Chains of Ice
I've been keeping up with my flash fiction practice, so keep an eye out for more posts in the future! This is an older one, with a prompt given to a group of my writer friends. The prompt was to write about a character who has the ability to move heat like a heat pump, to an extreme degree.
Chains of ice suspended the prisoner between walls of frozen steel. The chill in the air permeated every corner of the cell and sank into bone. His lone visitor had been outfitted in the same temperature-resistant suit that held the heat to her just as it prevented heat from reaching him. She stared at him through the glass of her helmet, and he met her gaze.
“You idiot,” she said. Tears beaded at the corners of her eyes. “How could you let yourself get caught?”
“Ten more seconds,” he replied, “and I could have drained the shield generator.”
“It’s not worth losing you.” He thought he heard something deeper in her tone, but she cleared her throat. “You’re our strongest weapon.”
“Do they know you’re here?”
A faint nod. “I’m supposedly conducting an interrogation.” Her gaze wandered to the chains, the walls, the frosty floor. “The Habitat security can’t figure out how a bunch of ‘vagrants and exiles’ got ahold of you.”
“They don’t know.” He closed his eyes. “That’s something, at least.”
“We can’t do this without you. Even if we had a hundred double-agents, they still have the shields and lasers.” She brought her hands to the base of her helmet and started working the latches. “You’re the more important… and they won’t be able to stop you.”
His stomach dropped. “No, I can’t.”
She pulled the helmet free, and then her heat was his for the taking. He felt it, rising from her skin in velvety waves. “You will.” The tears that had been glistening finally fell. “That’s an order.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
He pulled.
The heat drew away from her in rolling, gentle billows. It pooled into his hands and flowed into his chest, as her skin grew pale and grey. She knelt so she wouldn’t fall, and then he pulled the last of it, and she became still.
He swallowed against a hot, wretched emotion, focusing it instead to the ice encasing his wrists. His skin flared like embers and the ice gave way. He crashed to the floor. Pulling every mote of heat from the corners of his cell, he pushed a palm to the door and it burst outward into molten metal.
Guards came running. They collapsed before they could lay a hand on him—heat wrenched from one and dumped into another, torn from the hot metal and whirled down the hallway. A glance back at her cold body brought a new rush of fury.
He squared his shoulders. They’d thought he was dangerous before.
They had no idea.
---
Chains of ice suspended the prisoner between walls of frozen steel. The chill in the air permeated every corner of the cell and sank into bone. His lone visitor had been outfitted in the same temperature-resistant suit that held the heat to her just as it prevented heat from reaching him. She stared at him through the glass of her helmet, and he met her gaze.
“You idiot,” she said. Tears beaded at the corners of her eyes. “How could you let yourself get caught?”
“Ten more seconds,” he replied, “and I could have drained the shield generator.”
“It’s not worth losing you.” He thought he heard something deeper in her tone, but she cleared her throat. “You’re our strongest weapon.”
“Do they know you’re here?”
A faint nod. “I’m supposedly conducting an interrogation.” Her gaze wandered to the chains, the walls, the frosty floor. “The Habitat security can’t figure out how a bunch of ‘vagrants and exiles’ got ahold of you.”
“They don’t know.” He closed his eyes. “That’s something, at least.”
“We can’t do this without you. Even if we had a hundred double-agents, they still have the shields and lasers.” She brought her hands to the base of her helmet and started working the latches. “You’re the more important… and they won’t be able to stop you.”
His stomach dropped. “No, I can’t.”
She pulled the helmet free, and then her heat was his for the taking. He felt it, rising from her skin in velvety waves. “You will.” The tears that had been glistening finally fell. “That’s an order.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
He pulled.
The heat drew away from her in rolling, gentle billows. It pooled into his hands and flowed into his chest, as her skin grew pale and grey. She knelt so she wouldn’t fall, and then he pulled the last of it, and she became still.
He swallowed against a hot, wretched emotion, focusing it instead to the ice encasing his wrists. His skin flared like embers and the ice gave way. He crashed to the floor. Pulling every mote of heat from the corners of his cell, he pushed a palm to the door and it burst outward into molten metal.
Guards came running. They collapsed before they could lay a hand on him—heat wrenched from one and dumped into another, torn from the hot metal and whirled down the hallway. A glance back at her cold body brought a new rush of fury.
He squared his shoulders. They’d thought he was dangerous before.
They had no idea.
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