Living from Fire: A new Fanfic from the imagination of Climperoonie

[Climperoonie]

CHAPTER 1:
The Dawn​

On a cold night in a dark alley, at the east side of Manhattan, a blaze of fire errupted. It died down, leaving a young boy, about 15, naked, huddled in his feotal posistion. He lifted a shaking head and looked around. Something was odd about him. He looked human, but if you saw him, you would think he wasn't. You would get the feeling that this boy wasn't natural. He stood up, and walked over to a bin. He lifted the lid and fond some manky, ragged, old clothes. He slipped them on and looked up. He smiled, and his eyes seemed to burn with magma and fire.
Barry Jones was walking home from work. He was an accountant, and his shift was usually 10am-3:50pm. Today though his boss had told him he had to stay and work late, but he didn't say how late. Now there he was, walking home at half 9 at night. He turned a corner and saw a young boy walking toward him. At least he thought it was a young boy. He couldn't help thinking this boy wasn't a boy. He was wearing some smelly rags.
"Are you alright?" He asked. The boy didn't answer, he just walked right up to him and placed his hand on his chest.
"What're you-ARGH!" A column of fire errupted from the boy's hand, and blasted a smoking hole straight through Barry's chest. His lifeless body dropped to the ground. The boy smiled, and ripped the suit off of the dead body.

"What happened here?" Police Officer Daniel Marshall asked one of the guards near the crime scene.
"Barry Jones has been killed. There's a massive hole through his chest, looks like it was made from fire. Also, he has been stripped naked, and his veins are an unusual orange colour."
"Right, do you know how this happened?"
"We think it could be the work of a Pyromaniac."
Daniel walked over to corpse, that had already been half-zipped up in a body bag.
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Well, I hope you like my first chapter, I'll post some more tomorrow!

 

[Kevin Roegele]

CHAPTER 1:
The Dawn​

On a cold night in a dark alley, at the east side of Manhattan, a blaze of fire errupted. It died down, leaving a young boy, about 15, naked, huddled in his feotal posistion. He lifted a shaking head and looked around. Something was odd about him. He looked human, but if you saw him, you would think he wasn't. You would get the feeling that this boy wasn't natural. He stood up, and walked over to a bin. He lifted the lid and fond some manky, ragged, old clothes. He slipped them on and looked up. He smiled, and his eyes seemed to burn with magma and fire.
Barry Jones was walking home from work. He was an accountant, and his shift was usually 10am-3:50pm. Today though his boss had told him he had to stay and work late, but he didn't say how late. Now there he was, walking home at half 9 at night. He turned a corner and saw a young boy walking toward him. At least he thought it was a young boy. He couldn't help thinking this boy wasn't a boy. He was wearing some smelly rags.
"Are you alright?" He asked. The boy didn't answer, he just walked right up to him and placed his hand on his chest.
"What're you-ARGH!" A column of fire errupted from the boy's hand, and blasted a smoking hole straight through Barry's chest. His lifeless body dropped to the ground. The boy smiled, and ripped the suit off of the dead body.

"What happened here?" Police Officer Daniel Marshall asked one of the guards near the crime scene.
"Barry Jones has been killed. There's a massive hole through his chest, looks like it was made from fire. Also, he has been stripped naked, and his veins are an unusual orange colour."
"Right, do you know how this happened?"
"We think it could be the work of a Pyromaniac."
Daniel walked over to corpse, that had already been half-zipped up in a body bag.
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Well, I hope you like my first chapter, I'll post some more tomorrow!

Little tip: when writing numbers in prose, actually write them, don't use the numerals. Use fifteen, not 15.