Flare's Story

Flare

Flare smiled serenely as fire crackled around her. Heat surrounded her as she went about her tasks. She opened a drawer and carefully selected a blade. She would only get one chance to do this correctly. With a nervous but determined breath she set to work. She gently carved a shape into flesh looking longingly at the red liquid that seeped from it. One little taste could not hurt could it? She sighed and then shook her head. No, she needed to focus on her work.

Except it was not really work, not to her any ways. It was the creating of a masterpiece that brought great fulfillment to her. With a critical and then pleased expression she placed the carved flesh in it's rightful place. She turned her head and yelled, "Mrs. Lyler's cake is finished." She smiled at the fruit covered cake. A strawberry flower sat in the middle surrounded by an array of tropical fruits cut into various shapes.

This was one of her best cakes yet. Her client was going to love this cake, or she was going to cram it down her throat till she did. With that thought in mind she gently carried the cake to the front of the little bakery that she worked at. She smiled sweetly at the the hawk like woman in front of the register. "Your order is ready ma'am." Watching the woman judge her cake with a look of disdain Flare scowled. The woman's beak like nose wrinkled in distaste. "I thought I told you to arrange the fruits in a pattern and to make the centerpiece pop. This is just a slew of fruits haphazardly tossed upon a cake."

Flare's expression went entirely flat. This woman dared to insult the fruit of her labor? How dare she? Flare had lived longer than any normal human. She had eaten the treats of famed bakers and seen them at work. She liked to think that she had inherited some of the talents of the unlucky ones that had been burned by her flames. What gave this snobbish woman who probably could not bake bread the right to judge her work? Before Flare could verbally rip into the woman she spoke once again, "Oh well, it will have to do. Make sure that your next cake is not a disappointment like this one."

Without further ado the woman swept out the door leaving Flare gaping and spluttering in outrage. Her boss looked at her sympathetically and invited her to keep the ovens hot. Usually this would be an activity that would relieve stress because of physical exertion. In Flare's case is gave her a chance to release some of the flames growing inside her. With a nod she marched to the kitchen and did exactly that.

Several hours and many baked goods later Flare took off her apron for the night. As she walked towards the door her boss casually spoke to her, "Wouldn't it be a shame if Mrs. Lyler's precious hair was to catch on fire while she was sleeping. I can see the news now. "Rich Vulture Lady's Hair Mysteriously Catches Fire While She's In Bed." In bed on the fourth floor of our city's most famous hotel, suite 306 to be exact." He leisurely twirled a a hotel key around his finger before tossing it to her. "Good night." He called as he walked the stairs to his apartment above the bakery.

Flare shook her head in disbelief, her boss never ceased to amaze her. She never could figure out how much her boss knew about her. Whether he knew of her true nature of just thought she was a fire loving human. Either way she was going to put this key to good use.

Flare

Flare stared in derision at the hotel sign in front of her. "Yotel,who the heck named this place?!" This was the nicest hotel for miles and it had a name that a motel would be ashamed of. She shook her head in amusement and casually walked into the hotel. It was not the most luxurious hotel she had seen but it's elegant simplicity was charming.

She stepped up to the service elevator that bellboys took the luggage up in. She pushed the elevator's calling button and when it came empty she smiled. She stepped into it and double checked the elevator for cameras. Her shoulders relaxed as she confirmed their absence. She did not want to be caught on camera in an elevator especially considering what she was about to do.

She knew the people who came to this hotel payed good money for privacy, so there were no cameras outside of the lobby and elevators. She quietly exited the elevator and pulled out the key that her boss had gifted her with. With a swift twist and push she unlocked the the door and entered the room. She gently pushed the door close behind her till it was only slightly ajar.

With a delighted expression she looked at the prone form of the cake insulting vulture in the bed. Oh it t'would be sweet the task she was about to perform. She opened the hotel's closet and searched for the woman's prized fur coat. She wrinkled her nose at the fox fur coat. Did this woman not see that the beauty of these creatures was meant to be experienced while they lived?When sun caused their fur to glow and the wind gently ruffled it.

With some regret and sorrow on the fox's behalf she took the coat out onto the balcony. She hooked it onto the balcony and set it aflame. She turned around and walked into the hotel room stopping beside the woman's head. She gently traced the woman's eyebrows and flame came to life behind her fingers. With a flourish she petted the sleeping woman's head as flames began to catch in her hair.

