The Fire Within Us

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Clessa and the Professor rode in silence to her house. The Machine buzzed and wheezed.
"Here we are...apartment 88."
Clessa nodded and walked to the black door. She reached her hand out, and pulled it open.
"You changed the Machine."
"Yep. Hawaiian Sunset."
"It's pretty."
The Professor nodded, and led Clessa to the door. She looked at the familiar brass handle. It was shiny, freshly polished, and causing a reflection on the wall.
"Go ahead."
Clessa nodded and twisted the door handle. Quickly, she shoved the door open.
"Nothing," said the Professor softly.
"Well, in all of the horror movies nothing usually is something."
The Professor stepped in front of Clessa, and into the apartment.
"Quiet...too quiet."
Clessa came in after him and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
"What do we have here?"
The Professor looked at the couch.
"I do think that there is a shard of glass on your couch."
The Professor picked up the glass.
"How could it get from the kitchen to here," asked Clessa.
"I don't know."
"Weird."
"Yes, very."
Clessa walked into the kitchen.
"Professor, come look."
The Professor came in.
"Weird."
All of the glass had been swept up.
"Someone has been here."
"Obviously Camilla."
"She said twenty minutes, it's only been ten."
"We could just wait."
The Professor nodded and went to open the kitchen door.
"It's stuck."
Clessa came over to help.
"Let me help."
She yanked on the door.
"OW!"
The door had burnt her finger.
"Blimey."
The Professor turned around.
"Clessa...don't touch anything metal. And don't talk."
She mouthed why at the Professor.
"Your voice is triggering some sort of mechanism that is making all of the metal in the room hot. I'm guessing that Camilla is trying to get you to bleed."
Clessa nodded.
"Don't even breathe loudly. It could cause the wood to do the same."
Clessa barely moved her head, because she was afraid to make a noise.
"And I am wondering why I can still talk and nothing is happening...."
The Professor looked around the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary...except the burning metal.
"Well, we are bloody trapped. But, if we wait long enough, she might come."
Clessa wanted to say something, but she knew nothing would come out. Clessa was bluntly scared.
The Professor tools deep breath, and opened the door. His hand burned. And it was no ordinary pain. It felt like a thousand knives stabbed into his hand. The Professor banged into the door, but it would not open.
"At least I tried."
Then, the door cracked open.
"Thank god," said Clessa.
The Professor looked at Clessa. Then, his feet started burning.
"Great! Now the wood is burning."
The two ran out of the room.
"Where's the bathroom?"
Clessa pointed down the hall. As the Professor was running, he grabbed paper and pen.
"Get to the bathroom!!"
Clessa and the Professor ran into the bathroom. He quickly shut the door.
"The floor in here is tile, so as long as you don't speak, we'll be safe. The knob is some sort of glass thing, and there is surprisingly no wood in here except for the walls so touch things freely. Just don't talk. If you need to say something, write it down."
Clessa nodded and reached for the pen. It burnt.
"Whoops, I guess no speaking for you."
Clessa frowned.
"Okay, what to do what to do. Xander could be here...just...hiding."
Clessa nodded.
"Let me see your bedroom, and I want you to stay here. Don't even move. Or talk. Or whisper."
The Professor opened the door, and ran to Clessa's room.
What a bloke. I should be the one searching for Xander, not him.
Control yourself. Come on Clessa.
No, it's his fault. He is the one who didn't put up security things.
Yes, but you are in love with Xander.
And I also love the Professor.
I know, but shouldn't you leave this to the Professor?
She went on fighting with herself.
The Professor has this! Why can't you leave it to him?
Because I won't! He's only undertaking half of the pressure that I am under.
Calm down.
Don't tell me what to do!
Why not? I am you anyways. I have as much power as you do with this little brain.
Shut up! I need to help him.
He has this!
Do we know?
Yes.
For sure?!
YES!
Can I trust you?
Well, I guess I am you so...yes. Yes you can trust me.
We need to help him.
What did we just argue about?
It'll be FINE! Just relax.
Have you met me?
I am you!
What about the kiss?
........
See! Now you are silent.
We still need to leave the Professor to do what he needs to. He'll save Xander.
Alright. But what if he doesn't?
In Clessa's bedroom, the Professor saw nothing. The floor was carpet, so he could walk freely.
"Looks ordinary..."
The Professor shrugged, and then felt a burning in his feet.
"Great. Under the carpet is wood."
The Professor quickly walked out of the room.
He will!
We never know for sure.
Stop it!
Well, it's true. Xander is probably dead.
"Shut up!"
Clessa covered her mouth, the floor was burning. The knob was burning. Everything in the room was burning. Clessa reached for the knob, but drew back once she felt the burn.
"PROFESSOR!"
"WHY ARE YOU TALKING?!"
"ACCIDENTS HAPPEN AND I AM BURNING ALIVE IN HERE!"
"No one shuts up these days," muttered the Professor.
"Help."
"I know."
"Please."
"I'm coming."
Clessa jumped up and down on the burning floor, as if to lessen the pain.
"This door is locked!"
"The tile is hot!"
"STOP TALKING!"
You see! This is what happens when we think together.
Whoops.
Yes, BIG whoops.
Sorry?
Don't apologize. Arguing with your own self is hard enough.
"Earth to Clessa?"
Clessa snapped into reality.
"Stomp your foot if you are still alive."
She stomped as loud as she could.
"Good. I am dying out here."
See what you have done?
Accident!
I am the smarter one.
Which one are you?
Well, you are Clessa's conscience, I am her thoughts.
Weird.
Yes.
Okay then....
We are the same person.
How do we help the Professor?
I don't know! He'll figure it out.
No.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
No.
Yes!
"NO!"
Clessa was screaming at herself. She quickly covered her mouth.
"Why did you do that? I am burning! You need to stop thinking to yourself, and focus on something else before you kill us all! I can not believe-."
And his voice faded out when Clessa collapsed onto the burning tile.
It was not because of the pain.
It was not because of the stress.
It was because of her own thoughts.
You see? This is what happened when we work together.
Fires can start.
But this won't ever go out.

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