The street was empty, cold, and slick with rain.
A single Hudson Hornet drove down the road, its tires crackling against the damp blacktop and spraying mist in its wake. Its headlights pierced through the night, flitting over tightly-shut windows and cold brick apartments; despite the burning brightness of the lights, no one stirred.
The car's brakes squealed as it pulled onto the side of the road, stopping in front of one of the many tall buildings that lined the streets. They were like trees, which stretched up into the sky and loomed menacingly over anyone that passed.
The woman driving the car glanced through the window, swallowing. With a deep breath, she stepped outside, her heels clicking against the rough asphalt. Her thin, red lips quivered at the cold, and she wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she'd worn something warmer. Her red dress fluttered down her body, bright and stark against the gloomy palette of her surroundings.
She clutched her satchel to her chest, shutting the car door as she stared up at the daunting building. With a deep breath, she made her way up the stairs and opened the door. It shut behind her with a gentle click, and she stared down a long, daunting hallway.
She took a deep breath and fixed her hair, perusing the names of each door she walked past. She was looking for one specific name; one that sent chills through her blood.
Booth... Sanders... Duncan...
The click of her heels became a faint thud, the velveteen carpet silencing her footsteps.
After a painstakingly-long while of walking, she began to doubt if she'd found the right place. None of the doors had the name of the man she was looking for.
She pressed on, adjusting her grip on the satchel, and reached the very last door of the complex. It was at the very end of the hallway—the darkest part of the building—and with a deep breath, she carefully read the name on the final door.
Graham. Consultant.
She swallowed, eyes lingering on the smaller print on the muddy glass door.
Specialized in Cambion Crimes; Changeling-Specialist.
She didn't like being here—wanted to do anything other than talk to him—but she had specific orders.
With a deep breath, she collected herself and gently knocked on the door.
Her nerves thrummed, and her pulse quickened at her throat... she had to admit, she was... scared. So when the door clicked open after what seemed like eternity, her breath couldn't help but hitch.
"Come in," said a low, gravely voice from behind the door.
The woman swallowed, taking a deep breath. There wasn't any light behind the door—just darkness—and the mere knowledge of what Graham was didn't help matters, either.
After briefly considering running away, she decided to enter.
The door creaked as she pushed it open, the glass ice-cold beneath her skin. Once she was inside, the door shut with a loud clack, leaving her in absolute darkness.
Her breaths quickened.
"Name?" asked the voice.
The woman swallowed, and she squinted when a light flicked on.
"Alana Bloom," she said softly, taking comfort in fiddling with the strap of her satchel. She let her eyes adjust to the sudden light, giving a quick sweep of the office before resting her gaze on the figure seated at the desk.
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Changeling | Hannigram AU | Rye Ambrose
Fanfiction"The Devil is in the details." Will Graham is a changeling---half human, half demon. The world is new to his species, and he meets discrimination at every corner. He's worked hard to find a place on Earth, climbing his way up the ranks to become a P...
