NIGHT 59: M21-M30 HALLWAY
Emergency. Emergency. Initiate CODE RED. Initiate CODE RED.
The blaring alarm had Daemon jolting to his feet, journal dropped forgotten to the bed and staff grabbed instinctively from beside him as wide golden eyes darted around the darkened room, braced for an attack. It hit him a moment later, a wave of something, so malevolent that for a moment he stumbled, going to his knees. It stole his breath and for a moment, his senses spun as he knelt there, disoriented.
That’s when he felt it, a subtle enticing pulse that felt as natural to him as his own heartbeat. He didn’t believe it at first, several seconds ticking past as he knelt there, frozen with shock. And then he tried calling in his Jewels, afraid to hope that what he was feeling was real and not some twisted illusion.
But no, the deep Red ring that appeared on his right hand was real, glinting faintly at him with an inner glow all its own. And there was a weight about his neck, one he recognized even before he lifted a shaking hand to find the pendant dangling there, with the familiar mounted Black Jewel at its center.
He stared at it for another long heartbeat, afraid to breathe, afraid to move, afraid this was some taunting dream he’d wake up from at any second, but that seductive whisper of his power, the depth of the abyss, it pulled at him like a siren’s call. He dove deep, descending through the lighter webs in a controlled dive, moving faster and faster the darker he went. When he reached the Black layer of his inner web, he threw his head back and unleashed a victorious cry, unable to help himself.
His Jewels were back. His powers. Everything.
He was going to wash this place red with blood before dawn.
An instant later, the room filled with an icy chill so cold and so sudden that the bed beside him cracked with the force of it. His smile was sharp and feral, eyes gone vicious as he prowled towards the door with all the deadly grace of a predator ready to hunt. He started donning shields as he went, just in case, taking no chances, not now. A Black shield snapped into place, coating him like a second skin. Another layered on top of that. He reserved the reservoir of his Birthright Red for anything else he might need as backup before donning a sight shield, making him invisible as he glided out into the darkened Institute.
The Sadist had come out to play.
[Going to here.]
The blaring alarm had Daemon jolting to his feet, journal dropped forgotten to the bed and staff grabbed instinctively from beside him as wide golden eyes darted around the darkened room, braced for an attack. It hit him a moment later, a wave of something, so malevolent that for a moment he stumbled, going to his knees. It stole his breath and for a moment, his senses spun as he knelt there, disoriented.
That’s when he felt it, a subtle enticing pulse that felt as natural to him as his own heartbeat. He didn’t believe it at first, several seconds ticking past as he knelt there, frozen with shock. And then he tried calling in his Jewels, afraid to hope that what he was feeling was real and not some twisted illusion.
But no, the deep Red ring that appeared on his right hand was real, glinting faintly at him with an inner glow all its own. And there was a weight about his neck, one he recognized even before he lifted a shaking hand to find the pendant dangling there, with the familiar mounted Black Jewel at its center.
He stared at it for another long heartbeat, afraid to breathe, afraid to move, afraid this was some taunting dream he’d wake up from at any second, but that seductive whisper of his power, the depth of the abyss, it pulled at him like a siren’s call. He dove deep, descending through the lighter webs in a controlled dive, moving faster and faster the darker he went. When he reached the Black layer of his inner web, he threw his head back and unleashed a victorious cry, unable to help himself.
His Jewels were back. His powers. Everything.
He was going to wash this place red with blood before dawn.
An instant later, the room filled with an icy chill so cold and so sudden that the bed beside him cracked with the force of it. His smile was sharp and feral, eyes gone vicious as he prowled towards the door with all the deadly grace of a predator ready to hunt. He started donning shields as he went, just in case, taking no chances, not now. A Black shield snapped into place, coating him like a second skin. Another layered on top of that. He reserved the reservoir of his Birthright Red for anything else he might need as backup before donning a sight shield, making him invisible as he glided out into the darkened Institute.
The Sadist had come out to play.
[Going to here.]