Hat-tori
Supernova
- Joined
- Jan 9, 2009
Darkness.
The demon slumbered. It stared at nothing, felt nothing. To the demon, no time and an eternity had passed. It hung between worlds, trapped between. Without time, without measure of it, there was nothing. So he waited. Silas, he of Mind and Dreams, watched and waited. And waited. It was a very long wait.
James Sunderland had always been a black sheep in the family, even if his novels made him very rich, he secluded himself. His famousness earned him no extra love from the family, and in fact, it had only drawn unwanted attention to them and his rather unloved hobby of the occult. So it came as some suprise that when he died in a car accident he had left it all to a young girl he had never met in truth, though he had sent her holiday and birthday gifts. Often extravagant ones, as well, though they were rarely very personal. A pretty statuette, a soft music box... Things like that.
And that little girl was of college age, so inheriting the huge funds and the massive manor had made things... interesting for her. The place was dusty, but it had been emptied somewhat, the furniture moved to storage until she decided what to put back. Though the attic lay untouched. Therein sat a strange, large tome, which seemed to draw her in... As if asking to be opened.
The demon slumbered. It stared at nothing, felt nothing. To the demon, no time and an eternity had passed. It hung between worlds, trapped between. Without time, without measure of it, there was nothing. So he waited. Silas, he of Mind and Dreams, watched and waited. And waited. It was a very long wait.
James Sunderland had always been a black sheep in the family, even if his novels made him very rich, he secluded himself. His famousness earned him no extra love from the family, and in fact, it had only drawn unwanted attention to them and his rather unloved hobby of the occult. So it came as some suprise that when he died in a car accident he had left it all to a young girl he had never met in truth, though he had sent her holiday and birthday gifts. Often extravagant ones, as well, though they were rarely very personal. A pretty statuette, a soft music box... Things like that.
And that little girl was of college age, so inheriting the huge funds and the massive manor had made things... interesting for her. The place was dusty, but it had been emptied somewhat, the furniture moved to storage until she decided what to put back. Though the attic lay untouched. Therein sat a strange, large tome, which seemed to draw her in... As if asking to be opened.