The Day The Music Died

**This story may contain offensive language or material, not suitable for most people, please proceed with caution**

“Today hundreds more are under a heat alert, as a blanket of hot air settles in for the fourth day in the row, and it’s only going to get hotter….” RRRRIIIINNNNGGGG

“CAN’T BE ANY WORSE THAN HELL!” Bret yells over the blaring fire alarm as he shuts off the TV and suits up. 

“Boys, we got a 2 alarm apartment fire downtown, possibly victims inside, we need 2 trucks and probably an ambulance” says the Captain. “I’ll give you the details on the way” “REGULATORS! MOUNT UP!” the crew cheers, blaring their horns and sirens.

They arrived at a four story apartment building, half engulfed in flames. Families and neighbors were embracing each other, taking everything in, trying to account for pets and loved ones. The heat and the breeze were intensifying the situation rapidly. 

As the crew were setting up hoses, Bret ran to the crowd “Everybody needs to back up, and give us room! We need people to go to the surrounding houses and get them out in case this spreads. Are there any people or animals in the building?”

“There’s a disabled man on the first floor with a cat, we couldn’t get into his house!” yelled one elderly woman. 

“There might be a woman on the 3rd floor!” yelled someone else. 

“John! First floor, elderly man and his cat!” Bret yells to one of his crew, as he looks up to the third floor. “Let’s get some water up there” he motions toward the third floor. 

“Thank you for your help, please follow up with the cops and paramedics!” Brett tapped Mike, “me and you, third floor, someone may be up there.” “Gotcha!” Mike said, as he grabbed his ax and followed suit.

Meanwhile, John kicked in the door to the elderly man’s house, while the rest of the crew cleared the other apartments. Smoke billowed out. He wasn’t seeing a lot of flames, just smoke. John called out to the man, but heard nothing. No surprise with the amount of smoke, he thought. Room after room he cleared, until he got to the back of the house. In the dining room he saw what looked like two lime green orbs hovering in the smoke. They were tennis balls from a toppled walker. Near the walker, he saw slippers on the kitchen floor. The man was passed out on the kitchen floor, his gray and white cat laying on his body. The cat looked weak and scared, but relieved to see him. The old man was sickly looking, small, pale, but alive, just unconscious from the smoke. John put his oxygen on the guy and scooped him up, and the cat jumped on his back, clinging for dear life. All three headed out to safety. John radioed his findings to his Captain and asked for a medic on stand by.

Bret and Mike tried making their way to the third floor. Mike was on the second floor landing, and when he went to take a step up, the stair fell through, nearly taking Mike with it. Mike and Bret stumbled back, calling out to anyone who might be up there. Bret turned to Mike, “we can’t risk it, get the guys on the ladder.” Mike radioed in for the ladder as he and Bret headed back outside. 

Bret led the way on the ladder, Mike followed the lead. As the ladder reached the third floor, Bret shattered the front windows. More smoke billowed out, but so did the flames. Bret called out again, but saw and heard nothing. With the windows broken, the air was fueling the fire. It began to grow insanely fast. Bret and Mike had to get out of there. As they pulled out, another truck pulled up to help put the fire out. It took 4-5 hours to put it out completely. The guys went in one last time to check for hot spots, victims and find any clues to how it started.

The house was old from the 70’s. It looked like it had an addition added on to it, splitting it directly in half by a brick wall. That brick wall kept a lot of the fire contained to one side of the house. And seeing that most of the damage was on the upper half of the building, it seemed as if the fire had started somewhere at the top and worked its way down. Ironically, Bret and Mike were looking for someone who may have been upstairs. Using the ladder, Brett and Mike cautiously entered the third floor apartment through a large bay window. Judging by the charred couches, they were in a living room. The apartment was deceivingly big. The neighbor said a female in here 40s lived here. Her kids recently moved out and her husband was on the road. Nobody knew for sure if she was home or not. She seemingly worked from home. The home seemed neat, but crowded. Although the kids moved out, it seemed like she still kept a lot of their stuff around, or what was left of it. They cleared room after room, careful not to fall through the floor. They were about to let out a sigh of relief when they saw a closed door, the only closed door in the whole house, aside from the entry. Bret pulled on it and it didn’t budge. The door seemed locked, but from the inside. He gave Mike a concerning look, Mike pried the door open with his ax, gasped and jumped back. There was the woman. She was in a chair, charred up. The fire seemingly started there. Now it was considered a crime scene. Bret radioed his findings to the Captain. A few minutes later the Captain made his way over, cautiously. 

“She was in this room, with the door locked from the inside” Bret said pointing to the door. The Captain looked at the door. “Locked and tied” He said pointing to the melted rope-like material near the door. “That’s just fucking weird” Mike blurted out. “Why would you lock and tie yourself into a room?” He said confused. “And what is all this melted stuff up here?” Bret pointed to the areas above and around the top of the room. 

“What kind of room is this anyway? It’s too small to be a bedroom, and the office was clearly over there” said Mike gesturing outside the room. “Maybe a panic room?” suggested Bret. 

“Listen Scooby and Shaggy, leave the mystery to the cops, but do share some of your findings, capeesh?”

“Zoinks!” said Bret sarcastically, in his best Shaggy voice, “Like, sure boss!” 

“Besides, I already solved the mystery boys….” the Captain gestured to the blackened “On Air” light outside the door. “She was a singer, or a wannabe one at least. This is a homemade studio booth. The melted stuff everywhere is soundproof foam and charred blankets. She was probably in here recording and had an electrical fire. The fire spread quickly to the blankets and foam she used as sound proofing. With her being tied and locked in here, she didn’t have a chance to get out fast enough, poor thing.”

The next morning, the news was on again at the station. "Sad news downtown, after yesterday's fire claimed the life of a local singer and content creator. She was recording a song when an electrical fire broke out trapping her in her home studio. Another resident suffered smoke inhalation, but he and his cat are going to be okay. Although the residents were displaced by the fire, there were no other reported fatalities. Now over to you Charles with the weather" "Thanks Bill, sadly it's going to be yet another scorcher...."

"Ha! No pun intended?" said Bret as he shut off the TV and headed out to another fire.