirt on them. I also noticed a spot of oil on her shirt. Oil from my car. It only took me a second to put together why my car went flying. She had picked it up, and thrown it.
“Bitch are you out of your mind?!” I screamed at her, “Do you realize you’ve just destroyed my fucking car? What the hell is wrong with you? That’s my fucking car!”
She continued to ignore me, walking toward Richard. It made me furious that she ignored me, and even more mad that she had destroyed my car. Struggling to grasp with my current situation, I chased Rebecca to where she stopped beside Richard. Just as I took a deep breath to start screaming at her, she spun around and caught me by the throat, lifting me up off the ground. She started squeezing tightly, and I gasped and choked at her in reply.
“Listen Aaron” she said, her voice was calm, and without malice. ”I realize that you are a bit upset with me right now, but look at the alternative. You could have been incinerated. At least you still have a car. I do not.”
I blame not having a quick reply on the lack of blood running to my brain. It’s hard to form sentences when your brain is being starved.
“And one last thing,” She said. “Do not call me a bitch anymore. I do not enjoy being called names.”
“I see” I managed to choke out. She smiled at me, then without preamble dropped me on my ass. I hit the ground hard, and was so surprised at my sudden predicament, got the breath knocked out of me. I struggled to find my breath for a few seconds, and prayed that I wouldn’t spend this much time not being able to breathe in the future. I finally managed to get up, and saw Rebecca punch Richard in the face.
“Whoa hey, guess you don’t want him waking up now did ya?” I jeered.
She ignored me and threw Richard over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes. A sack of weightless potatoes, and turned to me.
“If you just put him down, I’ll take care of him.” I offered in a cheery tone.
She studied me with dispassionate eyes, and said in a chilled tone,
“You will not kill him here.”
I laughed, and gestured at the carnage.
 “Don’t be stupid, If we kill him now, he won’t be able to do this again. Not to mention its going to make me feel a lot better. ”
She just looked at me, and I took her lack of a response to mean “no”.
“Alright, you two can stay here.” I said, and started to walk away.
I got in my car, and said a silent prayer that it would start. I turned the key, and my Jeep coughed and wheezed its way to life. A small smile found its way onto my face, and I started to drive away. I looked into my rearview mirror, and saw Rebecca standing there.
 She looked at me through the mirror, and in that instant I could see the sudden rush of panic and fear course through her. I realized that she hadn’t expected me to leave her. She expected me to help. Continuing to hold her gaze, I saw that she had no idea how to handle Richard on her own, and without any help, she was going to be in a lot of trouble when he woke up. I’d like to tell you that I didn’t hesitate for one second to rush to her aid. That I was able to let the past go, and help her in her time of need. But in reality I almost continued to drive away. She hurt me, hurt me in a way that few others had. And I hated her for it. But she had also saved my life, and sacrificed her car when she could have let me die. I’m not a good man, but I’m not a bad man either, and I believe that all sacrifices should come with rewards. I sighed, and banged my head against the steering wheel several times in frustration.
“Fucking…..Fuck.” I mumbled. Turning the car around, I drove up to her, and beckoned for her to get in. She threw Richard in my back seat, and hopped into the passenger seat.
“You’re welcome.” I said.
“Thank you.” She replied, then after a second added “I'm sorry for being so mean to you.”
I rolled my eyes. I hate this part; it’s where everyone apologizes and cries and gets all sappy. It was easier to hate her, and a hell of a lot easier not to let her into my car, but I couldn’t kick her out now.
“Thank you for saving my life.” I mumbled. “And I'm sorry for being mean to you.”
She snickered. “Try not to sound like were in the first grade here Aaron.”
I glanced over at her, “don’t make me kick you out.” I replied.
She laughed again, and sat back, settling herself in her seat. I smiled to myself surprised at my sudden enjoyment of her company. I still fucking hate Mondays.
 


© Copyright 2020 Aerion4. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

More Fantasy Short Stories