having been left to fend for himself, the young boy stood at the crossroad, barely illuminated by the old and yellowed streetlight. it was dark alright....starless and still, serving only to accentuate his sense of dread, as he waited for the last bus to appear. how was it possible that he could have allowed for this to happen, to be out so late, in a town he barely knew, and especially on this of all nights?
just moments before, the fluttering sound above and behind him had caught him by surprise, and as he jumped he turned to see a bat disappear into the dark. he shivered and stood even closer yet to the lamp post, all too aware of his vulnerability. the light, meant to be a source of comfort, now seemed more a beacon for everything beyond its tired glow, announcing his presence to all obscured. and waiting.
where was the bus?
where indeed. unbeknownst to the boy, the bus was no longer, having been turned into a fireball from which no one survived. the fire had blazed brightly, and were it to have been a normal fire it would have been seen for miles, resulting in a caravan of vehicles seeking to render any assistance possible. but this had been no ordinary fire, with the flames burning in a peculiar, almost inward fashion. no one on the bus had ever had a chance. no time, or place to escape, the sudden and intense heat overwhelming the passengers as they sat quietly on the bus in this sweltering summer night, with nary a breeze to cool one off even slightly.
