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PART ONE: Dissonant Hearts (Degusaurusrex x AndrewS)
Cresthaven was a city built on the integration of stolen magic. It was a place that should have been brimming with hope, but, instead, the shining beacon that could have been had become a never was, soiled with fear and distrust. At least, that's what they told me when I got here.
They said that it was going to take more than a few years of peace to repair the damage, though humans and Dissonants alike, a strange name given here to supernatural beings like vampires and whatnot, seemed to be trying well enough. I much prefer demihuman, but maybe I'm just used to that. They were doing their best, at least, as much as they could, considering everything that had happened. Fear worked both ways in the country that the DSTF had ruled, making it difficult for humans to trust potential monsters, and for those monsters to trust the very ones who had hunted and oppressed them.
Step one was stabilization.
Cresthaven was but one part of a much larger picture. Segregated by Maximilian and the DSTF, the country of Astoria had cut itself off from the broader world, both in terms of export and import. News rarely came in from outside, nor did it travel in reverse. As far as I was concerned, Astoria may as well have been on a whole different planet entirely. Where other countries had their own ways of handling the growing discomfort between their people and the supernatural beings that the world had become aware of, few had the same challenges as Astoria had. The mages and the demons, volatile forces of destruction and war, left a bloodstained history long before the usurper demon Malakai had found his host, and it was through their seizure and manipulation of magic that Cresthaven advanced so much faster than the rest. It also made it easier to disconnect them. Few on the outside knew the real truth of what was happening within Astoria's borders until the facade had cracked. No DSTF meant no government. It was only inevitable that somebody came to claim what no longer had protection, especially a place still so ripe with arcane potential and advanced technology.
It was a gold mine waiting to be tapped, and it was a gold mine without it's guard.
Within a few weeks, talks had already begun. At least three different outside countries had shown a desire to capitalize on the void left behind, us included, but they soon realized that it would be in the best interest of peace if they worked together. In a surprising display of unity, they formed a council to help oversee Astoria. Perhaps it was an olive branch, extended to those in need, or maybe, a larger plot with a longer term goal, but the combined resources of the outside powers did much to bring things back into line. They worked with the council that had been sat up in the capital city, but also, they reached to the smaller communities as well, offering a warmer, much kinder helping hand than their predecessors before them. Eventually, a leader will be elected, and things would go on as normal, but who was really in control of it all?
The "United Council", apparently. Our UNC.
If step one was stabilization, step two would need to be re-education.
The integration of supernatural life into the curriculum at colleges and schools had been one of the first, major sweeping changes made. This would be offered in three different varieties, with classes aimed towards humans, Dissonants, and experimental mixed classrooms as they continued to blur the line between what it meant to be a citizen of Astoria. Knowledge would bring safety, and understanding, tearing away as many of the stereotypes and fears that came with the idea of coexisting with a different form of being. Equality for all. That's what the UNC called it, at least, but the jury is still out on that.
And as for me?
I'm learning as I go. As an outsider, I know only what I've been taught and told. I keep to myself, people bother me. I'm only here because dad forced me to be. It's difficult, you know, being the son of a politician, and a powerful one at that. I'm glad you were able to get away from all of it. If father had his way, he'd be the first king, or president, or whatever they want to call the leader of this place in the future. I guess that would make me pretty important too. Meetings, ceremonies, social gatherings...I'd rather stick my head in a blender.
As the people of Astoria adjust to this wider world, they will realize, eventually, that things are much better in your own little bubble. The sad truth is that they weren't given a choice, but nobody wants to talk about that. From one dictator to the next, being told how to live and who to live it with. When history repeats, I will, unfortunately, be stuck in the middle of it. I'm not looking forward to that.
But, today marks the two year anniversary of the battle that nearly destroyed the city, and they're making a really big deal about it. Supposedly, one of the people involved in that has been speaking at the new university and they're holding a big event there this afternoon. It's that blonde, witchy-type girl. Amanda? Amalie? Something like that. Every time I've ever seen her, she just looks impossibly sad. I guess being a 'hero' isn't all that it's cracked up to be. I'm being forced to go, but at least I'll get to check out the museum afterwards. Lyra said she'd take me, and you know how she gets when she sets her mind to something.
Highly guarded, full of powerful, magical objects. A time capsule into the history, both mage and demonic, of what came before us in an entirely different culture. Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll even get to see that special sword they say is being kept there. At least that would make it worth it.
