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FFM Day 4 - Red Fire, Cold Decision

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Yisa’s father knew about her before her mother did, he always said he had an inkling, The Inkling. His third eye saw many things despite it’s covering of hair, Yisa saw things too, exactly as fleeting, but polar opposite in manner. Where he saw souls, she saw words, often literal ethereally floating letters that danced across her otherwise perfect vision. Life was hard for freaks like them - with agents constantly on their tails - though her father would often try to help, he’d tell his daughter about the soul of her’s that he could see. He’d tell Yisa that her soul was lighter than a feather, but with a dark, contrasting edge that defined its character.

She’d always taken this to mean that her character, her soul, was deep and strong - as beautiful as the light side was, it had the shadow to fight.

But Yisa had to grow up and it wasn’t too many years before Arisawa, the man with the hidden third eye buried under his hair, had finally floated from his mortal coil. Leaving a lonely Yisa to attempt to understand the confusing mess of symbols that weaved around in the moments that her vision fogged and the real world fell away. They appeared only in dribs and drabs at first, in ways unlike before, almost complete sentences. It was maddening - these letters forming words, sentences that clearly meant something for how often they appeared, yet Yisa was clueless.

Fault dwells no day…

Her life was one marred by ‘special agents’. They tended to keep close tabs on freaks - those with extra eyes, foresight or an uncanny ability to disappear, made the rest of the world nervous. Orders soon came for all of those who possessed abilities beyond the normal to be detained, by force if necessary.

Yisa went into hiding in an abandoned warehouse - old-school, yes - but effective for as long as she lay under the wire. The problems with old buildings, though, was that they didn’t exactly meet fire-safely standards and by the time they caught up to her, they were past the negotiation stage.

Fire burnt cold within…

High up on the tenth floor she thought she was safe, but the shots fired by the agents ignited the kindling and smoke filled the building quicker than any had anticipated. The agents were quickly overcome by their own foolish haste.

If Yisa returned to save her pursuers, avoiding the flames, she could haul them out of the escape door on the ground, but there was an escape door right beside her. They’d followed her ruthlessly, they could suffer. She darted out of the escape door, it slammed locked behind her as she threw herself down the first few steps before looking ahead, seeing the rest of the metal stair case was gone. It lay in a twisted heap fifty feet below her in the alley way; a morbid mockery of her decision making.

Cold day burnt by fire
desperation dwells within
escape alone? Fault.