The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Facing the Fire
by Kim Richards 

     Johnny jumped off the fire truck as it slowed to a stop. Mere seconds in firefighting meant life or death.

     He listened to radio chatter on the quick drive here and knew this was a bad one. Immediately the gestures of his lieutenant caught his attention, directing him to the right. There a burning tree touched the roof of a home, lighting it as if taking a match to a candle.  He coughed as noxious fumes from the fire reached him. Something odd about that particular acrid scent tugged at the edges of his mind. He secured his gas mask in place, pulled his red helmet low, and moved towards the building.

     Thick, black smoke billowed skyward from holes in the ceiling. Here and there Johnny caught glimpses of red and yellow flames swirling in the center of the smoke plumes. This was a bad one. He felt blistering heat, despite his heavy gear.  His heartbeat quickened, as did his breathing. He took a deep breath and waded in, axe in hand.

     Johnny reached the side door and saw movement within the heavy smoke. He blinked, unsure of what he saw but then it happened again. A gloved hand, waved from waist height inside the building. He realized someone, likely injured, struggled to get out of the building. Ducking his head down, he rushed forward.

     He reached the fallen fireman and recognized Duffy’s battered helmet. Johnny realized smoldering ceiling timbers pinned the man’s legs. He set the axe to one side and grasped Duffy’s hands. When he pulled hard, the trapped man yowled in pain. Glowing embers rained overtop both men in a deadly and beautiful dance of gold and crimson lights.

     “I’ve got you!”

     Unwilling to let go, Johnny planted his heels and leaned his body weight back to aid his strength in another attempt to pull Duffy from the burning wood. He grunted with the effort, while the other man grit his teeth.

With still no luck, Johnny released Duffy’s hands and retrieved his axe. He raised it above his head and then paused. Eyes of fire blinked.

     Deep laughter rumbled from inside the flickering flames above. Dark smoke swirled around like hellish breath.

     What the…?

     Johnny turned to Duffy, “Is someone back there?”

     “Not any more,” came the hoarse reply.

     After chopping at the wood near Duffy’s legs with little progress, Johnny reaffirmed his grip on Duffy’s gloved hands. He renewed his efforts to pull him from the flaming wreckage. With one great yank backwards, he fell backwards. He managed to scoot the other man a few inches

     “Oh, shit. Oh, fuck,” Duffy cried out. His eyes were wide with terror.

     “I’ve got you,” Johnny said.

     “That’s what I told the poor bastard who lived here…before it ate him,” Duffy cried out. “You’re dead too!”

     Must be those fumes, Johnny thought. He pulled all the harder, inching the two of them across to the doorway.

     Just then an enormous flame belched forth from the open doorway, washing over the two men in a brilliant and searing flash. Duffy screamed as he turned into a bubbling, cowering mass of flesh. The last thing Johnny saw was a pair of angry eyes bearing down on them and then he was gone.

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Fiction © Copyright Kim Richards
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com