Supposedly, it used to house a demon inside of the blade. There's still a lot we don't know about them, we didn't have them where I came from, just the usual demihumans. I imagine they're very terrifying, but there's been hardly any sightings of them over the last two years. Maybe they up and left, I wouldn't blame them. Doesn't seem like humans OR demihumans like them all that much, and I'd assume the feeling is mutual.
I hope when you hear this, you'll be all caught up on what has happened since you've been gone. Maybe I'll make more of these. Our own, personal little diary. I wish I'd started sooner.
Anyways, I love you, Mom...and I miss you, so much.
Bye for now.
With a click, a retro style camcorder's side door popped open, revealing the tape inside. Careful fingers removed it from the antique device, storing it safely on a shelf above a messy desk in the corner of a plain, uninspired bedroom. Just one, for now, but room for plenty more.
Placing the camcorder down beside a weathered picture frame, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and tightened the strap. His driver would be here soon, and his father would be angry if he was late for the festivities. With a heavy sigh, he took a longing look at the photo inside; a family portrait of four, two adults and two children, equally divided between male and female. The edges of the photo were frayed and torn, it had clearly seen better days, but it was an original and not a copy or reprint. He never cared much for the new, magic-laced cameras. It was dated eight years prior, six before he moved, but the heartache it brought seemed to linger even longer.
He just wanted her to have something to come back to. Something tangible and real. A way to know that he never forgot, not once. Family was family, after all, together or not. Whether that separation was caused by sea, or tragedy, you never really forget the people you love. They're carried with you, like a bow on a gravestone, or a feather from a fallen friend.
Distant, but still there.
Yeah. Still there.
"I can't believe she wasn't there."
A soft voice whined at the realization that Adelaide Lancaster had cancelled on her appearance at the university. "And her replacement didn't even want to be here!" Expressing a sigh, the brunette girl's eyes, which had been directed downward, lifted back up to face her companions. "...I thought I'd finally get a chance to meet her..." Lyra huffed beneath her breath, arms crossed at her chest.
"Me too." Came another voice, the third of a group that included Lyra and her younger brother. "She's mega hot...in like a sad, emo chick kind of way."
"Gross. You're such a guy, Ryan." Lyra chastised, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull. "She's a hero, that's what she is. Do you have any idea how fucked we all could have been if she wasn't around? Back me up, Noah."
Noah shrugged his shoulders, nonchalantly, expressing straight forward disinterest in the conversation he was hearing. "Sure, whatever."
"It's weird for someone from the outside to be hero worshipping her, you know." Ryan shot back, snidely. "What would your daddy think?"
"Our daddy would be happy to know that I'm invested in this country's history. You know, the country he's trying to save. Your country."
The bickering continued as background noise as Noah peered forwards, past them both, towards a door lined with a pair of long, red dividers. They formed a barricade across the entrance, preventing anybody from getting inside while under the watchful eye of the few attendants stationed around the lobby, shepherding visitors towards the exits.
"...and she also rescued hundreds of people. How many people have you saved, dumbass?"
The argument droned on, but Noah was far more interested in the showroom that was supposed to be available for attendees of the university's conference. Some big exhibition of special, magical objects, meant to help inform the public as the UNC attempted to expediate the healing process of demihumans and normal humans alike. After Adelaide had cancelled, it seemed like the entire thing was a no-go. Maybe it was deemed a risk, like they thought the big, legendary Lancaster would deter people away from trying anything.
And it was the only reason that Noah even wanted to be here, besides the fact that their father expected him. The father who didn't even show up himself, of course. He never did.
"Whatever." Ryan, clearly annoyed with Lyra's enthusiastic banter, searched for a reason to excuse himself. "See you tomorrow, weirdo."
"Asshole." She mumbled, beneath her breath, as he walked off. With him out of the picture, her focus fell back to her brother. She grabbed at his arm, catching his attention. "Are you okay? You seem mad."
"I'm great." Noah responded, tugging his limb free. "Wonderful, actually. Never been better."
Her eyes rolled as he, like always, withdrew from any kind of intimacy between the pair. "If you say so. I'm heading back home. You coming?"
"Nah. I'm going to stay for a bit, do some studying."
"Now I know something is wrong. You haven't studied a day in your life."
"And still managed a higher G.P.A."
"Rude." Lyra groaned, though, mostly she was just happy that Noah was still talking to her, and showing anything more than his usual disinterest. She was worried about him, he seemed to be more detached every time she saw him. "Promise me you'll get home before it's dark? And that you'll actually eat dinner tonight?" When he didn't reply right away, she furled her brow, knitting it together in frustration. "Noah..."
