Burning Down the House

Rickter was faced with three problems. The first was the fire that had caught onto his head and had consumed the bookshelf behind him. The flames licked at the open air, searching for flesh to gnaw at. The second was Calindar, who, despite her wound, looked wild with rage. Her dark blue hair stretched across her torso and sweat dripped down her pale face. The third was the glowing orb over Calindar’s shoulder. The orb that played Simons Says.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Bzzz Simon Says … punch a window with your bare fist!

The excited tone that the orb spoke to Rickter frustrated him. It suggested such maniacal things with no shame or hesitance. Rickter climbed to his feet and Calindar followed sluggishly. Caw dived down and slashed its talons once more across her eyes. She gasped and stumbled, still clutching at the bleeding wound in her gut.

He ran to the far window, cocked his fist, and punched through the glass, adrenaline fuelling him. The shards of glass cracked free and dug into hi