A brunette man stands alone, a yellow folder gripped in his hands as he takes a few steps through a room of unnatural whiteness, a portal made of two shades of swirling blue lights faded behind him. 'Welcome home.' He thought.
"Maybe if I'm lucky I can loot something before I go to." The man says, ripping the folder open, pulling out a set of papers. Scanning the pages with his one good eye, adjusting the eye patch over his right eye for comfort. "Kyoto huh?"
'Six years ago there was an incident in the Kyoto region of Japan. A book used for demonic worship called 'The Dark Grimoire' was discovered to have been stolen, the perpetrator was never found. Such a book was told to have the ability to summon a demon to shadow the caster or casters.' The text was then cut off with a set of pictures, one being of a black, leather bound book with a silver pentagram embroidered into it: 'The Dark Grimoire.' The other being of a young brunette girl with dark blue eyes, two red hair clips parting her short hair to the side labelled: 'Sakuri Kunikai. Age:14*'
'*The picture of the young girl was taken prior to the incident. Around that same time the disappearance of the Kunikai household occurred, resulting in the three residents to inexplicably disappear as well as the charred remains of multiple bystanders to be found in the nearby park. All that remained was a smoldering crater where the household once stood and still is considered a hot spot for demon activity.' Images of a large smoldering crater were taken from multiple angles, the heat radiating being visible to the cameras, as well as the three blackened remains of what seemed to be female victims, a small insert under the images labels them as around Sakuri's age at the time.' The man looked away from the images with disgust and anger, but this particular case had his eye for sometime now and he was going to get to the bottom of it. 'The Dark Grimoire' being missing for six years should've sent alarm bells to the institutes that reside overseas; yet a broken, under equipped hunter is the only one foolish enough to reopen this cold case.
"Normally this just sounds like some story made up to scare the locals from diving into occult research. Not that I blame them. This level of Fiendish magic is almost incomprehensible to the average person," The man spoke, looking around the blinding, empty, white space. "Appear!"
With a single shout the illusion faded to reveal the ruins of the old decrepit jail turned headquarters within the pocket dimension. The once clean halls were now gray from age and still stained with the dried blood of those who died defending it. A defeat so heavy it left this place barren until now since all that was left was him and...
"I figured you were still alive! Come here to scrap some gear and disappear?" I told you to tell me when you planned to return back here!" A male's voice shouted angrily from down the hall.
Following the voice the man saw the state of the other rooms within. The first door to his left revealed the old medical ward: old, brown, crusty rags littered the floor. Rags often used to clean the wounds of himself and his friends; mostly him as he wanted to 'heal like a human.' The many shelves and cabinets had been raided for any and all useful supplies once they were choked out from their supplies line. Only hope he had was the gear he stashed away in case such a situation occurred.
Moving further down the hall there was a second door on the left leading where he first arrived. At first it was an old jail cell, but with some changes it became the study for the Seer that used to reside with them. 'Forgive me Amber.' He thought as he took a detour inside, noting an old mahogany and red velvet upholstered chair surrounded by many bookshelves filled with spellbooks and the occasional scroll. Memories of practicing magic were just that now: memories. He scowled at the many texts before him, crossing his arms. 'Never again.'
Shaking his head he left the room and walked across the hall to the open doorway revealing the back of another brunette man wearing what seemed to be a rather thick brown long coat, coats that were designed solely to withstand the claws of the average demon but nothing more. "Honestly I wouldn't be surprised if you ended up dead like the rest." He said solemnly as he entered the old war room: monitors that were cracked, shattered, or otherwise unusable now littering the desks across the wall or laid upon the ground.
YOU ARE READING
Demonophobia
Horor'Six years ago there was an incident in the Kyoto region of Japan. A book used for demonic worship called 'The Dark Grimoire' was discovered to have been stolen, but the perpetrator was never found. Such a book was told to have the ability to summon...
