"--and then, when I woke up, my claws were back and I'd ripped through my sheets!"
"I mean, kinda just sounds like a bad dream. Everyone has them."
"But why drunk driving? Why do I remember it so vividly?" Amara asked, absentmindedly pushing her hands into her pockets.
"Didn't you say you can't get drunk anymore? Maybe it's combining that with your feelings about the party?"
"That's a stretch, Nick, even by my standards."
"Hey, I'm an architect. If you seriously want someone to examine your dreams, go ask Tessa or something. I hear witches love that stuff." Nick shrugged as he pushed the crosswalk button, waiting for traffic to stop.
The two continued bickering, trying to guess if Tessa seemed like the type to read into dreams, as they continued their walk. It was early in the afternoon, and Amara's hair fluttered in the light autumn breeze. She wore black shorts, her legs visible through the many holes of the distressed denim, and a loose red shirt that hung off one shoulder. All the students they passed wore sweaters, jackets, and other appropriately warm items, but Amara's body was incapable of feeling cold. Her camera bag hung at her side, its weight comforting her as they turned the final corner, the Jade Palace now in sight.
At least, what remained of it.
The blackened skeleton of the house's frame still stood, for the most part. One wall had collapsed, and now lay in pieces amongst the ashes, but the others had managed to hold their place. Bits of plumbing were visible, resembling iron veins that had long ago stopped pumping, and Amara also saw hints of where the wiring had previously run. The lot was covered mostly by charred remains of the building, with some larger pieces that survived the fire still visible.
The debris wasn't completely undisturbed. She could see a few sets of tracks leading in and out of the ashes, likely from curious students eager for a thrill. There were also signs of people rummaging through the lot, though she doubted the Palace had held anything worth scavenging.
Amara paused, unknowingly holding her breath as she clutched the strap of her bag. She closed her eyes, trying to keep her memories at bay, and was thankfully interrupted by Nick's voice.
"Hey, we can still turn back. Chloé will understand if--"
"No." Amara said quickly. "I need to do this."
She swallowed nervously, then resumed walking towards the building. The lot had been taped off by the emergency services, but no one was here to enforce it. Over the last week, Amara had hyperfixated on the aftermath, desperate to know what was going to happen, but she'd only heard rumors. Some students said the insurance wasn't up to date, some thought the building didn't actually have an owner, but the only concrete fact was that cleanup had yet to begin.
That's why I'm here. Chloé needs these pictures to help with the fundraising.
Setting her bag down, Amara took a few minutes to set up her camera. She took her time, double and triple checking each step of the process. After a few test shots, she moved closer and ducked under the caution tape.
Looking over the lot, she realized she was standing by the back entrance. The door lay in pieces just past the frame, shattered from her panicked rush to escape. She could still see indentations in the grass, impressions of where she'd landed with Vee. The smell of iron filled her senses, mixing with the smoke drifting off the burning house. Sirens screeched in the distance, the noise mixing with the sickening sound of lumber snapping inside the house. She locked eyes with Vee, bloodied and bruised on the ground, her face--
Shut up! It's over!
Amara shook her head, the smoke and sirens vanishing as she grabbed her camera. She raised it higher, between herself and her memories, then snapped her first pictures.
*CLICK*
Once she'd gathered enough material, she began circling the house. Just past the frame, she could now see what had previously been the main room. She recognized the furniture, even after it had been warped by the fire, and the loft was clearly visible, though it was now half buried in the rubble. Its railing had been scattered, and she remembered kicking it apart herself, having just smothered the exits in hellfire. Heat began drifting off of the ashes, the fire spreading as she urged it to grow stronger. It was a part of her, a living, breathing weapon that longed to consume everything it--
*CLICK*
She took another deep breath, focusing on the pictures.
The fire's gone. Keep moving.
Moving towards the front of the house, she saw there was still litter from the party. Cigarettes, red plastic cups, a few discarded costume pieces. The excitement of the party returned, the joy of showing everyone her true form, of reveling in their adoration. Eager hands caressed her tail, her horns, a few trying to cop a feel elsewhere. She'd never felt so desired, though now she felt guilty thinking about such things.
*CLICK*
She raised the camera higher, looking into the kitchen. The breakfast bar was still standing, which was impressive given the destruction everywhere else. Hints of alcohol returned to her lips, every drink graciously donated by a horny college student eager for a dance, if not more. The more she drank, the more she realized it didn't affect her, which had only intensified her desire to feed.
*CLICK*
I'm more than that. I have to be.
Amara pushed onward, locking her memories away behind her pictures. She knew she was almost finished, and she quickly glanced back at Nick before continuing.
The last side of the building had fared well, all things considered. The bulk of the fire had been in the main room, as the flames hadn't spread until after they'd left the bedroom. Most of the drywall here had been destroyed, and she could see sections of the floor had collapsed. Through the gaps, she could see the room Vee had pulled her into.
She had replayed her conversation with Vee thousands of times. She'd learned so little, they'd barely spent any time talking, but there was so much wanted to know.
"Stop fucking lying to me!"
Amara winced, the pain from that moment returning. The pain from the magic, the Enochian assaulting her very essence, had paled in comparison to the look on Vee's face. She moved her hand to her cheek, lingering on that moment, the end of their last conversation.
When she pulled her hand away, it was unexpectedly wet.
*CLICK*
She rested her camera at her hip, held up by its straps, as she moved her hands to her face. She took a deep breath, then brushed away the rest of her tears.
I'm so sorry, Vee.
A hand appeared on her shoulder, pulling her back to her senses. She looked back at Nick, who was opening the camera bag for her. The look on her face was obvious, but he said nothing as he helped her put the camera away.
A few minutes passed in silence before Amara spoke up.
"Hellfire."
Nick gave her a questioning look.
"My flames, they're hellfire."
He paused, likely being careful with his words. "How do you figure?"
"I don't entirely know. Maybe Vee said something while we were... y'know, but it could've been something else. There's still so much I don't know about everything that's happening to me, maybe demons just know this shit innately."
