Sunday, October 8, 1871:

Having retired for the night, Damon lays on his bed. A room in a boarding house is all he can afford on his meager wages. As it is every night, she is all he can think about. But he also knows that he has no future with her given the glaring differences in their social situations. Glancing at the clock, he sees it's just nine o'clock but with having nothing better to do and knowing that he has to get to the dock early in the morning, he turns over and closes his eyes. Suddenly the sound of the great bell alarming grabs his attention. Fires have been frequent lately so he doesn't doubt that it'll soon be extinguished. It's only when the bell pauses for fifteen minutes before the general alarm sounds, that Damon lurches upright. This alarm is what distinguishes a great fire from a small one. Turning his head to look out of his window, he sees a bright burning light to the southwest. He watches the growing conflagration for a moment becoming more alarmed when he sees red tongues of flame begin to shoot upward and lick at the sky. Jumping out of bed, he quickly slips into his clothes and runs outside to see if there's anything he can do to help.

Once outside, Damon finally gets a first hand look at the magnitude of the fire. The dogs of hell are upon the housetops. The fire is moving northward like an ocean surf on a sand beach. It is already moving and obviously out of control. Swallowing thickly, he watches as columns of flame shoot up from a burning building and in the blink of an eye the wind sweeps in, spreading the fire to the next building which in turns sets the next one ablaze. The scope of it is simply indescribable, it's terrible in its grandeur.

Billows of fire are rolling over the businesses and swallowing up their contents. Walls and roofs are collapsing so fast that the continuous reverberation of the ground quaking beneath his feet is scarcely noticed. Sober men and woman are hurrying through the streets hoping to escape the burning quarters, some with bundles of clothes on their shoulders, others dragging trunks along the sidewalk. Children are trudging at their sides or are borne in their parent's arms. Momentarily distracted by the child's cries, he turns his head back and forth as he tries to get a handle on the what's happening. When someone runs into him, knocking him to the ground, he shakes off the stupor and then jumps to his feet.

Droves of horses are in the road, no doubt galloping to a place of safety. Looking around even more, Damon watches in fear as tall buildings on the other side of the street melt down. Heat breaks the plate glass windows in the lower stories but not the upper ones. All the streets are crowded with fugitives, hastening towards the water. The smoke to the north is so dense that he cannot see the north division where sixty thousand people are likely stampeding in mortal terror to escape the flames.

Running towards State street, Damon glances towards the Feld, Leiter & Company store and to his great surprise, the great artificial fountain isn't running. This scares him even more because it means the pumping engines have been disabled by the burning roof collapsing on top of them. Determined to go down to the black cloud of smoke which is rising away to the southwest, he hurries toward it. At first glance, it looks like already part of the city is lost. Hearing loud detonations, Damon is afraid of the gunpowder and the magazine blowing up, knowing that would only stoke the fire, making it even more deadly than it likely already is. Others were asking for help to pull down the buildings but there were not tools available.

The wind continues to blow fiercely from the southwest. If it chops around to the north, the burning embers will blow back to the South Division. If it veers east, it would be blown to the west division. Although the river affords some protection, it's all anyone can do to keep ahead of the flames. Seeing a work team engaging in hauling water, Damon runs over to help. Filling bucket upon bucket of water and then passing it to the stranger beside him, he pushes himself to the brink of exhaustion.

The roar of the fire makes it almost impossible to hear anything. Looking up the sky again, Damon sees the orange tongues of burning flame lick high into the air. Coils of black smoke roll up from the flames for miles as the wind whips them back and forth. Watching all of this unfold before his very eyes, Damon feels his first sense of panic when he realizes that the flames are moving directly towards the opera house.

It's then that he remembers overhearing the man tell her that they would be attending the opera tonight. With his heart slamming like a freight train inside of his chest, he is momentarily frozen in fear. Hearing the clanging of fire wagons shakes him out of it. Dropping the bucket, he breaks out into a run, he pushes himself as hard as he can. Even breathing in the acrid smoke isn't enough to slow him down. Braving and dodging falling debris, he finally reaches his destination.

Seeing the building also aflame, Damon is nearly bowled over by the throngs of people trying to escape the inferno. Gigantic fingers of flame are shooting out from the top of the once grand structure. The wood is crackling, the smoke acrid and nearly suffocating. Yelling her name in case she's one of them, he runs around in a near panic. Not willing to give up, he tries to fight his way inside but he keeps getting pushed back, farther and farther. Momentarily paralyzed by the hopelessness of the situation, a bleary eyed Damon just watches as the fire consumes more and more of the building. And then as if by some miracle, despite the roar of the flames, he hears his name. Not sure it it's real or if he's imagining it, he looks around. Not seeing anyone that even resembles her, he feels tears begin to fill his eyes. About to surrender to his despair, something whether it's an angel or God himself urges him to look up. And when he does, his heart starts thrumming so chaotically against his ribs that it nearly knocks the wind out of him. Using her hands, she's frantically pounding against the paned glass window as tongues of flame move perilously closer to her. The look of stark, unbridled terror that's visible in her eyes is something akin to a nightmare.

Without even taking a moment to think about the hell and almost certain death that awaits him, Damon rushes into the building just barely darting out the way when a chandelier comes crashing down. Seeing the steps nearly completely engulfed in fire, he knows that he has no choice, he has to try to reach her. Covering his mouth, he runs up them, nearly falling more than once when the wood gives way under his feet. Finally reaching the top floor, fear ignites anew when he sees the way the floor is literally moving in waves. Fearing it'll collapse, he pushes himself forward. He runs into the great room but all he sees is people panicking as they try to get out through the back entrance. His lungs hurt from having to breathe in the thick, black acrid smelling smoke. With flames licking ever closer, he feels a renewed burst of adrenaline. Finding a couple huddled in a corner, he pulls them to their feet and points towards the stairs. Although the smoke makes it hard to see, he knows that it's the direction he came from.

Starting to feel frantic because he can't find her, he dashes into the great room again to see if he can see her or him even. Not willing to surrender, he runs out and again as if he has an angel on his side, he hears her screams alerting him to her location. The doorknob is nearly glowing red making it impossible for him to turn it. Stepping back as far as he can, he rams it with as much force as he can summon. Breathing a sigh of relief when the door gives, he bursts into the room and runs over to her. Pulling, her into his arms, he holds her for just a moment knowing he may never have the chance again. Although he never wants to let her go, he forces himself to, knowing that if he doesn't, they'll both surely die. Dragging her away from the window, he looks for something, anything to break the glass. Having no other choice, he closes his eyes and runs, ramming it with his shoulder. Thankfully the glass breaks but he feels each sliver and shard as it pushes painfully into his skin.

"Damon?" Elena cries, too panicked to even think straight. He takes her around the waist and helps her through the window. Standing on the ledge, Damon takes her hand and gives her a nod. Just as they ready their jump, the building collapses, sending them plummeting to the ground below just as the structure crashes down on top of them.

This story has Damon and Elena living in Chicago at the time of the great fire. Legend has it that it was started by Mrs. O'Leary's cow. Some of the sights Damon is describing are taken from the first hand account of Horace White.

Huge thanks to Eva for love and encouragement and her sage mind.

Chapter title: 'The Night Chicago Died' by Paper Lace

ICEM and TTFAF are still in progress.

Please remember to review. I can't wait to hear your thoughts on it.

I hope you all have a phenomenal day. Thank you all again. We'll see you next time.