A familiar, but nasty smell began to fill Max''s nostrils forcing him to open his eyes. The room was stuffy, and it was hard to breathe. He could hear screaming downstairs, and under the door he could see a bright orange light enveloping the dormitory.


    Under normal circumstances Max would''ve considered every possibility, and would have reached an optimal answer, but not this time, this time panic is what set in instead.


    He immediately got to his feet, and threw the door open, a blast of hot air infiltrated the room tinging his skin a light gray, the color of smoke.


    He quickly made his way downstairs, and saw the dormitory ablaze, the curtains a fiery orange dancing in the fumes, the beds a scorched surreal black, and the children screaming as their vocal cords burned.


    Even Max yelped in pain as the tiles under his bare feet were searing his flesh. He dashed toward the exit at full speed.


    Some of the children reached out to him, pulling at his shirt, but he brushed them off like ants, and let the toxicity of the air take them as they choked to death on the fumes, their skin going white, then purple, then orange, and finally ashy black, erased by the pungent evil flames. The fumes could take them all, but they would not take Max, he was a survivor, and he would survive again.


    He had escaped the dormitory, and in front of him were other children running toward the exit, but part of the structure under them began to crack, and tumble as a large pit of fire opened beneath them forcing them to plunge into the scorching hell beneath the earth. Their screams were those of shock at first, but they quickly evolved to those of terror, and life ending excruciating agony.


    A single child held on to a piece of wood, clinging to life, desperate for salvation, the same way that Max was at that very moment. As Max approached the pit he leapt as high as he could flying over hell itself, and as he landed he crushed the boys fingers, breaking them, and denting the wood forcing the child to fall to his death. Max did not stop running.


    His face was sweaty, and desperate and eager, he would stop at nothing to escape this hell. His energy was leaving him because of the toxic fumes, his stamina, or regret he did not know, he did not think, he ran.


    Max bolted through the door, and into the receptionist room, one door was left. As he reached for the doorknob leading outside he heard a voice from behind him. It was an old voice, an ancient one that he''d not heard for some time, a voice that lacked an image or corporeality. He turned to it, and looked upon its shape, white and ephemeral.


    "Come." It said, "You don''t have to run anymore baby."


    That was a relief, Max was tired of running. He was sleepy, and hot. Why was he so hot?


    He approached the form, and extended his arms to embrace it. It felt like hugging warmth itself, he clutched it with all his might, and began to cry, his tears evaporating before they hit the ground. The heat scorched his feet, but he did not feel it, his arms began to blister and pop, but he did not feel them.


    The form that embraced him began to change its shape, and resemble something else. His fingers dug into something, but it wasn''t warmth anymore, it was rigidness, it was crumbly, and fresh. It felt like he was rubbing the inside of an open zit, a slimy liquid was seeping in under his nails. He let go in a hurry trying to pull away, but a black scaly arm reached for him, and grabbed his hand.


    "Where are you going baby?" The corpse said reeling him in with the strength of a lion''s grip.


    "Stop!" Max yelled, but it was too late.


    His scorched feet, his blistered arms. The pain of them became his new reality, and just as the children from earlier screamed a bloodcurdling scream before they died, Max did the same.


    But instead of dying, Max found himself back in his bed in the orphanage sweating, crying, shivering. He shot up, and felt his arms and legs – normal. A nightmare, he figured, and a horrible one at that. He curled his knees up to his chest like a child, and dug his face into them, like Caleb had hidden his face earlier in Max''s jacket. What happened next Max would not speak of, but he did not get much sleep that night.


    ***The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    The following morning Max showered, got dressed as usual, and made his way to the kitchen to have breakfast. He was especially hungry since he missed out on dinner yesterday, and didn''t want to make the long walk to the school without eating. After grabbing his food, he made his way to the play area where he saw Madam Vine sitting on an old couch, watching the news on a flickering CRT.


    The playroom wasn''t especially large, and it was full of toys that were as old as the playground in the back yard. There were torn stuffed animals, puzzles full of missing pieces, toy cars, trains, and all sorts of things. Max always thought the toys were incomplete, and frustrating. He hated putting puzzles together just to find out that one or two pieces had been missing, playtime at the orphanage was always miserable for him when he was younger.


    There were only a handful of books within the orphanage and Max had read them each at least several times over when he was younger. There was never an investment in new toys or books for the children so for the last several generations the kids of St. Hope relied on the bits and pieces of broken toys for entertainment.