"I'll eat. And I'll be safe. I'm fine, Ly, I promise."
She knew when not to push his buttons, so she took him at his word, even if part of her heart believed otherwise. She gave him a quick, one-sided hug, then disappeared behind him, assimilating into the rest of the people leaving the conference hall.
It took about an hour for everything to settle down. There were some other celebrations and memorials planned for the evening, including a firework show to coincide to with Cresthaven's New Year's Eve festivities, so the entire university had already drained itself of anybody and everybody save for one. Noah waited in one of the student lounges, biding his time. He had to see what was inside. It was like a weird feeling in his chest that stopped him from leaving. An aching, and a pull, yearning him towards something inside of the showroom. With his curiosity piqued, he laid low until he was sure everybody had left, then tucked himself under the divider and into the show room.
It looked like the start of a museum exhibition. He counted at least a dozen glass containers adorning pedestals, each locked and containing an object inside. Plaques rested below them, engraved with the name of the contained item, as well as some notes about what it could do. The glass itself appeared to be etched with some sort of markings, he presumed it had something to do with seals to contain whatever magic the items might have had, but what laid out before him was like a buffet of objects humans would have never had the chance to see just two years prior. Noah made sure to keep the lights down, just in case he missed somebody, and began to look around.
He sifted past the first couple of displays, trying to find what had drawn his attention. He stopped, however, when he found a horizontal display piece that contained what appeared to be a sword. He had heard the rumors, and it was one of the things he had wanted to see. The fabled Reaper's sword, the one he had used to slay human and demon alike...which wasn't what he was seeing. This was different, and not at all what he was looking for. It didn't seem like something a demon would use; it looked like somebody put a dagger through a vice grip and stretched it out. It was too small, it's blade lacking the supposed purple shine of the Reaper's weapon. It had nothing special about it, save for a blood-red stain that could have very well been paint on the blade for all he knew. It didn't feel magical, at all, and it was the only plaque that lacked any proper detail on what it was aside from a name; Redbrand.
Noah looked over his shoulder, feeling that tug in his chest again. It was pulling him away from the dagger and towards a different case, further back. He walked, slowly, following that intuition. This was definitely it.
While other displays showed weapons, and objects that at least looked magical in nature, this one held nothing but what seemed to be a pocket watch. It's bronze body seemed to be scratched, and it's cover was closed, making it hard for Noah to even tell it was a pocket watch to begin with. It's chain was wrapped around it, like a spiral blanket, and the thrum he felt was certainly coming from it's direction. It syncopated evenly, like a heart beat, or a clock.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
It's thrall thickened, and Noah felt his hand raising. He couldn't tell if it was by his own design, or willed by another. His fingers caressed the glass, searching for some sort of way to separate it. He had been so careful before, but now, it was like he didn't even care if he sat off an alarm or got caught. He prodded at a latch near the back of the case as the beat got louder and more intense, pounding as if his head was about to burst. Sound blurred into white noise, pierced only by a foreign voice calling out to him in a cadence that was not at all human.
"Hands off. That doesn't belong to you, human."
Golden eyes broke the darkness, belonging to a shadowed figure that had joined him in the showroom. He hadn't heard anybody come in, distracted by the weird hyper fixation that the pocket watch had caused him. Even now, as he looked upon this figure with dread, his heart beat raced yet seemed to try and match the call of the peculiar device. The being stepped forward, revealing what Noah had speculated but didn't want to be true; it was a demon, horns and all.
"S-sure." He stammered, attempting to back away. "A-all yours. Go ahead."
The demon strode towards him at a speed that Noah could barely process and understand, standing between him and the case in record time. "What did you do to it?"
"I didn't do anything..."
"Why can't I hear it anymore? What did you do?"
Noah began to raise his hand, taking a couple of steps backwards. "I-I didn't touch it. I swear. I don't even know what it is!" He could still feel it's beat, but he wasn't stupid enough to say that out loud.
The demon's head snapped back towards Noah, snarling, causing him to back up further, defensively, until he stumbled and bumped against a different container. The air thickened as the being leaned forward, his fingers curling into a fist which, though concealed partially by the darkness of the room, boasted several, razor sharp claws that it seemed willing to use without concern to get what it wanted.
"Put it back." The demon pause suddenly, his head twitching unnaturally before continuing to speak, uttering a threat that echoed back at Noah from all direction.
