The Absurd Request

"No" Ezra gritted through his teeth, fighting the urge to obey. His chest heaved as he pressed his palms to his sides, struggling to contain the searing heat. His body screamed with the need to unleash the flames, but his mind, sharp with clarity, refused. He didn't want to burn the professor.

He focused on the space between him and the man, the fire licking at the edges of his vision but never fully engulfing him. Sweat beaded across his forehead, his body aching as the flames responded to his emotions—fury, fear, and desperation.

His heart hammered against his ribcage, his blood pounding in his ears.

The professor, still struggling to maintain his grip on Ezra's throat, seemed oblivious to the full extent of the fire creeping around Ezra's form. Ezra could feel the burning heat on his skin, could feel the power building within him, but he fought it back.

"No…" he murmured through clenched teeth, blood dripping from his tongue as he bit it harder to maintain control.

The voice in his head pressed against his will, urging him to give in. But Ezra fought it with everything he had. His feet felt like they were sinking into the earth, his hands trembling from the intensity of the flames.

Every fiber of his being screamed to release the power, but he pushed back, fighting the surge with every ounce of his strength. His breath came in ragged gasps, his vision flickering, the edges blurring with the overwhelming heat.

"Let go…" the voice whispered again, softer, almost pleading now, coaxing him to surrender.

Ezra gritted his teeth, shaking his head violently as the pressure in his chest grew. His heart raced, pounding in his ears as the flames licked at his skin, eager to burn everything in their path.

'No', he thought desperately. 'I can't lose control.'

But it was too much. His body was losing the battle. The voice became louder, almost deafening in his mind, urging him to let go, to unleash the full force of the fire.

His eyes rolled back into his head, and for a moment, the world seemed to spin around him. The flames surged higher, their heat unbearable. Ezra felt himself slipping, consumed by the very thing he feared most—losing control. The fire that had once felt like an extension of his body now overwhelmed him, threatening to burn away everything he knew.

In that moment, everything went still, like the entire world had paused, leaving only the roar of the flames in his ears. His body trembled uncontrollably, the heat pressing against his skin, his mind drowning in chaos. The voice was gone now, replaced by a deafening silence that seemed to suffocate him.

He saw himself falling, his vision blurred as the ground rushed up to meet him. There was no pain, no sensation, just the sudden darkness that claimed him.

He woke and found himself in an unfamiliar place .

His fingers brushed against the rough fabric of the bed, and he looked around, taking in his surroundings. The cabin was small, rustic, with wooden beams stretching across the ceiling and a stone fireplace on the far wall. The faint smell of wood and earth filled the air. Sunlight streamed in through a small window, casting warm rays over everything.

Ezra winced, clutching his throat as a dull ache throbbed there. His eyes scanned the room—there were no signs of the professor, just a modest setup. A simple bed, a chair beside a small table, and some scattered papers. Everything was quiet.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing unsteadily as he tried to get his bearings. The room was plain, but there was something oddly peaceful about it, a stark contrast to the chaos he had just endured.

As he made his way to the door, his mind raced.

'What had happened after I passed out?

Who had brought me here? What was that voice telling him to "burn"?'

Ezra stood frozen in place, his mind racing as he watched the professor—no, the man—continue chopping wood as if the events of the previous day hadn't even happened. The same man who had nearly strangled him, who had lost himself in rage.

'Would he attack me again?' Ezra thought, his body instinctively bracing itself for another assault. He wasn't sure what to expect. Part of him wanted to run, but another part, a much deeper part, knew that would only make things worse.

As the professor turned to face him, Ezra couldn't help but notice how messy his hair was, hanging in his face like a tangled curtain, yet he still seemed to see him clearly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Ezra stood frozen, unsure of whether to be enraged or confused. The man before him had just tried to strangle him, and now he was treating it like some kind of casual misunderstanding. The nonchalance in his voice made Ezra's stomach turn.

"You know, it's weird to pass out in front of someone," the man said, his tone dripping with mockery. "I thought you hanged yourself, but then I didn't see a rope. Your neck was all purple and blue… you had me quite confused."

Ezra blinked, the words barely registering in his brain. 'Hanging himself?'

He struggled to process the bizarre idea that the professor had somehow gotten this impression of him.

'What? Is this guy serious?'

The professor, seeming entirely unfazed by Ezra's silence, dropped the axe, wiping his brow with a casual flick of his wrist. A faint chuckle escaped him as he looked at Ezra.

"You're fine. You didn't die. Though I was half-expecting you to. This place isn't exactly the best place to go out. You should think about the people living here—especially me. I wouldn't want to deal with your corpse afterward. Glad to see I was wrong."

Ezra could barely contain his frustration. He was still trying to process what had happened and here this man was, treating it all as a joke.

The professor didn't seem to notice, or care, about Ezra's mounting anger. He casually adjusted his robe and sighed as though this was all a regular day's work.

"But then again, my hand was burning. I've got tough skin, so… huh, whatever. Maybe I stuck it in the fire or something. Anyway, now that I've saved your life, what will you repay me with? Perhaps money?" He grinned widely, showing a set of straight teeth. "Or how about more alcohol? You know, I'm quite a humble person. So I'll accept anything. Pay up!"

Ezra's mind raced with a mixture of disbelief, rage, and confusion. He wasn't sure whether to laugh at the absurdity of it all or punch the man in the face for the way he was treating the situation.

"So, let me get this straight," Ezra said, his voice dry with sarcasm. "You almost killed me, and now you expect me to thank you with a drink or cash?"