    "Oh, good morning Maxie, I hope you slept well."


    "I''m okay. Did Ms. Finch tell you about the supplies?"


    "Oh, yes, thank you so much for picking those up for us. I''m sorry I wasn''t there to greet you, but I find myself heading to bed earlier and earlier these days," she said with a light cough.


    This wasn''t a surprise, Madam Vine was 86 years old, a decade older than the life expectancy in the country. She''d be passing soon, and he knew it, if going to sleep earlier helped her with her daily activities then so be it, but he wondered how the other caretakers felt about it.


    "It''s no problem." Max said.


    As Max ate Luke ran into the room and plopped down on the couch between Madam Vine, and Max.


    "Big Max!" He cheered, "Big Max is here!"


    "Yep, I suppose I am." Max smiled.


    "Did you already finish your food Luke?" Madam Vine asked suspiciously.


    "All gone, all gone!" He yelled rubbing his tummy.


    "Okay, well you can sit in here with us as long as you stay quiet, but don''t forget to attend your classes this morning."


    The boy nodded slightly, and refocused his attention on the TV, and Max did the same.


    A young woman with short brown hair was presenting the local news, she couldn''t have been older than 25 Max guessed. He wondered what her background was, he never saw her around, so she definitely lived in North Eden he thought.


    "Good morning everyone, Samantha Holmes here, and welcome to today''s news broadcast! It''s been especially chilly outside lately, and this week will be no different! Expect temperatures to be as low as 30 degrees Celsius, depending on how the clouds move we may even get some snow in the coming weeks!"


    "Snow! Snow! Snow!" Luke said over and over again.


    "Oh lord, it''s not even winter yet, how will we manage Maxie? The radiator has been broken for ages."


    "I think last year we used space heaters." Max said.


    "Yes, that''s right, but the headmaster was upset about that. It takes so many to heat up the dormitory, and the power bill gets way too high."


    "We''ll figure something out."


    There was a space heater in the attic too which Max had all to himself, but after winter last year the orphanage sold them all to cover the cost of power, and other necessities. It seemed winter was going to be a concern this year as well.


    "Oh my, I hope so."


    "In other news the city is having a special meeting this evening to discuss the latest wave of crime that''s overtaken the city over the last several months. The meeting will not be public, but the public safety committee in conjunction with the police department will issue a statement not long after."


    That reminded Max of something vital. He wanted more information on who the last Azrael was. He thought it was weird that there were never any news articles or statements put out regarding their death.


    On one hand it could''ve been something simple like disease or an accident, but if that was the case why didn''t Raguel just say that? Max suspected a murder, but he wanted to know for sure. He wondered whether or not Dante had similar feelings. Either way it was decided, Max would try to attend that meeting later today.


    "Maxie, please whatever you do please don''t get involved with that nasty Archangels gang. I''ve heard a lot of dreadful things about them, and you know they prey on orphans like yourself. You''re what, fifteen now? You''re the perfect age for them."


    The broadcast didn''t mention the Archangels at all, but it was obvious that''s who they were talking about if you read between the lines.


    "Scary." Luke said as yellow tape, and crime scenes flashed across the screen.


    "Yep, that''s right Luke, scary." Madam Vine said.


    "You don''t have anything to worry about, I know better than that." Max lied.


    The news went over a few more things. Something about a pet killer on the loose, and some new government group called the SCG, but none of it seemed relevant to Max so he decided to filter it out.


    "And that''s all for your weekly news roundup! Samantha Holmes over and out!"


    After breakfast Max stood up, and started to leave.


    "I''ll be working late tonight, so please tell Ms. Finch," Max said.


    "Alrighty Maxie, you take care now and have a blessed day!" Madam vine said, her eyes still fixated on the TV screen.


    Luke turned around on the couch, "Bye Big Max, bye Big Max!"


    He put on his jacket which was still wet from Caleb''s tears from last night, and stepped out into the cold foggy streets that were South Eden.


    Max reflected on Samantha Holmes weather report, and figured he''d need to start wearing thermals under his clothes because the jacket alone wasn''t going to cut it. Depending on how cold it''d get he might need to invest in some new blankets for the attic, but sneaking them past Ms. Finch would be an ordeal in itself, so Max pushed the thought away for now.