"Put it back, or I'll rip out your fucking throat."
Cresthaven was a city built on the integration of stolen magic. It was a place that should have been brimming with hope, but, instead, the shining beacon that could have been had become a never was, soiled with fear and distrust. At least, that's what they told me when I got here.
They said that it was going to take more than a few years of peace to repair the damage, though humans and Dissonants alike, a strange name given here to supernatural beings like vampires and whatnot, seemed to be trying well enough. I much prefer demihuman, but maybe I'm just used to that. They were doing their best, at least, as much as they could, considering everything that had happened. Fear worked both ways in the country that the DSTF had ruled, making it difficult for humans to trust potential monsters, and for those monsters to trust the very ones who had hunted and oppressed them.
Step one was stabilization.
Cresthaven was but one part of a much larger picture. Segregated by Maximilian and the DSTF, the country of Astoria had cut itself off from the broader world, both in terms of export and import. News rarely came in from outside, nor did it travel in reverse. As far as I was concerned, Astoria may as well have been on a whole different planet entirely. Where other countries had their own ways of handling the growing discomfort between their people and the supernatural beings that the world had become aware of, few had the same challenges as Astoria had. The mages and the demons, volatile forces of destruction and war, left a bloodstained history long before the usurper demon Malakai had found his host, and it was through their seizure and manipulation of magic that Cresthaven advanced so much faster than the rest. It also made it easier to disconnect them. Few on the outside knew the real truth of what was happening within Astoria's borders until the facade had cracked. No DSTF meant no government. It was only inevitable that somebody came to claim what no longer had protection, especially a place still so ripe with arcane potential and advanced technology.
It was a gold mine waiting to be tapped, and it was a gold mine without it's guard.
Within a few weeks, talks had already begun. At least three different outside countries had shown a desire to capitalize on the void left behind, us included, but they soon realized that it would be in the best interest of peace if they worked together. In a surprising display of unity, they formed a council to help oversee Astoria. Perhaps it was an olive branch, extended to those in need, or maybe, a larger plot with a longer term goal, but the combined resources of the outside powers did much to bring things back into line. They worked with the council that had been sat up in the capital city, but also, they reached to the smaller communities as well, offering a warmer, much kinder helping hand than their predecessors before them. Eventually, a leader will be elected, and things would go on as normal, but who was really in control of it all?
The "United Council", apparently. Our UNC.
If step one was stabilization, step two would need to be re-education.
The integration of supernatural life into the curriculum at colleges and schools had been one of the first, major sweeping changes made. This would be offered in three different varieties, with classes aimed towards humans, Dissonants, and experimental mixed classrooms as they continued to blur the line between what it meant to be a citizen of Astoria. Knowledge would bring safety, and understanding, tearing away as many of the stereotypes and fears that came with the idea of coexisting with a different form of being. Equality for all. That's what the UNC called it, at least, but the jury is still out on that.
And as for me?
I'm learning as I go. As an outsider, I know only what I've been taught and told. I keep to myself, people bother me. I'm only here because dad forced me to be. It's difficult, you know, being the son of a politician, and a powerful one at that. I'm glad you were able to get away from all of it. If father had his way, he'd be the first king, or president, or whatever they want to call the leader of this place in the future. I guess that would make me pretty important too. Meetings, ceremonies, social gatherings...I'd rather stick my head in a blender.
As the people of Astoria adjust to this wider world, they will realize, eventually, that things are much better in your own little bubble. The sad truth is that they weren't given a choice, but nobody wants to talk about that. From one dictator to the next, being told how to live and who to live it with. When history repeats, I will, unfortunately, be stuck in the middle of it. I'm not looking forward to that.
But, today marks the two year anniversary of the battle that nearly destroyed the city, and they're making a really big deal about it. Supposedly, one of the people involved in that has been speaking at the new university and they're holding a big event there this afternoon. It's that blonde, witchy-type girl. Amanda? Amalie? Something like that. Every time I've ever seen her, she just looks impossibly sad. I guess being a 'hero' isn't all that it's cracked up to be. I'm being forced to go, but at least I'll get to check out the museum afterwards. Lyra said she'd take me, and you know how she gets when she sets her mind to something.
Highly guarded, full of powerful, magical objects. A time capsule into the history, both mage and demonic, of what came before us in an entirely different culture. Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll even get to see that special sword they say is being kept there. At least that would make it worth it.
