I love myself.
I cannot and will not die today.
The abundance of red hot flames towered taller than the trunks of the birch trees, taller than me, refusing to offer me a chance of survival.
My grazed knees and gauzed back were aching like mad under the increasingly smoldering heat. Sweat, blood, and tears leaked out of my every pores.
I did not like feeling helpless. I've gotten this far, no fire should or would stop me.
The flames crept sluggishly towards me, as if they were taunting me. Smoke billowed uncontrollably and flooded the orange napalm skies. The stretch of wasteland I have left was not relieving.
I have to think fast. A scorching piece of pressured stone hit me in my lungs.
I howled in terrible pain, and collapsed to the ground, strangled and severed.
I will not ask for mercy. I will stand my ground even if I die.
I stood up with difficult confidence.
My brain did not function. The haze fogged it all up, I could not hold longer. This cannot end. Yet.
And, of course, a gush of swift water appeared from nowhere.
Now, water was everywhere. Wet. Damp. Cold.
The stretch of water extended on all sides, keeping me submerged. Drowning was inevitable yet I knew better.
I've been here longer than anyone. Each obstacle they throw at me cannot kill me yet.
When will they figure out that I cannot die. I will not die today.
YOU ARE READING
short stories ¿?
Fantasyyeah, as the title suggests, this is a collection of bits and bobs of different unwritten stories, you could check it out if you need some ideas for your work, or if you just wanna read small scenes in the stories. I might be adding more to this lat...
