Fire. It smoldered before me. Normally you'd assume fire to be radiant, beautiful, sending showers of sparks into the atmosphere and coloring the skies with ember. Except this was not a place for fire to be born. In fact, it was possibly the worst location one could find it. 

 "How did the fire start?" A voice demanded beside me, but I remained hushed to the vibrations. Why should it matter how it started? I stared at the yellow school bus. The shouts of children clouded over the sirens that wailed behind me. Their pleas of pain and torment. 

 "Did you do this?" The voice asked again, the clamor of anguish suddenly silenced as I returned to the problem at hand. 

"Did I start the fire?" my question filled with malice as I turned to look at the other. 

"You're the only teacher who survived, hard to believe." He retorted, I lock eyes with him for a few rapid heartbeats as the fire personnel around us start going to work on extinguishing the flames. 

 "So because I have a fire click, I suddenly start murdering my own students?" I didn't keep the sharpness out of my tone but Inside. I'm shaking. Violently. 

 "Buses full of children don't just erupt into flames." the patience of the man was wearing thin, I could tell. I looked past him and watched as a firefighter with a water click drenches the bus and cools the smoldering, charred bodies of children. 

 "I didn't do anything," I could feel tears welling and turning to steam as they race down my scorched cheeks, adjusting my leather jacket uneasily, "My fire is blue flames. My click is called Hades' fury."

 Grinding his teeth, the officer jotted down a few notes, "For your sake, let's hope you're telling the truth. Lots of young heroes have died tonight."

I SCOFFED, "Is that all these kids were to you? Just heroes to be used as the pawns for the government?" 

 The officer didn't reply right away, instead, he turned on his heels and walked towards the rest of his crew. People started to gather around the burnt down bus, everyone whispered with fear and uncertainty. 

"One more thing," The officer said, and glanced back at me.

"What did you say your name was?" 

 "Kindling, I'm a teacher's assistant."

 We stared at one another for what felt like hours until he gave a nod and continued on with his investigation. I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. 

 The truth is. I did kill those children. I didn't have a choice. Not only that, but I just wish I hadn't done it so on the nose. To this day I harbor guilt of snuffing such young life, but it needed to be done. 

"Someone survived!" 

 My neck cracked with how swiftly I moved to get a look at the survivor. Terror, hotter than the depths of the underworld, cindered my chest. There he was. Being pulled from the wreckage.

I failed. The antichrist lives.