sacrilege [michael langdon x reader]

ii. serenity

The door opened with a jarring sound that seemed to rattle your bones, your very core aching, longing for whatever lay in that room, waiting, watching.

You felt as though something was tugging at the limits of your mind, like a string that was being pulled by phantom hands- soft, gentle hands that caressed the very essence of your soul with the caution and curiosity of a child.                                                                                                                      Pure, raw energy filled the room and the air- it was pulsating with it, vibrant, blissful energy that  was flooding every single one of your cells to the brink until you were buzzing, brimming with ecstasy.

The memory of a whisper echoed in your ears-  come closer, child, come to me, find me, uncover me.  The voice wasn't physical as much as it was in your head, an ethereal, preternatural sound that sounded ancient and juvenile, feminine and masculine at the same time, like two sides of the same coin.

The room was illuminated only by a few candles scattered around the few spare surfaces that hadn't been completely overtaken by a commotion of books of different sizes and thickness, all bound in the same old leather.

There was an elevation of sorts made of dark wood bearing a giant tome that looked like the centerpiece of the room-decadent gold ornaments covered the front and sides, forming an intricate design that gleamed in the mellow light; and you knew, this was what had called for you.

Though it rested steadily on its platform, the book looked as if it were pulsating in the flicker of the candles- breathing alongside you in the quietness of the room, the memory of the tune that had initially lured you here long forgotten as you crossed the space that separated you from its calm vividness. The book which lay exposed before you, beckoned, the strange voice still resonating in your ears when you reached out and all other sounds ceased- not to exist, but to matter.

You've come, Gifted One, finally.

Chills ran down your spine as your fingertips explored the warm leather, the fine bumps and valleys and the ornate adornments- before you opened the book which released a huff of stale, dusty air. The voice transformed, was joined by others, the mass of voices mingling, trying to surpass one another.

Let us guide you, let us teach you, let us serve you, Gifted One.

The noise was overwhelming, almost deafening. Your mind was racing, ecstasy clouding your thoughts- guide me, teach me, serve me.

Foreign thoughts filled your mind, an echo of things that had been but were no more.

You have to stop him, Gifted One, before he destroys all the we relish. Stop the boy and pay the debt. Stop the lost son-

Somewhere in the house a door slammed shut, the loud thud slicing through the silence like a knife, the shock sending you staggering back. Some connection had been severed, and the voices stopped, the energy draining quickly from you, leaving you gasping for air. You felt dizzy, nauseous. 

Breathing heavily, you left the room without so much as a look back.

-

"I really need some coffee if I want to get through today.", your voice was still dripping with sleepiness  when you sat down at the kitchen isle and watched Bess prepare breakfast the next day. The woman had arrived early in the morning and started working in the kitchen almost instantaneously, the loud clatter of plates and cups audible even from the isolation of your room on the first floor.