A short story long

Smiles ,greetings, even sometimes some laughter. Working at this place gave Sam a warm feeling. So warm.. like a burning…

Sam shook the image away as the blooded fingertips of his gloves glided over the hat next to him. It was like a baker finishing the icing of the cake with his fingers, Dancing around the edge, smoothing out the top. He grabbed the hat , pushing away the memories and slowly placed it on his head , covered by the gas mask as a soft wheeze past trough the filter, fitting the sound of a sigh. He grabbed the gas pump handle of his flamethrower and tapped on the filter of his gas mask to make sure it was fitting right. Some people don’t think it would matter that little filter. That Sam lungs were dead already, but that little filter was the thing that was making him re-spawn without dieing instantly. He chuckled at the thought and stared at his flamethrower. Home-made like all of his stuff but this one was dear to him . He wiped the blood of the car muffler at the end of it but cursed as the only thing he did was wiping it all over it. He growled and sat down on the ground trying to wipe it off as everyone look at him. Sam kept cursing wondering how blood even could get there. He kept wiping and wiping.

And wiping. “All clean sir” The man gave him a tip and Sam smiled. Tipping his hat as the man drove off. He went back inside as he pulled the engraved lighter out his pocket. The memento from his dad was the thing he played with the most. On and off, hot and cold, .. He kept flipping the cap back on it as he smiled. The next car arrived and gave a honk that startled Sam , He accidentally dropped the lighter as he quickly ran outside “ Sorry sir, I was distracted there” “ It’s Ok son, fill her up please “ Sam nodded and grabbed the gas pump , putting the nozzle into place, knowing he was gonna do this for a long time. He smiled. He didn’t mind if he had to do this for the rest of his life. He like the smell of the gasoline, the old feeling of the entire station, the shining metal of the cars leaving here. It gave him a satisfactory feeling. Like a warm fireplace burning inside…

Sam finally got those stains off. As he looked up everyone was gone. “Mmmphh-mphhhh-mmphh?” He walked to the giant metal door as it automatically raised. He could hear the sound of his teammates shouting for the medic, crying their taunts. Did he zoned out? He quickly ran back in as he strapped the car battery a bit tighter to the ancient car jack to then strap the construction to his back, under the oxygen tank. Running outside with his flamethrower. He heard a familiar sound and as he turned his head to see a spy decloak, disguising himself as demoman . Sam let out a chuckle. He knew 2Fort like his back pocket. He ran after him down the stairs. This spy was a smart one, holding out the stickybomb launcher , like he is going to protect the intelligence. Sam doesn’t wait any longer and unleashes hell. He holds in the pump as flames erupt from the device, the spy’s disguise worth nothing now. The spy yelled for a medic as his body started to crisp and burn. Sam dropped flamethrower and grabbed the powerjack, smashing it into the spy’s skull with all his might. The spy doesn’t move, speak nor disappear anymore. He lies there burning as Sam turns around. Finally moving to the other fort, the stench of burning spy starts to bring back memories.

Playing carelessly with his lighter, Sam was sitting behind the counter, inside of his little workplace. The flame kept fascinating him, how the heat dances into the bright colors and how it could be ended with a click. He flicked the cap back on the lighter but… It didn’t sound as the normal click. “ Hands up” Sam looked up right into the barrel of a shotgun. His body froze as he looked at the man carrying a well placed balaclava over his head. “ Didn’t you hear the man? Hands up and give us the money! “ His eyes looked to the side as he saw a second man carrying a pistol that he held tightly. Sam started to panic. He was going to die wasn’t he? “ Come on Give us the money” “ Ok ok ok let me get it…” he went to his knees as he opened the closet with the safe in it . He heard the man next to him saying to his companion to take guard outside. As he turned to the first digit Sam saw the old jack of his dad, laying just in his reach. He turned for the next digit as he reached for the jack with his other hand. He only had one chance, one shot. Right when he started to turn for the third and last digit he stood up and slammed the jack into the guys head. He didn’t even yell. He just fell to his knees to then fall on his back. The guy holding guard stormed in as Sam ducked behind the counter. “ You will pay for this fucker!! You’ll pay!! “ Sam held his hands over his head as he feared what was yet to come. But when the gunshot didn’t come he looked up over the counter. His eyes went wide as he saw the crook using the gas pump to spray the gasoline everywhere. In a split second they make eye contact, the man holding the pump as he walks away far enough.. Sam knows what’s next. He runs out the backdoor as fast as he can. Up the hill behind the station as he hears the inevitable explosion. Sam gets thrown on the ground as the air get filled with the scent of burning gasoline. He gets up and looks to that station engulfed in flames as tears start to roll down his face. He sees the flames dance in his dreams, The heat crossing over his future. And still Sam feels like playing with the flames. The crying turning into a smiling and eventually turning into a maniacally laughing

Sam’s flamethrower sometimes doesn’t seem to have an off switch. As he walks trough the fort he burns a scout attempting to sneak behind the sentries. The boy screams as he tries to run, Sam not able to keep up “Mmmphh-mphhhh” Suddenly a yell sounds as a soldier drops dead behind him dropping his gun. Sam looked at it for a brief second , picking it up and shooting the scout quickly, the boy’s dead body , crashing into the wall. “Mmmph!!” He shouted , wrapping the shotgun to his leg. Sam’s hands started to twitch as he quickly picked up his flamethrower again, letting out a lil burst of flames followed by a satisfied wheeze from the filter. He couldn’t last long with other weapons. He needed the flames. They were warm, protecting and dancing.. dancing around to protect him.. to avenge him.. even when he gets downed.

He walks trough the ashes of his former station as he smiles. The scent is so good. The scent of the burned wood and.. he lifts one of the wooden support beam to find the lighter he lost in all the commotion.. His fingers dance over the side, wiping off the ashes, cleaning the words engraved in the lighter “ Fiery love never ends “ Sam grinned as he stands up and puts the lighter in his newly acquired asbestos suit. Grabbing his homemade flamethrower walking to the city he once loved… going to burn it till the last brick..

Sam rested on his back in the spawn, his filter muffling the humming he does. Humming while outside 2Fort lies covered in burned bodies. Humming happily while his rubber gloves play with a lighter. Covered in scratches and burn marks. But faintly u could read in the side “ Fiery love eventually burns up “.