Everything was going perfectly, wasn't it?
There was singing, laughing, dancing, cheering. Music blared through speakers as controller buttons clicked and people whooped, Drias's best friends pressing in on him from all sides as he raced against them.
Archie's poofy red hair kept getting in the way of his view, causing him to both laugh and groan every single time he got far behind the others. He'd blame lag or his vision, but everyone knew he was just bad at Mario Kart anyway. It was always part of the fun to hear him complain.
Meanwhile, Paisley pushed him aside with every movement, being way over the top as she swung her arms from side to side and sped ahead of everyone else. She didn't even have to worry about her hair, considering the fact she always had it pulled behind her head in a messy braid so tight it was a miracle it never gave her a headache. She always had the best luck in her games, always getting the best items the earliest on. She reigned champion of Mario Kart, despite her strange techniques.
Abigail, further down the line, was fully focused, their eyes on nothing but the prize as they danced between obstacles and their mouth slowly turned into a smirk. They kept getting knocked into by Paisley, their prosthetic shifting ever so slightly, earning her a threatening growl each time.
Finally, at the end of the line, Drias sat back, his hands drifting across the buttons as he stuck his tongue out in concentration. Just because he didn't mind if he lost or won didn't mean that he didn't want to win. He was even a little more comfortable then because of the fact Stella stood between him and Ilas; ever since he had told her about what kept happening, Stella never seemed to keep an eye off of either of them. He'd have to thank her for it sometime soon.
Just as Paisley passed the finish line for the second lap, and the excited cheering grew louder for a moment, Dialtone found the room a bit warmer than before. All he could think of to explain it was the feeling of his friends all around him, crushing soda cans and tallying wins for their little mini-tournament.
...But it wasn't a good warmth. It was a loud, sickly warmth, like there was electricity pumping uncomfortably through brittle, flammable veins.
The TV abruptly turned off, and the room turned to groans. Ilas began to get up to find the breaker. "I'll fix it."
But it had already begun. The outlet nearby had burst, a roaring fire beginning to spread all too fast across the dry carpet and climb up the walls easily. It grabbed onto Ilas tightly, it's first victim, clawing at his fair skin and reaching up his arm with long, spindly sparks. He screamed, a scream that pierced the room, a scream in which Drias was horrified he felt no sympathy for.
That was until it grabbed onto Mari as well.
"RUN! RUN! YOU GUYS, RUN!!" Her voice broke as it climbed up her ankles and her calves and then her knees and her thighs and everything was going all too fast.
Trevor didn't listen to her pleas.
The room moved, swayed, bustled with shrieks and emotion, as the fire grew closer and Trevor desperately tried to tug the two out of the flames. But it only made it worse. Before Drias could even react, Trevor was becoming lost in the smoke beginning to fill his lungs as well. Drias couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe.
He shook, not knowing where to go, trying to force his way through the thick gray fog to help the others, but the ash burned his eyes and clouded his reading glasses, and he knew, just knew, they were long gone. And so, he joined the group out of the flames as they retreated, dashing down the stairs.
As the fire spread, the walls began to crumble, supporting beams falling on top of blurry figures in the cloud of dark, dark, dark gray around them. Drias tugged a prosthetic arm out from under a beam, a head crushed under a beautiful, pristine, white pillar, staining it with red. He choked on his emotions and on the fire in his lungs, screaming for help as he couldn't bring himself to leave Abigail's destroyed body alone for a moment, just as he couldn't leave without the others back in their playroom.
Weeping, he went further from the bodies to see Paisley and Archie clinging to eachother, Paisley limping terribly slowly. Drias pushed them forward, supporting Paisley from the other side as he dragged them out of the house, out of the front door, and to safety. "Stay out of the grass, it's dry! GO GET HELP!!"
"But- But what about your family?! Drias, we need to-" Paisley was interrupted by a fit of coughing. "WE NEED TO SAVE THEM!!"
Archie's voice swayed with tears. "NO!! We're going back in!! We stay together!! We're FAMILY, remember?!"
Drias bit his own lip until it bled, stress making his whole body tense up as he squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, pulling them back inside the burning house.
It took too long to find them, all too long. Just when they thought Taika and his mother were both ash, they heard weak wails in the distance.
They all trudged through the smoke together, figures in the far kitchen of the house seeming to clutch each other tightly. A beam of fire descended upon them, and they seemed to have both given up, a mother and a son both taken from their lives all too quickly.
No, no, no, Drias would never let that happen.
"MAMA!" he screeched, diving forward and gripping her wrist with adrenaline-filled strength, pulling them both out. He pointed towards the entrance, choking, coughing, falling to the floor as he felt his body freeze with heat. He grabbed the nearby old rotary phone, dialed 911 as fast as he could, and barked orders into a speaker just as his skin burnt to flesh burnt to bone.
With the last of his strength, he crawled out of the house, billowing with smoke and red and raging fire, falling weakly into the arms of his loving mother who cooed and whispered lullabies into his ear, just as Taika tugged at her pant leg and whined, wailing questions about what could possibly be going on.
As Drias slowly opened his eyes, feeling himself be lowered onto the ground far away from his house, he felt Taika's favorite old blanket be wrapped around him, followed by crying from his poor, six year old baby brother into his ear, begging to know if he was okay.
He tilted his aching head over to look at Taika, slowly sitting up and curling into a ball. He checked over Taika for a moment before looking back up at the house, his house, his home, lost to flames and misfortune. And God only knew where Stella was.
Feeling Taika hug his side, and sirens wail, and water rush to help them all too late, he felt more and more hands on him, and looked up to see his mother wrapping her arms around the both of them and his only friend left looking down at him with an expression somehow more fearful than his own.
Edward. Edward, Edward, Edward.
The winning question. Drias couldn't muster up anything, not being able to do anything but slowly turn away.
He heard Edward breathe heavily, his ragged gasps for air slowly turning into a scream, a terrible scream similar to the ones he couldn't hear anymore from inside the house.
Screams meant that people were still alive. And there wasn't a single sound from the Paisley and Archie left behind in the house.
He told them to stay outside. He begged them to stay outside. Just stay outside.
Drias felt himself get dragged onto a stretcher just as he knew they were gone, just as he knew he had nothing left. Just as he knew the few people he knew now were broken because of him. Just as he knew, just knew, it was all his fault.
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