Rox Kasker

Boston

Rox Kasker braced himself for impact as he fell fifty feet from the giant oak tree in the heart of the Boston Common. The branch he was standing on wasn’t as strong as he assumed it was, snapping under the weight of his two hundred twenty pound frame.

Bending his knees, a trick he learned in the army, he tumbled down the slight slope at the base of the trunk. His fall was somewhat gracious, but he did slam the backside of his head against an ominous rock protruding from the soil.

Laughing at his stupidity, he examined himself for injuries. No bones were broken, but his skull throbbed and he had numerous lacerations on his exposed forearms and shins. The most peculiar injury was a sensational burning beneath his skin and behind his eyes.

He blinked his eyelids to shake off the haze. Instead, each blink sparked with a fiery crackle, singing his eyelashes. The heat beneath his skin intensified, causing Rox to rub and itch at his forearms and legs. The irritation only worsened and streaks of small embers coughed and spat from the friction. The burning was horrible, yet his skin did not melt.

Terrified and confused, and desperately trying not to blink, he ran back over to the oak tree where his seven year old son was still climbing. Placing both hands on the dry bark, he called up to him.

As the words left his mouth, so did a breath of fire.

The old tree instantly absorbed the flames and began to burn with a fury. Rox’s son screamed in fear, but the fire was too fast. The tree was consumed and his son fell into the chaos. The flames quickly claimed him, and Rox indiscriminately and uncontrollably began burning everything around him.