Supposedly, it used to house a demon inside of the blade. There's still a lot we don't know about them, we didn't have them where I came from, just the usual demihumans. I imagine they're very terrifying, but there's been hardly any sightings of them over the last two years. Maybe they up and left, I wouldn't blame them. Doesn't seem like humans OR demihumans like them all that much, and I'd assume the feeling is mutual.
I hope when you hear this, you'll be all caught up on what has happened since you've been gone. Maybe I'll make more of these. Our own, personal little diary. I wish I'd started sooner.
Anyways, I love you, Mom...and I miss you, so much.
Bye for now.
With a click, a retro style camcorder's side door popped open, revealing the tape inside. Careful fingers removed it from the antique device, storing it safely on a shelf above a messy desk in the corner of a plain, uninspired bedroom. Just one, for now, but room for plenty more.
Placing the camcorder down beside a weathered picture frame, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and tightened the strap. His driver would be here soon, and his father would be angry if he was late for the festivities. With a heavy sigh, he took a longing look at the photo inside; a family portrait of four, two adults and two children, equally divided between male and female. The edges of the photo were frayed and torn, it had clearly seen better days, but it was an original and not a copy or reprint. He never cared much for the new, magic-laced cameras. It was dated eight years prior, six before he moved, but the heartache it brought seemed to linger even longer.
He just wanted her to have something to come back to. Something tangible and real. A way to know that he never forgot, not once. Family was family, after all, together or not. Whether that separation was caused by sea, or tragedy, you never really forget the people you love. They're carried with you, like a bow on a gravestone, or a feather from a fallen friend.
Distant, but still there.
Yeah. Still there.
"I can't believe she wasn't there."
A soft voice whined at the realization that Adelaide Lancaster had cancelled on her appearance at the university. "And her replacement didn't even want to be here!" Expressing a sigh, the brunette girl's eyes, which had been directed downward, lifted back up to face her companions. "...I thought I'd finally get a chance to meet her..." Lyra huffed beneath her breath, arms crossed at her chest.
"Me too." Came another voice, the third of a group that included Lyra and her younger brother. "She's mega hot...in like a sad, emo chick kind of way."
"Gross. You're such a guy, Ryan." Lyra chastised, her eyes rolling to the back of her skull. "She's a hero, that's what she is. Do you have any idea how fucked we all could have been if she wasn't around? Back me up, Noah."
Noah shrugged his shoulders, nonchalantly, expressing straight forward disinterest in the conversation he was hearing. "Sure, whatever."
"It's weird for someone from the outside to be hero worshipping her, you know." Ryan shot back, snidely. "What would your daddy think?"
"Our daddy would be happy to know that I'm invested in this country's history. You know, the country he's trying to save. Your country."
The bickering continued as background noise as Noah peered forwards, past them both, towards a door lined with a pair of long, red dividers. They formed a barricade across the entrance, preventing anybody from getting inside while under the watchful eye of the few attendants stationed around the lobby, shepherding visitors towards the exits.
"...and she also rescued hundreds of people. How many people have you saved, dumbass?"
The argument droned on, but Noah was far more interested in the showroom that was supposed to be available for attendees of the university's conference. Some big exhibition of special, magical objects, meant to help inform the public as the UNC attempted to expediate the healing process of demihumans and normal humans alike. After Adelaide had cancelled, it seemed like the entire thing was a no-go. Maybe it was deemed a risk, like they thought the big, legendary Lancaster would deter people away from trying anything.
And it was the only reason that Noah even wanted to be here, besides the fact that their father expected him. The father who didn't even show up himself, of course. He never did.
"Whatever." Ryan, clearly annoyed with Lyra's enthusiastic banter, searched for a reason to excuse himself. "See you tomorrow, weirdo."
"Asshole." She mumbled, beneath her breath, as he walked off. With him out of the picture, her focus fell back to her brother. She grabbed at his arm, catching his attention. "Are you okay? You seem mad."
"I'm great." Noah responded, tugging his limb free. "Wonderful, actually. Never been better."
Her eyes rolled as he, like always, withdrew from any kind of intimacy between the pair. "If you say so. I'm heading back home. You coming?"
"Nah. I'm going to stay for a bit, do some studying."
"Now I know something is wrong. You haven't studied a day in your life."
"And still managed a higher G.P.A."
"Rude." Lyra groaned, though, mostly she was just happy that Noah was still talking to her, and showing anything more than his usual disinterest. She was worried about him, he seemed to be more detached every time she saw him. "Promise me you'll get home before it's dark? And that you'll actually eat dinner tonight?" When he didn't reply right away, she furled her brow, knitting it together in frustration. "Noah..."
