Work Text:
The door broke down easily, sliding off its hinges like a well greased machine.
The flame raged uncontrollably right before her eyes, swallowing up everything in its path. The heavy smoke pricked at her lids like thin needles, obstructing her vision of the children wriggling in the fire in front of her.
Beyond the smell of a familiar wood-fire, another was on the tip of her tongue.
Burning meat.
The same meat reared to be shipped tomorrow.
The cries weakened with each second, coughing and screaming filling Isabella’s ears until she couldn’t take it anymore. She knew the sound of those voices like the back of her own hand.
Her son--and Emma.
She was certain that she had been safe from this outcome, from their inevitable betrayal.
Isabella scrambles through the raging flame, letting the embers claim her sleeves. If nothing else, she needs to save the brain.
She finds the children wrapped in each other's arms, charred skin bubbling over burnt fabric, and she can’t find it in her to break open their heads
Maybe dying together was the best parting gift she could offer. Leaving this wretched earth in the arms of another.
Every child had evacuated the house safely, holding each other by the hands and watching the house burn in solemn silence.
Every child had made it out unharmed, prepared to escape that night, moonlight on the horizon. All except for two, Isabella’s most prized possessions, the masterpieces of Grace Field House.
Her masterpieces who had perished in the fire. Her children who were only so close to the future, who lost it in just a second. Her children.
Her son.
Regret pulls her to the cold grass, crumpling under her knees as she rips it out of the ground.
She wishes she could have loved them like a mother.