The Wicked

FIVE

Brendon sat in his hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling. His hands rested on his chest and his legs were crossed at his ankles. He should have been working on the facts of the case, but something else kept filling his mind.

The whispers.

They weren't nearly as loud as at the museum, but their longing hum still bounced around Brendon's skull. It was numbing and soothing at the same time. Brendon felt his eyelids drop from full alertness to merely half.

Brendon knew he was being unprofessional by not working. He should be focusing on his break in tomorrow by examining maps of the layout and shift change times. However, instead of any of that, Brendon's eyes fully closed.

Just like that, he was falling. He cried out, but no sound left his lips. He felt air swirl around him. He felt hands graze his skin, bringing a burning pain wherever they touched.

It felt like years before he hit the ground with an echoing thud. Brendon pushed himself up on shaky arms. He couldn't process what had just happened. The silence of it all; the pain on his skin. He looked down on his arm, eyes growing wide with alarm.

Words were burned into his skin, everywhere he looked.

Sinner

Dark intentions

Let us in

Take it

Brendon's arm shook. What the fuck was going on!?

"Need some help, baby?"

Brendon looked up, catching Nicole's gaze. He felt his shaking calm as he looked at her. She extended a hand towards him, which he accepted. He was pulled to his feet and pulled close to her. One hand wrapped around his mid-frame while the other came up to rest against the size of his head.

"You need the key." She whispered to him. With her words, she traced something along his skin. Doing that made the words on Brendon's skin glow, but he was too locked in her gaze to notice. She grinned. "There are big plans for you."

Without warning, she pushed him away. He was once again sent falling through darkness. This time, cackling filled his ears as the burning hands moved to new locations of his exposed skin.

Brendon's eyes opened. His mind buzzed with the whispers and encouragement of Nicole, though he couldn't quite remember them. He pushed himself upright, feeling the growl of something within him once again. Something that didn't want to waste time with professionalism.

Brendon rose from the bed and moved in front of a mirror. In his reflection, his eyes had a slight haze to them. It was like looking at his eyes through a fogged glass. His arms, on the other hand, were clearly visible with the same burned markings from his dream. When he looked down, however, there was nothing there.

Brendon turned back to the mirror, taking in his reflection. It remained as it had been before, with only one difference.

The Devil's Key hung around Brendon's neck, resting against the middle of his chest. He could practically feel the weight of it, despite nothing being there when his hand shakily felt for it.

Take it

Brendon shut his eyes. What was going on? This wasn't professional. The key wasn't even for him. The key was for a client in exchange for cash. Why was this thing affecting him like this? It wasn't like he was new to supernatural artifacts; they were usually some of his favorite jobs. He enjoyed the superstition of his clients. It made everything a bit more fun, even if he wasn't a believer himself.