The corridor felt like a throat, choked with smoke and slick with ash. Every breath burned as if the air itself had been set ablaze. Faint orange light flickered from somewhere deep ahead, casting jagged shadows on soot-streaked walls. Charred posters hung in tatters, their edges curled inward as though the paper itself had been trying to escape the flames.
Lex raised a hand, signaling the group to stop. The faint sound of crackling fire echoed in the distance, accompanied by something far more sinister—a distorted chuckle that slithered through the heavy air.
“Everyone stay close,” Lex whispered, her voice low but firm. Her crossbow was steady in her hands, her knuckles white from the tight grip. “Move slow. Stay quiet.”
The group pressed forward cautiously, weaving through the scorched wreckage of what had once been part of the mall’s luxury wing. Damien walked alongside Lex, his machete held low but ready. Brandon carried his rifle, his finger hovering near the trigger. Behind them, Maya clutched her machete tightly while guiding Elliot by the shoulder. The boy was silent, his wide eyes darting toward every flicker of light and shadow.
Margaret and Anthony stayed at the back, the weight of their fear etched deeply into their faces. Margaret held a crowbar with trembling hands, while Anthony’s baseball bat hung loose at his side.
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THE SMELL OF ASH AND FEAR
“This place… it’s suffocating,” Maya said softly, her voice barely louder than a breath.
Sophie, clutching her tablet, glanced at the flickering screen. Lines of corrupted data danced across it, making her brow furrow. “Whatever happened here, it wasn’t random. This was deliberate… controlled.”
Elliot tugged at Maya’s sleeve. “Are we being hunted?”
Lex glanced back at him, her expression softening briefly. “We’re always being hunted, kid. But we’re still here.”
Ahead, a broken sign hung loosely from the ceiling. Its letters were scorched and peeling, but the faint outline of “Fashion District” was still visible. Beneath it, blackened mannequins stood frozen in melted displays, their hollow eyes staring blankly into the darkness.
Sophie’s voice cut through the uneasy silence. “Lex… I think I’ve found something.”
The group gathered around her as she turned the screen of her tablet toward them. Lines of text scrolled across a corrupted file, and one name stood out among the fragmented data: The Pyromancer.
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THE PYROMANCER’S FILE
“The Pyromancer,” Sophie said, her voice trembling slightly. “He’s one of the Hive Mind’s Psychos. A sadist who specializes in fire and chaos. Makeshift flamethrowers, incendiary traps, controlled destruction… he turns his territory into a deathtrap.”
Damien let out a low whistle. “Well, that explains the smell.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Brandon’s face darkened. “If he’s here, we’re walking right into his playground.”
Lex studied the screen, her eyes narrowing. “Is there anything in there about his patterns? Weaknesses?”
Sophie shook her head. “No. The data’s fragmented. But if we’re seeing signs of him, he knows we’re here.”
Anthony spoke up from the back, his voice steady but grim. “If we’re going to face this Pyromancer, we need to be smart. Fire doesn’t forgive mistakes.”
“Then we stay sharp,” Lex said, adjusting her crossbow. “If we spot him, we don’t engage head-on. We move, we outthink him, and we survive.”
No one argued.
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THE TRAIL OF ASH
The group pushed forward, their footsteps muffled by a layer of fine ash covering the tiled floor. Broken glass crunched softly under their boots. Every corner felt like a trap, every flicker of light a threat.
Elliot’s voice was barely a whisper. “Do you hear that?”
The faint sound of metal tapping against tile echoed from somewhere ahead—slow, deliberate, almost… playful.
Tink… tink… tink…
Maya swallowed hard. “He’s close.”
The air grew hotter as they turned a corner and entered what had once been a high-end electronics store. The walls were blackened, shelves warped by heat. Scorch marks formed jagged patterns along the floor, leading deeper into the darkened space.
Lex raised her hand again, her eyes sharp. “Keep moving, but stay quiet.”
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SHADOWS IN THE FLAMES
As they moved through the electronics store, Sophie stopped suddenly, staring at one of the walls.
“Look at this,” she said, pointing.
Scrawled into the blackened plaster were words, burned deeply into the surface as if by a welding torch:
“THE FLAMES CLEANSE ALL.”
The words sent a chill down everyone’s spine.
Suddenly, a faint hiss filled the air, followed by the smell of gasoline.
Lex’s eyes went wide. “Move! Now!”
The floor erupted in fire, bright orange flames roaring upward as fuel ignited in a sudden inferno. The group scattered, diving behind counters and overturned shelves as the heat surged around them.
From somewhere in the shadows, a voice rang out—distorted and theatrical.
"Run, little mice. Run before the fire catches up!"
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INTO THE MAZE
The group stumbled through a side exit, coughing as smoke clawed at their lungs. They emerged into another corridor—this one narrower and winding, with walls covered in peeling posters and scorched wallpaper.
“He’s herding us,” Lex said through gritted teeth, her gaze flicking back the way they came. “He’s not just attacking randomly. He’s driving us somewhere.”
Sophie coughed into her sleeve. “I think… I think I saw an old sprinkler system map on the tablet earlier. There might be a control panel nearby.”
“Then we head there,” Lex said firmly. “We can’t keep running blind.”
The ground trembled faintly beneath them. A distant, guttural growl rumbled from somewhere below, deep and resonant like the shifting of tectonic plates.
Maya froze. “What was that?”
Sophie glanced at her screen, her face going pale. “That’s not him. That’s… something else.”
Lex’s eyes narrowed. “We need to move. Now.”
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THE WEIGHT OF SURVIVAL
As the group moved down the corridor, the faint laughter of the Pyromancer followed them—echoing softly, as if carried by the smoke itself.
Margaret fell back slightly, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting the Psycho to materialize from the shadows. Anthony kept close to her, his knuckles white around the baseball bat.
They turned another corner and finally spotted it: a rusted sprinkler control panel bolted to a cracked wall.
“There!” Sophie shouted.
Before they could reach it, a wave of fire roared down the corridor, forcing them to scatter again.
Through the flames, the faint silhouette of the Pyromancer appeared at the far end of the hallway, his welding mask glowing with faint orange light.
"Come now, little rats. There’s nowhere left to run."