Meridian ◈ Seungjin

◈ Prologue: The Devil ◈

Content Warning: Descriptions of blood and language that can be taken as vulgar will be on and off throughout the story.

They walked along the usual patrol path.

Underneath the lampposts illuminating the dark shade of the night, chasing the shadows from their path and revealing the secrets scurrying between the metal warehouses and storage containers kept dormant at this location until they could be relocated to their proper destination. This was a pitstop, nothing more; A transitional area between mind and matter, dream and reality, especially when the shadows drew longer and played tricks on the two coworkers left to fend for themselves on the patrol route. This may have been a transitional point, a liminal space, but the cargo was still precious to the people awaiting their arrival. Any trespassers and solicitors must be promptly caught.

The younger worker nodded off, the superior of his chatting his ears off to subjects he couldn't have cared less about; Home life, his son going back on his marriage, what he ate last night, how lovely the weather was on this particular night, it all sounded the same. Words, and nothing more. The young worker considered slamming his head into a nearby container a few times, to knock himself out and get out of this tantalizingly boring job working at the port docks. At least the pay was decent. Might have not been decent enough to suffer through his supervisor venting about his personal life. Something about his son at an academy? Whatever. It doesn't matter.

A shadow in the corner of his eye moved.

The young dock worker whipped around, the faintest echo of something bumping into metal reaching his eardrums. Something struggling. A scuffling noise, a dragging of a dead weight object, they all flooded his senses. Warning alarms blared in his head. He stalked, light steps trying to mask his movements.

A hand gripped his arm.

He jerked around, a startled spike rifling through his nerves as he was met not with a darkness reminiscent of a cheap horror movie, but the cheap horror movie face of his supervisor, "Everything okay?"

"Something is in that warehouse," The younger managed to wiggle his arm free of the grip. He continued to the mentioned building, the other stalking after him without another word of protest. Or any word for that matter, as they both let the silence of the night tell them if there truly was someone inside, or if it was nothing more than a shadow. At the lack of sounds, of any hints or sign of life, the latter of such became increasingly more realistic. It was nothing more than the light, and the darkness warping around it. Occasionally, they heard a groan, or the shredding of clothes against the ground, but it proved nothing to the grand question of if something existed within.

His supervisor turned away, a lazy hand waving it off, "Probably two teens trying to get lucky. Let them be."

The worker pursed his lips.

"Let me tell you, my son-" His superior began. Upon realizing the younger wasn't following, nor listening, instead choosing to stare vacantly at the closed warehouse door, the superior questioned, "Are you coming?"

The worker shook his head. After a few more moments of hesitation, he popped his head between the slight opening of the warehouse doors, not wanting to go any farther than the protective shield the metal sheets provided for him. Vaguely in the back, he could make out two figures; One laying still on the ground, the other hunched over that laying person. The former wasn't moving. The worker narrowed his eyes, attempting to see beyond the shadows as he called, "Hello? You can't be in here, it's a private warehouse. You two need to go somewhere else."

The one on top slowly came to sit up, snapping their head violently in the workers direction. Those movements didn't belong to a human. Their eyes glowed a deep and umbral red, gaze bleeding through like the eyes of a predator.

The eyes of an animal.

Yet the worker remained unfazed. A low growl vibrated through the still air of the warehouse, those intimidating noises of deep warning mimicking a cornered animal, erupting from it's chest as that vaguely humanoid shadow watched with a wild glare. Carefully, ensuring not to break the eye contact they kept, the worker reached to his belt and unhooked his flashlight. His palm met the heavy rust iron door, beginning to nearly shove the metal out of the way to open it's mouth wider. Wider, and wider, until it reflected the aggressive hisses of that unknown animal waiting for his wrong move. The bellowing grew louder.

He stepped forward into the dark of the warehouse. The shadow sprinted for the back exit. With a squelch, the sole of the workers shoe met a strange substance coating the cement ground. The worker flipped his flashlight on and pointed it at his own feet.

"Sir!" The worker stumbled back, out of the darkness of the warehouse and collided full force into his superior as his footing came out from under him. A crimson flux coated the underside patterns of the worker's shoe. It driped, running, collecting in the puddle of it he managed to slip on. Slip into. That liquid soaked his hands.

His flashlight clattered to the floor.

"It's blood!"

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