Chapter 10 - The Heat Inside
The amber glow radiating from Lily’s fingertips flared brighter, casting long, writhing shadows across the bedroom wallpaper. The air in the room grew instantly stifling, smelling faintly of ozone and scorched ash. Elena gasped, stumbling backward against the doorframe, her hands flying to her mouth in sheer terror.
"Mark, hold her tight! If the energy peaks, the whole second floor is going to go up just like the kitchen!" Elena shrieked, her voice cracking with hysteria.
Mark gripped Lily’s wrists with iron force, his face twisting with a mixture of desperate paternal anguish and raw fear. "Focus on me, Lily! Look at my eyes! Fight it!"
Lily gasped, a sudden wave of agonizing dizziness washing over her. Her mind felt as though it were splitting in two—half of her trapped in the terrifying present, and the other half slipping back into the burning memory of the kitchen three weeks ago. She remembered the red gasoline can now. She remembered holding it, pouring it, smiling as the flames danced across the linoleum floor. But the face smiling back at her in the reflection of the oven door wasn't hers—it was a distorted, shadowy figure standing directly behind her, whispering commands into her ear.
"I didn't do it alone," Lily choked out, her voice raspy and strained as tears evaporated instantly on her burning cheeks. "There was someone else in the kitchen. Someone standing in the dark."
Mark froze. The grip on her wrists slackened just a fraction. His wide eyes stared down at her with a terrifying realization. "What did you say?"
"A man," Lily whispered, her vision blurring as the heat surged through her veins. "He wore a dark coat. He told me to strike the match."
Elena let out a sharp, choked sob, sliding down the doorframe until she sat flat on the carpet. "He found us," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Mark, he tracked us down to this house."
Mark’s head snapped toward the hallway, his expression darkening into pure, unadulterated fury. He released Lily’s wrists, standing up so fast his knees popped. He grabbed the heavy iron wrench he had left by the door.
"Stay here with her, Elena," Mark ordered, his voice deadly quiet. "If anyone tries to come up those stairs, you know what to do."
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Before Elena could answer, a heavy, dragging sound echoed from the ceiling directly above their heads—as if someone, or something massive, was pacing across the floorboards of the forbidden attic.
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