Chapter 8 - The Ascent into Hell

Arthur didn't hesitate. He charged up the grand marble staircase two steps at a time, ignoring the heat radiating down from the burning ceiling above.
The air on the second floor was thick, toxic, smelling of burning velvet, old paper, and varnish. Sparks showered down around him like rain as the heavy plaster cornices began to crack and crumble under the intense heat.
"Mr. Pendelton!" Maria sobbed, holding Clara against her chest as she crouched near the marble balustrade. "The door... the fireplace exploded! It was filled with kerosene!"
Kerosene. Eleanor hadn't just used discipline. She had set a trap. She had primed the master bedroom fireplace hours before Arthur even arrived home, waiting for someone to light the evening fire, or using a remote timer to ignite it once they were trapped inside.
"Give me Clara!" Arthur commanded, scooping his younger daughter into his right arm while grabbing Lily’s trembling hand with his left. "Stay right behind me! Don't look up, just run!"
The fire roared like a jet engine above their heads, the heat melting the gold leaf on the picture frames along the wall. The famous oil portrait of Julianna—the one Eleanor hated so deeply—was already engulfed in flames, the canvas bubbling and blackening into ash before their eyes.
Arthur led them down the burning staircase, shielding the children with his own body as falling embers singed his wet jacket.
They reached the ground floor just as a massive, burning timber crashed down onto the landing behind them, shattering the marble steps and cutting off the upper level entirely.
They burst out of the smoke-filled foyer onto the rain-drenched portico.
Maria collapsed onto the wet marble, gasping for air, holding Clara tightly as the little girl wept into her neck. Arthur set Lily down beside them, checking her body frantically for burns.
"Are you hurt? Either of you?!" he asked, his hands shaking as he touched Lily's face.
"I'm okay, Daddy," Lily whimpered, her face black with soot, but her eyes clear. "Where is Eleanor?"
May you like
Arthur stood up, turning his eyes back toward the gravel driveway.
The driveway was empty.