"Here it is. 6921 Pennbrook Lane," Talon sighed as the three made their way up the street of a suspicious neighborhood. They stopped in front of an old, worn-out shack. Pieces of wood were nailed perpendicularly in place where the windows had been torn out. Fragments of plastic billowed wildly from the corners of the old wooden door, giving it a ghostly feel. Syrina felt her stomach muscles clench as she stared at the demolished building.
"This place gives me the creeps." Aralt cringed as he pushed open the piece of wood that stood as a makeshift door. He half expected the room to be empty, but instead found that it had been heavily decorated. Ornate, porcelain pieces were packed tightly amongst each other in the cramped room. Clouds of dust and cobweb lay in heavy heaps around the place. Syrina clung tightly to the back of Talon's coat as they cautiously made their way through the room.
They took small steps through the house before making a sharp turn at the end of the hall. Syrina and Talon trailed a few feet behind Aralt. After a few minutes of incessant clambering and ruckus, Talon heard a shrill shriek coming from the next room.
"Aralt! Are you all right?" Talon shoved his way through the door. He found Aralt standing in the middle of the room, prancing about. Talon laughed at the sight of the golden-haired boy jumping around in frantic fits.
"Die, bitch!" He cursed as he mercilessly stomped in place. Syrina skittered into the room then and stared at the dancing Aralt. She squinted closer to find little black specks near his feet. Beetles, she realized. "Annoying little demons." He kicked the air.
"Ah. No, my son." A deep voice bellowed from behind, sending tremors down Syrina's spine. "I believe the demon would be me." Syrina hesitated to turn around in fear of what she might find.
He spoke again,"Tsk tsk... Syrina dear, I thought I told you to meet me elsewhere. What a stubborn little slut."
Beaumont's words pulled at her, but she fought to ignore them. He was a demon, she insisted. A blasphemous creature of Hell. She halfway turned to face the devil thing looming behind her. She could feel his hot breath poisoning the back of her neck.
She imagined Beaumont in her head countless times. She pictured an elderly man with a graying beard and devil-red skin. The man standing before her now didn't fit her mental description at all. This man looked rather beautiful and harmless. He had pale skin, much like Syrina's. She thought he looked completely mundane aside from his piercing gold eyes that shone with an unnatural glow. Brown hair sat in an unruly nest atop his head, with a matching shadow forming around his chin and above his mouth. She stood gaping at the beautiful nightmare in front of her.
He smiled then, showing an array of perfectly aligned teeth. Those too, looked human. "I know what you're thinking, Little Syrina," he said in a strained whisper. "I'm too much of a beautiful man to be a wretched demon, correct?" He waltzed slowly to her and peered into her eyes. She felt blinded by the intense glowing of his pupils.
She glanced quickly at Aralt and Talon who had both gone white in color. They were staring at Beaumont in utter astonishment. Talon stood motionless in his place while Aralt was a grim statue of hatred.
"Well, my pet," Beaumont sighed. "Beauty is...deceiving." He then whisked his forefinger along the side of her face, making her very uncomfortable. He was breathing down her neck now, deeply inhaling her scent. "Siren..." He murmured before taking another deep breath. She stood painfully still as Beaumont's nails dug into the back of her neck.
Syrina could feel the tip of his nose grazing the skin below her jaw. He continued to trail his way down before stopping at her clavicle. The demon's head shot up abruptly as he staggered away from her. He looked as if someone had shot him.