"I'll eat. And I'll be safe. I'm fine, Ly, I promise."
She knew when not to push his buttons, so she took him at his word, even if part of her heart believed otherwise. She gave him a quick, one-sided hug, then disappeared behind him, assimilating into the rest of the people leaving the conference hall.
It took about an hour for everything to settle down. There were some other celebrations and memorials planned for the evening, including a firework show to coincide to with Cresthaven's New Year's Eve festivities, so the entire university had already drained itself of anybody and everybody save for one. Noah waited in one of the student lounges, biding his time. He had to see what was inside. It was like a weird feeling in his chest that stopped him from leaving. An aching, and a pull, yearning him towards something inside of the showroom. With his curiosity piqued, he laid low until he was sure everybody had left, then tucked himself under the divider and into the show room.
It looked like the start of a museum exhibition. He counted at least a dozen glass containers adorning pedestals, each locked and containing an object inside. Plaques rested below them, engraved with the name of the contained item, as well as some notes about what it could do. The glass itself appeared to be etched with some sort of markings, he presumed it had something to do with seals to contain whatever magic the items might have had, but what laid out before him was like a buffet of objects humans would have never had the chance to see just two years prior. Noah made sure to keep the lights down, just in case he missed somebody, and began to look around.
He sifted past the first couple of displays, trying to find what had drawn his attention. He stopped, however, when he found a horizontal display piece that contained what appeared to be a sword. He had heard the rumors, and it was one of the things he had wanted to see. The fabled Reaper's sword, the one he had used to slay human and demon alike...which wasn't what he was seeing. This was different, and not at all what he was looking for. It didn't seem like something a demon would use; it looked like somebody put a dagger through a vice grip and stretched it out. It was too small, it's blade lacking the supposed purple shine of the Reaper's weapon. It had nothing special about it, save for a blood-red stain that could have very well been paint on the blade for all he knew. It didn't feel magical, at all, and it was the only plaque that lacked any proper detail on what it was aside from a name; Redbrand.
Noah looked over his shoulder, feeling that tug in his chest again. It was pulling him away from the dagger and towards a different case, further back. He walked, slowly, following that intuition. This was definitely it.
While other displays showed weapons, and objects that at least looked magical in nature, this one held nothing but what seemed to be a pocket watch. It's bronze body seemed to be scratched, and it's cover was closed, making it hard for Noah to even tell it was a pocket watch to begin with. It's chain was wrapped around it, like a spiral blanket, and the thrum he felt was certainly coming from it's direction. It syncopated evenly, like a heart beat, or a clock.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
It's thrall thickened, and Noah felt his hand raising. He couldn't tell if it was by his own design, or willed by another. His fingers caressed the glass, searching for some sort of way to separate it. He had been so careful before, but now, it was like he didn't even care if he sat off an alarm or got caught. He prodded at a latch near the back of the case as the beat got louder and more intense, pounding as if his head was about to burst. Sound blurred into white noise, pierced only by a foreign voice calling out to him in a cadence that was not at all human.
"Hands off. That doesn't belong to you, human."
Golden eyes broke the darkness, belonging to a shadowed figure that had joined him in the showroom. He hadn't heard anybody come in, distracted by the weird hyper fixation that the pocket watch had caused him. Even now, as he looked upon this figure with dread, his heart beat raced yet seemed to try and match the call of the peculiar device. The being stepped forward, revealing what Noah had speculated but didn't want to be true; it was a demon, horns and all.
"S-sure." He stammered, attempting to back away. "A-all yours. Go ahead."
The demon strode towards him at a speed that Noah could barely process and understand, standing between him and the case in record time. "What did you do to it?"
"I didn't do anything..."
"Why can't I hear it anymore? What did you do?"
Noah began to raise his hand, taking a couple of steps backwards. "I-I didn't touch it. I swear. I don't even know what it is!" He could still feel it's beat, but he wasn't stupid enough to say that out loud.
The demon's head snapped back towards Noah, snarling, causing him to back up further, defensively, until he stumbled and bumped against a different container. The air thickened as the being leaned forward, his fingers curling into a fist which, though concealed partially by the darkness of the room, boasted several, razor sharp claws that it seemed willing to use without concern to get what it wanted.
"Put it back." The demon pause suddenly, his head twitching unnaturally before continuing to speak, uttering a threat that echoed back at Noah from all direction.
"Put it back, or I'll rip out your fucking throat."
