Sept 29, 2021 12:33:21 GMT
So, if you are too tired to speak, sit next to me
because I, too, am fluent in silence.
because I, too, am fluent in silence.
Oda lay flat on his couch, a book resting on his face. While he had been reading it, its only purpose now was to block out the sunlight that squeezed through the blinds of his living room. A sudden, strong stench was enough to catch Oda off guard, waking him from his light nap. His head lifted upward, nose grasping at the floating particles. It was familiar enough to make the man’s heart race.
“Smoke.”
It wasn’t the kind of smoke that would make your stomach growl as it carried the juices from the barbeque. It wasn’t the kind of smoke that drew you towards it with laughter and drinks and dance. It was heavy—the kind of smoke that would come from a house fire.
Oda quickly jumped from his couch, not even bothering to change from his casual attire. His white t-shirt was wrinkled and old and his jeans slouched at the waist without his shinobi belt which was typically attached. He quickly put on his shoes and headed outside.
Smoke rose from behind buildings a block or two away. Within seconds he was there. A crowd was gathered around the building, the street filled with civilians as they stared in horror. An apartment building was up in flames.
Oda reached for the nearest person.
“Is there anyone inside?”
The woman nodded, “Y-yes! I don’t see my neighbor. She might still be in there, the third floor! Please, someone help!”
Without a second thought, Oda rushed in, covering his face with his t-shirt to keep from inhaling as much smoke as he could manage. He did as he had learned, keeping close to the walls of the building as he made his way towards the stairs.
The heat of the fire was becoming increasingly intense, sweat dripped from Oda’s temple.
“Is anyone in here?!” He yelled, coughing as he inhaled the heat and thick smoke.
“Help!” A voice cried out. Oda headed up the stairs and followed the voice of the woman as she continued to cry out for help.
The door to the apartment she was in was locked. With a quick thrust forward with his shoulder, he burst through, a wall of fire surged upward, catching his sleeve on fire. Oda quickly patted it out and headed inside.
“Here!”
“I got you. I got you.” Oda lifted the woman, helping her to her feet. The room was pitch black with smoke. “Cover your face with your shirt.” The man helped the woman down the stairs and safely out of the building. Though glad that the woman was safe, the crowd still stared in horror at the building.
“There’s still someone insi--”
Boom.
Fire burst through the windows and doors of the building and a rising wall of flames began to take over.
“Smoke.”
It wasn’t the kind of smoke that would make your stomach growl as it carried the juices from the barbeque. It wasn’t the kind of smoke that drew you towards it with laughter and drinks and dance. It was heavy—the kind of smoke that would come from a house fire.
Oda quickly jumped from his couch, not even bothering to change from his casual attire. His white t-shirt was wrinkled and old and his jeans slouched at the waist without his shinobi belt which was typically attached. He quickly put on his shoes and headed outside.
Smoke rose from behind buildings a block or two away. Within seconds he was there. A crowd was gathered around the building, the street filled with civilians as they stared in horror. An apartment building was up in flames.
Oda reached for the nearest person.
“Is there anyone inside?”
The woman nodded, “Y-yes! I don’t see my neighbor. She might still be in there, the third floor! Please, someone help!”
Without a second thought, Oda rushed in, covering his face with his t-shirt to keep from inhaling as much smoke as he could manage. He did as he had learned, keeping close to the walls of the building as he made his way towards the stairs.
The heat of the fire was becoming increasingly intense, sweat dripped from Oda’s temple.
“Is anyone in here?!” He yelled, coughing as he inhaled the heat and thick smoke.
“Help!” A voice cried out. Oda headed up the stairs and followed the voice of the woman as she continued to cry out for help.
The door to the apartment she was in was locked. With a quick thrust forward with his shoulder, he burst through, a wall of fire surged upward, catching his sleeve on fire. Oda quickly patted it out and headed inside.
“Here!”
“I got you. I got you.” Oda lifted the woman, helping her to her feet. The room was pitch black with smoke. “Cover your face with your shirt.” The man helped the woman down the stairs and safely out of the building. Though glad that the woman was safe, the crowd still stared in horror at the building.
“There’s still someone insi--”
Boom.
Fire burst through the windows and doors of the building and a rising wall of flames began to take over.
VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT
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