She walked away a skip in her step and a smile on her face as she walked down the hall. The woman would wake her husband soon in a blind panic as she realized her hair was on fire. She sighed in content as she waited for the elevator to arrive. Looking up at the sound of the elevator's arrival ding she stepped close to is as the doors opened. She stepped inside and frowned as a distant scream caught her attention. "What the heck was that?" She mumbled in annoyance. The elevator came to a jarring stop and it's doors slid open.

She stopped. She stared. This day was not going well at all.

Flare

A grumble escaped Flare's lips as she kicked a stone on her way home. First the vile vulture wench dared to insult her cake. Then some idiot murdered a bellhop. Not any bellhop though, oh no! It was the bellhop in the hotel she had gone to. I mean they could not have chosen a different bellhop? Heck they could have knocked him out and then stolen his clothes! "But nooo! They had to kill him and stick him to a wall!" She snarled angrily.

She glowered at the descending moon, as it reminded her of the wasted hours being interrogated by the police. She knew nothing of the murder or why they stole the guys clothes. No she did not know the small children and she was most definitely NOT their mother. Did she look old enough to be their mother? "I think not!" As she hissed a bush burst into flames a few feet away. Too angry to care she continued on her way.

She had been contentedly standing in the elevator when a scream shook her out of her blissful haze. She figured it was the city and people screamed all the time, no big deal. Which is why when the elevator doors opened she was met with the sight of a bloody mess of flesh stuck to the wall in front of her.

She gaped in shock at the body and the pieces lying on the floor. What had happened here? She had been upstairs for about five minutes. "How?" She rasped incredulously. Before she could find the answer to that questions a flurry of activity filled the lobby. Recognizing the Police uniform she widened her eyes in horror and sunk to the floor as if in shock. A police officer ran up to her asking if she was okay and attempting to move her from the murder scene.

Thus began a round of tug of war as the paramedics insisted she stay with them and the Police insisted she be questioned. After practically rock, paper, scissoring over who would get her the Police took her for interrigation. She shuddered as she thought of the officer that had droned on and on. These were her rights, this is what they knew, and her life would be difficult if she did not confess. After a couple of hours revealed she knew nothing the reluctantly let her go.

She exited an ally way near her home and stopped. "Why is there a blood trail in my city?" She asked hysteria leaking into her voice. She did not want to deal with this, not at all. "No, no, I refuse." she said. "I do not want to know, I did not see that." With determination she looked ahead of her and hurried to her waiting bed.

Just before she reached her door she glanced down hoping against hoping that there would not be a blood trail there. There was.

She shut her eyes and tried to control her breathing in an attempt to calm down. Her eyes then flew open as her patience snapped. That was it, she was done. She followed the blood trail into her house, her fury and despair increasing as she saw it head to her room. She steeled herself as she prepared for what would be inside. It was likely a body.

As she looked into her room she wished it was.

Flare's eyes widened in horror. No No NO! She mentally denied, this was not happening. All she wanted was a nice nap before she patrolled her city. A nap in the bed that was now stained with blood and had a dismembered arm on it. Her eyes widened further as the man, if he could be called that, fumbled for his arm. As he attached it she cringed at the wet crunching sounds it caused.

She registered two other 'people' in the room and stared at them before looking to the sawing noise. Strings were coming from under her closet door, something that greatly displeased he. Following them to the children she became aware or their wooden state. Suddenly recognition leapt into her eyes as she looked between the ragged man's clothing and the children on her bed.

Her mind went back to her interrogation and she snarled in fury. She glowered at the three in her room and stepped forward slowly trying to control her rage and the flames aching to escape. "You! It was you all who caused the commotion at the hotel!" A soft whine escape Flare as her stress levels continued to rise.

She slowly began to pace trying to control her anger and stopped suddenly as her rage finally boiled over. She saw Ragdoll flinch out of the corner of her eye. With a shudder she let the flames burst from within. As fire flowed over her she began to relax. Thankfully most things in her house, her clothes included, were fireproof or else the asylum would have burned down long ago.

The fire around Flare's hand grew and shrunk as she flexed her fingers in frustration. First things first she needed new sheets. She was going to get her nap intruders or not. In her haste she forgot the displeasing wires leading to her closet. She opened her walk-in-closet her dying flames lighting the interior. Inside her closet was a web of, wires was it? Her eyes widened as she spotted cloth strips on her floor. "Is that my favorite shirt?!" she shrieked. Flare's flames roared back to life revealing something she had neither expected nor desired to see.

Nestled on the wires was a lanky male whom she would guess was controlling the puppets in her room. With a bewildered look to the ceiling she sunk to the floor in exasperation. That was it she was done, absolutely done. She lay down on her closet's floor in exhaustion, she'd just take her nap here.