The night sky was devoid of clouds, making the night seem more vibrant than it appeared. He had encountered many clients of this sort, but never had he felt as terrified as he did stepping into the building full of predators. Lurking in the shadows, looking for their prey. Loud sounds from inside indicated that something had happened. As he stepped inside, he tensed up. The air was thick with the smell of anxiety; it was as if he had entered a lion's den. Venturing deeper into the place, it was quiet except for the animalistic sound coming from deep in the place; red eyes stared at him as he walked past the statue-like figures. The darkness intensified with each step he took. He carefully descended the stairs, ensuring not to miss a step.
His body tipped backward as he missed a step, but Jameson quickly reached out to the walls, preventing himself from tumbling down the spiral staircase. Letting out a sigh, Jameson straightened his tie and brushed down his suit before descending the last few steps. By the bottom step, darkness had completely engulfed him. "Why not add lights? You can barely see anything down here," he muttered, his heart still racing from the near fall.
"On the contrary, we see perfectly well," a voice replied as two glowing red eyes emerged from the shadows, causing Jameson to step back and glare at the figure before him.
"You need to stop doing that," Jameson said, straightening up once more.
"We haven't heard from you in a while," the figure pointed out.
"You haven't been around for a while, Michael. I was busy following a lead and spending time with my family," Jameson replied, met with silence as Michael waited expectantly.
"A few weeks ago, I met a woman who asked for my help," he began.
"What does that have to do with us?" Michael questioned.
"She was a Graverose witch."
A heavy silence hung in the air. Michael already knew the answer. He stepped closer to Jameson, his eyes glowing. "You found the witch and didn't inform us?" Michael asked, anger emanating from him.
"I couldn't inform you. As you know, there are those lurking everywhere seeking a Graverose witch," he explained.
"What did she want from you, and where is she now?" Michael pressed.
"She needed my help, and then she would surrender," Jameson said.
"You believed a Graverose witch would willingly surrender to you, knowing she would be executed," Michael reasoned with Jameson.
"She needed my help with her daughter," Jameson revealed.
"So there are two Graverose witches out there," Michael asked, intrigued. "I assume something happened; otherwise, the witch would have been here by now."
"The thing is, Michael, I haven't heard from the woman in weeks, and I fear something terrible may have happened," Jameson expressed.
"You have her name, don't you? Then why don't you track her down?" Michael pressed.
"The problem is, I can't remember her name or what she looked like; otherwise, she would have been here already. I have a lead. About two weeks ago, there was a brutal attack in the city; something savagely tore apart a woman. Some witnesses claimed they didn't see anyone with her until after the attack when a girl was found unconscious. For the past couple of weeks, I've been trying to locate her, but the spell they cast on themselves complicates things since no one can track them or even remember them," he explained.
"That could be a lead. Search for the daughter, or perhaps have Oakley sift through your mind for glimpses; we need to find her," Michael suggested anxiously as the sound of rattling chains and animalistic noises emanated from behind the steel door.
Jameson's head turned toward the door from where the sounds were coming. "How is he doing?" Jameson inquired, his voice tinged with concern. Despite his fear, he had known them for many decades.
ROAR
The ground trembled beneath their feet.
"Take a look for yourself," Michel urged as they made their way down the corridor.
Michael seized the handle of the reinforced steel door, flinging it open to reveal a figure hunched on the ground, chains encircling his form, anchoring him to the walls and floor.
With each breath the man took, his body heaved. His head jerked back, startling Jameson, who stepped back at the sight of the man's red eyes glaring at him.
ROAR
The chains clanged, straining under the force.
"That won't hold him," Jameson declared. Michael met Jameson's gaze blankly. "Thank you for that insight, Jameson. I'm aware it won't hold, but I'm here, and these chains are not ordinaryâ€"they're designed to prevent wolves from transforming. It should keep his wolf at bay, though his other side might pose some issues."
"This isn't his usual transformation, is it?" Jameson inquired, observing the chained man clutching his head. "No, this is different. We thought the flashes had ceased, but they've only intensified," Michael admitted with a sigh. "What are these flashes about?" Jameson probed.
"We're not sure; he can't discern anything," Michael responded, irritated that centuries have passed with no progress in finding a Graverose witch. "But we will return shortly; we have to take care of things here for the court," Michael informed him.
CRACK
Jameson and Michael watched as the chains were wrenched from the wall.
"I'll inform you if I come across any leads on the girl," Jameson vowed. "Please do," Michael replied composedly as he stepped into the room with the chained man, closing the metal door behind him.