Jump to content

Fire Always Burns


Recommended Posts

This was something I already thought of(can't say it's the best), and decided to twist it for the FFFC. Read on.




I do not know who I am. Being lost can do that to anyone, even me. My name is the only thing I forgot as we travel through this dry, barren place.


This place was the once-beautiful city of Metru Nui. Centuries of war and the abandoned feeling leaves it in ruins. All the canals have dried up. The buildings fallen. No other signs of life...or we thought. We, six Matoran, have been tasked with scavenging the area for...anything to help everyone else. But that's not important. Not anymore.


Our team leader, Sarin stops abruptly. Frowning at a fallen building, he beckons to me. The light shining off his grey mask makes it hard to tell his expression beneath, but his tone is troubled.


"Is that something?"


I shrug. "Not that I know of."


I walk closer. Seeing a shining object buried there, I try to pick it up. Stuck. I push away some of the rubble surrounding it. Better. Grabbing onto the object with both hands, I pull. Grunting as it raises a bit, I step back. It falls bask down, and I shake my head.


Sarin raises an eyebrow. I kick back some of the crumbled walls this time, clearing more space. The shining object was more clear now, a trapdoor.Perhaps one of those that the citizens hid in during the war. I open it, easier this time.


"All done," I say. Getting Sarin's nod of approval was just what I need. I hop down the hole, and find a large, empty space. The others will stay up there as I scout.


Walking in there wasn't hard. Listening to voices were.




I ignored it. Probably just my imagination. I step over to a puddle of water. Looking at it, I happen to catch my reflection in it. The sight if my wild, crazed eyes startled me, enough to get me back to scavenging. I find some weapons, dusty but sharp.




There. That voice again. Is it in my head? I do not know. I pick up a blade, turning it over. I feel a sharp pain as it cut my finger, drawing blood. Good. We could use some of those. I take the knife with me, and I head to the other undiscovered parts. Nothing special. No food, nothing else. Except for the puddle of water, really, but I cannot collect that.


Get out...


That voice again. This time, I call out. "Who goes there?" I watch, astounded, as a shape slithered into the space in front of me. No, not slithered. Crawled? Creeped? It was hard to describe. Normal beings do not move that way. And this thing was anything from normal.


It had a strange, batlike look. Red, menacing eyes perch behind some mask. Not just any mask, one that strikes pure fear into you, which is what happened to me.He just stared at me, while I was trying hard not to soil myself.


"What are you doing here, little Matoran?" he hissed.


"Looking for stuff" was all I could manage as he stalked closer as a rock lion may do to its prey. "Who are you?"


"Your fate," was the answer, but I wasn't expecting something unlike that. If my life was in his hands, as he is perfectly able to kill me if I did even something as simple as taking a step.


"Tell me, what do you want in my realm?"


"This is the realm of the dead. The non-existing. How did you manage to claim it?" I started to stall. If he was distracted, maybe I could leave. In peace.I then did something, something I will never forget. I tossed the knife. It sailed past the being, into a pile of crumbled rock.He turned, and I bolted.


I headed for the entrance, but I was too slow. He saw me run. Crossing the room in three strides, I felt his talons, I guess, grab the bask of my neck and draw me up. I am dangling up above the ground with no hope of jumping. Useless.


"Enough," he snarled, inches from my face. "I will make sure you never escape...without me knowing."


With that, I thought he was going to let me go, then lock me here. I was wrong. Always wrong. Instead, flames began creeping along his arm, starting at the shoulder. Coming closer, and then reaching his hand. At my throat. I felt the heat then. It began as a smal, warm sensation. Within seconds, the warm feeling turned into a blazing inferno.


He then dropped me. The fire has almost covered me from head to toe, reaching into my skin. "Remember," I heard him saying. "Fire always burns." I had no time to decipher the meaning. I was burning. I screamed, so loud I was sure that my friends could hear it. And what would they do? Come down and die?


My last thought was, before my eyes closed, about them. They started outwith six. And now they only have five.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Heyo! This story had an interesting concept to it, Matoran traveling in the Realm of the Dead. You did a great job writing in the suspense with that voice your Matoran hears.


Just something I noticed while I was reading, you slip back and forth from present to past tense a lot, which is something a bit off-putting as a reader, and something to just keep an eye on in the future.


But again, I really liked the premise of this story, spooky and mysterious. I'd love to read more about this band of Matoran sometime. Why are they in the Realm of Death? Will they find a way out? Will they be picked off one by one? It's intriguing! Keep up the good work!

(disclaimer: none of this banner art is original, I just smooshed it together in gimp. Torchic, Matau)
Those pesky firespitters... 
Library | The Sculptors and the Smelters | The Ternion Review Topic 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.

Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

  • Create New...