She glanced up and down the aisle; no one had witnessed her odd behavior. Gathering a denim jacket around her scrawny frame as another shiver crawled up her back, she picked up the can of tomato sauce from the slick tiles and once again looked around her as if guilty of some crime. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her cell phone, paused, then carefully returned it. It hadn't really been that severe; she saw no reason to call Doctor Ricks--what was he going to do, anyway? She would rather not bother anyone about it. If anything else happened, she would call.

Stepping out of the marketplace, burdened by a bag slung over each arm, she heard a slow dull whining from behind grow increasingly louder, and turned around in time to see the standard long red truck pull into vision, charging down the street with a piercing whistle. The sharp whine of the fire truck rattling in her ears and the flashing lights against the darkening sky almost triggered another seizure. Dropping to her knees, she clasped one quaking hand to the side of her head to somehow stifle the echoing pain and sharp throbs. She feared the oncoming seizure, felt the beginning tremors course through her body and a sharp pain in her head that blurred her vision.

To her amazement, the tremors passed once again without any major injury. Only a light tingle remained of the pain as she returned to a state of homeostasis. Calina looked up just in time to see the rear end of the truck turn left up the street; only then did she notice the grey plumes rising above the houses, barely distinct against the dark clouds overhead.

Hurriedly stuffing and lifting the bags, she trotted off toward the blooming clouds, hoping to see a true fire in full force--watch the bright orange flames flickering against the smoky backdrop, witness the awesome consuming power of the fiery tongues, and smell that exhilarating pungent odor. That self-imposed promise to call a doctor had already vanished from her mind, quietly pushed from thought by the reality of a fire.

Candles, bonfires, matches, old stoves, and wooden fires--the flame had always held a strange fascination for her. It was an eternal secret that she longed to discover. How could something so pure, sweet, and warm deform and become such a savage, merciless creature hidden behind its screen of smoke? It was that monster that intrigued her, more than the innocent child-flame it grew from.

Arms dragging with the weight of the groceries, Calina cut around the corner toward the source of the smoke, and was confronted with an awesome sight, much more than she could have ever hoped to see.

It was the great cathedral. The ancient stone cathedral was lit with a blurred light greater than the combined force of all of the meek candles it held. White steam from the firefighters' attempts to extinguish it was quickly lost in the consuming darkness of ash and smoke; glaringly bright flames danced behind the ruined doors and windows, seeing their glow reflected against the solid walls of stone and smoke.

It was incredible to see the sacred church engulfed in blackness, a superb irony. In her mind she imagined a terrible beast looming over the carcass of the crumbling church. It was easy to see--the growing curls and billowing ash and smoke rose in the general shape of a hunched creature sitting within the stone walls; the dancing streams of fire looked like massive claws against the ground and the flames behind the high windows looked like staring eyes or glinting fangs.

But, of course, the smoke didn't retain any pattern for too long and the beast in her mind's eye disappeared as the smoke rose higher and twisted into other nondescript forms.

A small bark erupted from near Calina's elbow--a young boy was coughing from the smoke permeating the air. She watched curiously as the child was quickly ushered away by his mother. So focused on the spectacle before her, Calina did not notice the growing mass of people forming in front of the blazing cathedral, as cars stopped in the middle of the road to witness the destruction. Two firefighters were corralling the people away from the blaze, urging people to return home. All around her Calina heard voices of awe and fear and suspicion. Already the rumors were circulating--electrical spark, candle, accident, arson.

Arson--she had been accused of arson in high school, when the storage shed was burnt to nothing. Just like in the empty store aisle, Calina looked around her, afraid that someone might see her and arrive at the wrong conclusion. It appeared no one even acknowledged her presence, making it easy to slip through the crowd as quietly and inconspicuously as she could while still juggling the bags of food. The heavy bags had created shallow red grooves in her arm--how long had she stood staring at the fire?

As she moved further away the crowd thinned out significantly, even more so as she moved away from the front. As she cleared the edges of the mob, she took a calming breath of the nighttime air. Unable to restrain herself, she turned around to gaze one last time at the once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, the handsome church engulfed and enshrouded by the beautiful, savage fire, listening intently to the creaking wood and stone and the crackle and hiss of the fire.

In that moment a hot breath of air streamed from the church, poured through the crowd and hit Calina like nothing else had ever hit her before. The thing about it was that it didn't really hit her. That gust of wind did not simply touch her skin, ruffle her clothes, and curve around her body like normal, but swept through her as if she were not even there. She could swear that her organs and bones had directly felt the warm air just as much as her skin had. But perhaps more than that, although it must have been in her head, she felt like her soul or spirit or whatever it was had been touched by it.

It scared her. Such a bizarre feeling must indicate that something was wrong with her mental state. After all, she had just had two near incidents of seizure. And she hadn't called anyone yet...

"Hi, this is Calina Frederick. I would like to schedule an appointment with Doctor Ricks..."

All right, then, she thought as she tucked the phone away. That's one more thing I need to remember for tomorrow. Perhaps there was something wrong with her. A tumor or the like. The possibility was frightening, but she could not help but be fascinated by her strange situation. Like the inviting yet dangerous glow of a fire, she wanted to know more about this strange feeling, as if it were more than just a perception in her mind.

Reality crept into its slumber. Sweet fresh air found its way to the beast's prison. Like fuel to fire, the very scent energized it. It had been too long since it had tasted fresh air. Yet it tasted different--something seemed different.

It did not smell fear--this was strange. It tasted sour blood and sickeningly sweet curiosity upon the air, but it could not find the comforting smells and tastes of salty sweat and tears, subtle submission, and bitter fear.

Last time the majority of its prey had a distinct flavor--the people had been miserable and much more wonderful to destroy. Perhaps this is what they were like when they lived ignorant of its existence. Soon, very soon, they would learn.

It was already much too late--everyone who went home was certainly worrying about her. The glowing edge of sunset had already disappeared, leaving the world much darker than she preferred.

Hastening...