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> [Simulation 11 initiated. Subject: Trey O'Malley. Scenario: Firefighter. Location: Harrowridge Village.]
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The smell of smoke invaded Trey's nostrils before he could even open his eyes. When he did, he found himself standing in the middle of an old countryside town, wrapped in an ominous fog. His breathing echoed inside the mask of a firefighter's helmet. In his gloved hands, he held an axe. The fog was thick, curling around the empty streets like living tendrils. Everything was silent, too silent.
Then—
*Screams.*
A child's scream pierced the suffocating quiet. Trey's head snapped toward the sound. A house across the street was ablaze, flames licking through broken windows, smoke billowing like a black storm.
Without thinking, Trey rushed inside. The smoke hit him like a wall, stinging his eyes and clawing at his throat. He pushed through, stepping over collapsed beams and smoldering furniture.
"Where are you?!" he shouted.
From the top of the burning staircase, a small silhouette appeared. A child, trembling, arms reaching out. The flames twisted and danced around them, like they were alive.
"I'm coming!" Trey called out. He forced himself up the unstable stairs, every creak beneath his boots threatening to collapse.
He grabbed the child, but as he lifted them, the skin peeled off like wet paper. The child's eyeless face turned toward him, lips curled into a sickening smile.
Trey stumbled back, heart pounding.
"What the hell—"
Suddenly,
**FLASHBACK.**
A memory surged violently into Trey's head. He wasn't Trey anymore. He was someone else, years ago, standing in front of a burning house — his house — screaming for help. His parents were trapped inside, pounding on the windows. His younger sibling called for him from an upstairs window. His legs froze. He screamed but couldn't move. Helpless, he watched as the house crumbled, burying his family in flames. Their screams never left him.
Back to the present, Trey gasped. The house around him morphed, walls warping, shifting into a nearly identical copy of the house from the memory. He was no longer in the foggy town; he was inside *that* house.
The charred corpse of the child stood at the top of the stairs again, now joined by others—his parents. Their skin blackened, their hollow eyes staring straight into him.
"You left us," they whispered in unison.
The air grew heavy, choking him. Trey dropped his axe, staggering backward as the corpses slowly descended the stairs, the flames parting for them. His body refused to move.
"Please... no..." he whimpered.
Suddenly, their hands shot out, grabbing him by the arms and dragging him toward the flames. His struggles were useless. They pulled him deeper, their burned fingers tightening, leaving marks.
He broke free, crashing into a wall, scrambling to the door—but every exit was sealed. He smashed a window with his fists, shards cutting deep, but the outside was nothing but void.
As the flames surged closer, the corpses cornered him.
"Come burn with us..." they murmured, stretching their hands.
He screamed, swinging wildly, but they pressed on, overwhelming him. One grabbed his head, forcing him to look directly into their melting face.
Then—
The flames swallowed him whole.
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> [SIMULATION OVER.]
> [Subject vital signs: Stable.]
> [Simulation log successfully recorded.]
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