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pepperdee · 3 years

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Flash Fiction Friday: Ruined and Destroyed

@flashfictionfridayofficial

WIP: The Curse of Hyetal #1: The Lost Empire

POV: Seward J. Dean

WC: 989

Possible warnings: burned bodies, bomb mention

Eyyy this was fun!! My first Flash Fiction Friday y'all!! And it's not from Dedrick or Rose's point of view! Kind of because if I DID use their point of view my only option is.........spoilers

The Bax Cola Explosion

The abandoned Bax Cola factory has exploded, and Seward is in charge of the investigation. What he finds turns a tragedy into a vendetta.

“I didn’t know this place was here.”

The Bax Cola factory closed twenty years ago when some soda company in Ikkezar bought out the company and moved all its production to the Kingdoms. Officer Beltran sat in the passenger seat next to Seward, staring in awe at the burned husk of a factory.

Seward mumbled some nonspecific “Neither did I” lie as he navigated his truck through the thick crowd of reporters and nosy onlookers. With any luck, one would get run over and finally leave their investigations alone.

Reporters swarmed the Enforcement officers as they climbed out of the truck. Namely, they swarmed Seward. He was Reigner Langley’s right hand. Seward basically did his job for him.

“Who do you believe was behind this?”

“Is this a terrorist attack?”

“Was it rosers?”

Dumb, fear-mongering questions bombarded Seward, but luckily, he wasn’t stuck. “No comment,” he declared loudly. He activated his Trick, carefully allowing the soles of his feet to be solid so he didn’t have to worry about falling into Salren’s core. He walked right through them, like a ghost.

Beltran stumbled through a moment later, fixing his hair. “That’s a handy trick you got there,” he huffed.

“Should’a got yours when you had the chance,” Seward said, ducking under the perimeter tape. Beltran laughed, but Seward was serious. Intangibility was the most useful thing he could have gotten. Seward never had to worry about being locked out of anywhere or surrounded by blood-thirsty reporters. The Goddess knew exactly what she was doing when she granted him his Trick.

Funny, what was her name again?

It didn’t matter anymore. Ashor closed ten years ago.

Firefighters jogged around the smoldering factory. They contained the fire pretty well: Floods doused flames, Blazes willed fire to die, and earth-Terras smothered whatever was left. Beltran, a Jewel, probably would have been safe going into the building with Seward, but Seward didn’t want to risk the place toppling onto him.

Frost collected on Seward’s clothes, forming a protective barrier. “I want statements,” he said, glancing at their reinforcements. “Figure out who saw what.”

Beltran, being one of Seward’s most trusted officers, nodded dutifully. Seward climbed into the rubble. The firefighters knew better than to stop him.

The place stank with hot metal and burning rubble. Seward pressed his sleeve to his nose as he carefully made his way under crooked doorways and creaking columns. Ahead, he saw the reflective coat of the fire captain, crouching over…

“Gele Grace,” Seward groaned.

Three bodies. Charred. Unidentifiable without extensive testing. They were lined up too perfectly for them to have been alive when the place went up. This wasn’t the first time a burning building ended up with three victims. If he was right, then at least two of them would have broken throats and broken legs.

Captain grimaced behind his soot mask, his yellow eyes glowing through. He guided Seward toward cleared section of rubble. “Bombs set the place off,” he said, gesturing to the scorch marks. “Unless one of these was a Blaze, I don’t see how any one of them could’ve set them off.”

“Any chance more fire was made by a Blaze?” asked Seward. “Any flammable material?”

“When the structure’s more sound, I’ll have my people do some testing,” said Captain.

“Great,” muttered Seward, his eyes falling on the victims again. The one in the middle bothered him. In every one of the similar cases, one had been a kid. A teenager. They all reminded Seward of Aussie’s kids.

There wasn’t much left to see. Everything had been burned good. Seward climbed out of the factory. Officer Kraft waited for him outside. “Well?”

“Three victims,” Seward said. “One young.”

Kraft sighed, shaking his head. “This is the Jensen boy all over again,” he said, scratching his stubbly face. Worry filled his eyes. Like he was scared one day he’d come to another burned building with three bodies and find out that the youngest one is Harmony, his daughter.

Seward wasn’t much for sympathy when it came to Kraft. The guy was dim and shouldn’t have become an Enfo, but that was Langley’s decision. “It’s The Host,” he said, keeping his voice low.

“I don’t think it could be anything else,” Kraft said.

Kraft had been investigating this for years, but hardly made any headway. Didn’t have an idea about where they were going next, even though the pattern has been consistent. Seward couldn’t do anything about it. The only thing Seward didn’t have control of was Langley.

Seward didn’t have time to investigate himself, what with basically running an Empire while his lazy boss tried on fine suits, laughed with his friends, and ignored his sons, even his surrogate sons. Not that Seward was bitter.

Seward left Kraft to stare off, pulling out his phone. If there was one woman who could do a better job than Kraft, well…

“Hey, Aus,” Seward said once the line clicked. Aussie grumbled sleepily on the line, which was odd, considering it was eight and Aussie woke up at five. “I need a favor.”

“What kind?” Aussie kept his voice low.

“Bezarago,” Seward named. “I have this case—”

“Can’t do it,” said Aussie, a door shutting behind him. Seward frowned. “She…she died yesterday. The hurricane. We’re in the Isles.”

Seward’s heart fell. “Shit,” he whispered, which was basically I’m sorry in Seward.

“I’ll be back in a week. We’ll…we’ll talk then.” Aussie hung up.

Seward stared at the factory’s remains, strangely relieved. At least it’s not Clove, Rose, or Lily. He wouldn’t know what Aussie would do if one of them died. Didn’t know what he would do. They were his niece and nephew, after all.

His phone rang again, and as the missing children report came through, his stomach dropped. Eric and Maggie Beltran. Neither of them were in their beds, and their father, interviewing firefighters fifty feet to Seward’s right, had no idea.

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