Prologue.

I'm not sure WHAT genre this is, so it'll go into horror for now.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

 

SUSPICIOUS FIRE DESTROYS HOME OF WRITER SELENA ROSE

ROSE MISSING, PRESUMED DEAD

 

Tragedy struck in Waycastle today as renowned writer Selena Rose’s house on Stiles Road burned down in a surprise blaze which authorities are treating as suspicious. The fire was started at approximately 4:45pm, but due to the isolation of the house, it was unnoticed until 5:10pm. By the time the fire department arrived, the house was almost completely engulfed in flames.

Mayor John Chambers stated, “It’s a devastating loss. Other then the possibility that Selena Rose may have been trapped inside and, God forbid, died of burns or smoke inhalation, the Stiles Road house has been there for more then a century and to lose it is to lose a great historical monument in Waycastle.”

Selena Rose, author of such books as “Death’s Dance” and “Desert Song” hasn’t been seen or heard from since the night before the fires. Despite being missing and presumed dead, authorities say that she is still considered a suspect as no remains have been found inside the ruins of her home. When asked, Sheriff Pangborn refused to comment.

 

The house was still gently smoking in the early evening air, turning the stars into myopic blurs. Its ruins were soot-blackened, and you could just make out how the building had been laid out when it had still been a home, instead of a crime scene. Here’s the kitchen, full of appliances which were so useful but are now melted metal and plastic lumps on scorched benches and sinks. Over there are the remnants of the staircase, now just a twisted spiral of iron leading to nowhere unless you had the ability to jump the five meters to the nearest bit of unstable floorboards. And you see that door over there, the one hanging by just the one hinge? Well that leads to the dining room, where the magnificent mahogany table with its matching chairs once stood. In its place there is now a rather disappointing pile of grey ashes with a few dark chips of wood here and there.

Charlie wandered through the rubble, feeling the heat of the recent fire through his worn sneakers. His gaze drifted over the remains of the house before settling on something which glinted in the moonlight. He walked over to it, stepping carefully over the debris, and picked it up. It lay in his hand, still slightly warm from the fire, although it was undamaged. It was a silver locket with the image of a delicate rose inscribed on its front. On the back was an ornate letter ‘R’.

Charlie closed his hand in a fist around it, relishing the feel of its cooling warmth in his numb hand. He stayed in that position until it began to rain and the wreckage stopped smoking and started steaming. Then he slowly turned and strolled wearily back to the footpath in front of the house’s remains. There he stood silently for a moment, before whispering fiercely, “Why, Selena? Where are you?” and walking away.