The dilapidated factory would be torn down once the case ended. Eleven dead in a mysterious fire. I would have liked to get a picture of the fire. Better still, one of the men burning… banging on the door screaming… hands flailing… Could have made good money out of that.
Stepping over rotting planks, I inhale deeply. Charred smell lingers, almost like last weekend’s barbecue. The thought makes me laugh.
A sudden waft and the door bangs shut plunging me into darkness. Groping inside my bag, I pull out the flash light. That’s when I see them, singed, smoky; and as they walk towards me, the flames flare again.
In response to the Friday Fictioneers challenge of 29 September 2017 based on a photo by J. Hardy Carroll.
Leaking Ink 
A living nightmare. Should’ve stayed outside.
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Should not have angered the spirits with his insensitivity.
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Yikes. Tres creepy.
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Sorry, but glad it worked.
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Dear Sheena,
So much for a photo opp. This person better run like the wind. Very creepy.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Bad thoughts elicit bad karma. Thank you.
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Like the obnoxious ‘voice’ in this, Sheena. As a reader I find myself feeling little sympathy for him, and more for the flaming ghost. Nice one.
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Insensitive and self-absorbed people need no sympathy. Thank you for reading.
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Holy wow. This is awesome!
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Thank you so much.
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