Chapter 1
tion and convergence of light. Kinda like when someone focused the sun rays through a magnifying glass down at an unsuspecting insect. Only at a much larger scale.
There was no obvious connection between the victims. So suspects either. The list of torched down buildings included, and was not apparently limited to; a well known Italian restaurant, an abandoned cheese factory, a few old houses on the city outskirts, a bunch of hot dog stands and most controversially, a stately home that belonged to one of the city's bigwigs. Unluckily, any person present in these different structures at the time were charred beyond recognition.
The city was flung into the spotlight and every member of law enforcement was hard pressed to find any single piece of information concerning the fires. And there was nothing of importance, what with the fire engines arriving when they were already too out of control to save anything.
James Milton was reading a few newspaper article headlines to Marcus."Police unable to solve mysterious fires. Homeowners, restaurateurs and hot dog vendors fear for their lives, businesses and fast food snacks. Conspiracy theorists coming up with all sorts of possible reasons and theories, some claiming it to be the work of UFOs. A group of Doomsday preppers already claiming that the End is near. Sheer panic courses through the city."
Marcus shook his head at this. "That's the problem with the damn press. Always making mountains out of molehills."
"But the people are getting restless and paranoid Marcus. Plus," James added jokingly, "No one would set foot near a hot dog stand now." Marcus gave him a halfhearted smirk. "Who knows how those things are made anyways? And why exactly do they have to peg UFOs on every weird thing that happens? I think aliens have better things to do than torching buildings. Like experiments and species colonization."
"Yeah, but we still have a case to solve. No leads, no motive, no witnesses." James added.
"Whatever whatevs James. I'm heading home. All this looking at burned buildings is going to give my warped mind pyromaniac thoughts." Marcus deadpanned as he got his coat and headed for the door.
"Don't play with matches Marcus!" He shouted after him. Marcus shook his head a bit and walked out the building. The orange tinted sunlight of late evening touched the different sized skyscrapers. He got into his mediocre but effective car, to drive to his mediocre but effective house, have a mediocre but effective meal, lie on his mediocre but effective bed and have not so mediocre but still effective thoughts.
However, the sight that greeted him as he pulled up to his neighborhood was neither mediocre nor effective. People were crowded around one of the buildings some distance away, some trying to put out the raging inferno that consumed the house, others on their phones either phoning the fire department or recording the incident to post on social media, others were screaming or crying hysterically and still others were staring at the blaze as if it were some messed up Guy Fawkes bonfire.
Marcus got off his car and rushed to the scene. As he joined the crowd of, volunteer firemen, callers, video recorders, screamers/criers and onlookers, he noticed something and was about to point it out or investigate but this was thwarted by the screaming sirens of the fire engine and ambulance. As the valiant firefighters tried to put off an almost completely consumed house, the paramedics were busy attending to second degree burns and cases of shock.
There was way too much noise and confusion for Marcus to handle. He liked chaos the same way a good number of teenager girls like unnecessary drama: worthy and entertaining to watch, not so worthy or entertaining to participate in. He got into his empty house and had a simple meal of spaghetti and meatballs before hitting the hay for the night.
Unsurprisingly, he didn't sleep a wink that night from all the excitement so he did what any irrational insomniac would do; go for a stroll at night to check out the incinerated house. Of course it was unnaturally quiet all over, like the whole thing never even happened. Its owners had apparently gone for a business trip and they haven't been home for a few days. "How convenient," Marcus thought as he neatly sidestepped a still hot ceiling beam.
Just when he thought nothing interesting can be found in a burnt house that wasn't ashes, mangled plastics or destroyed furniture he spots a piece of paper caught between a drawer and an almost pristine cabinet. He takes the paper and the only thing written on it was a large circle, incomplete in some places, with small circles and lines in it. He didn't know what to make of it, but he put it in his sweatpants pocket.
He spent his walk back thinking about the fire and when he reached his house and looked back at the slightly distant ruins. It might have been a trick of the shadows, but Marcus could have sworn he saw someone standing near the wreck gazing at it. He looked back at his slightly ajar door and then back at the wreck and the person or shadow or whatever was gone.
