Secret World

The easy yawn that came over his lips temporarily shut out the sound of the booming headphones that he kept over his ears, a hand came up to try and muffle his own mouth to prevent onlookers from looking down at the roof of his mouth and being effected by the deep and powerful sleepy spell that folded across from his careful approach. When this long tired yawn ended he'd hear the beats of the headphones once again catch his ears giving him a pace to step forward with. It wasn't that he liked the song, truthfully he didn't like much and even the "Breaking Bad" t-shirt that he wore across his body was done so without commitment or conviction, just simply a shirt that he'd purposed for the sake of trying to connect with someone, something, wanting to make himself feel like he was part of this world in stead of some kind of phantom that people passed by without any notice. This man was neither phantom nor specter of any kind, but that only made his apparent invisibility to others all the more painful, this was why he had the headphones, people tend not to bother someone if it interrupts what they were already doing and anyone that saw him could clearly see that he was listening to some kind of horrible music that in reality he didn't exactly care for. Even as the bar that connected the two cups worked quickly to pin down his short hair the careful footsteps of this man brought his way up the length of the stairs to this wide and towering display of a building that rested before him, a building that he was visiting in order to at least be around people, and maybe if he was lucky this gentle fellow could learn a thing or two about history in between the passing crowds.

When he approached the ticket booth for entry the silent movement of the girl behind the stand shaped her lips into what looked to be words, but the only sound that he was able to hear was the heavy beat of the music constantly in his ear. Those eyes lifted from her, though, finding no reason to take in what she had said to him while looking at the price guide listed above. The sight of a single visit being that of twelve dollars seemed a bit high given that he would just be passing through a door in order to look at stuff, but as he soon noticed the cost of childrens ticket were that of eight dollars the realization washed over him and allowed him to understand the tactic in this. The woman had long since stopped trying to talk with him and simply watched as this man reached his right hand back into his rear pocket where he pulled the leather wallet that had lost it's casual smell of tanned cow hide some time ago, the dark coloring starting to fade and while it folded open to reveal a display window of his license the movement of his hand passed by that to pull free a plastic card that he'd then easily swipe down the length of the already prepared reader. With a beep desk printed a thin slip of paper from a small slit that would soon be taken by this girl and presented to the man who had been waiting a few seconds for this to be complete. With that he'd hold the ticket tightly in his hand, moving through the doorway and into the display room, a teaser for people wondering if going to the museum was worth their time. While the majority of exhibits were in the rear past the ticket collector, there were a few impressive showings out on this main floor.

Some of the displays weren't bad, simple samples of what the museums held with a corner for their Egyptian items, a few rusted up looking Greek weapons, and even a suit of armor left standing near the red painted doors that left into the rest of the building. Feeling that ticket in his hand the man made his way through the gathering people until it was his turn to hand over that ticket to the man standing there so that the tip of it could be torn along it's partitioned line and then have the majority of the ticket returned to him in order to be stuffed into a pocket. The quick movement of words flowed from that ticket collector's mouth, but all that the gentleman could hear were the beats and tones that came with the music absorbed into his ears. If anything he'd assume that the guy standing outside of this door was just welcoming him inside, but there was no true way of knowing for certain. It didn't matter he was already pressing his hand against the door, opening it and finding his way inside into this darker, more dimly lit room. The place was decorated like one would expect a theatre to be, red cloth draped down along the walls leading down a flight of stairs on either side of the doorway he'd just passed through. Blue carpeting along the walls and railing only so that red carpets could help to lead people down the length of the stairs and out into the floor that housed many fine arts, artifacts, and items of all kinds. The three forks that existed here lead the room towards the left, the right, or straight forward, and while the decorations were more sparse in this secondary lobby the items that were placed on the walls did permit someone to know what treasures rested within.

Following the path down the flight of the stairs to the left he'd look about this place, seeing the display pieces and trying to decide on where he'd like to go next, even the sight of a mounted sword lifted in it's own display case just between the stairs showed that many of the artifacts and items that they had here were well cared for. This sword had some kind of name plate with some information on it, but those reaching eyes of the music listening individual was never able to focus on them enough for him to find out what this blade was named before the ground below him began to shake, jerking his stance to the side with a gasp and a grunt.

***

The harsh shaking under him drew his attention down and around, those headphones shifting and dropping from the top of his head until they fall down around his neck leaving his had to quickly reach up and catch them by the back. The music shifted as well from filling his ears to finding them being filled with a new sound while the people of this place screamed and rushed about, trying to hold onto their footing. For the first time he could really empathize with people, say that he was feeling the same strand of emotions that they were, but also just like normal he was just an invisible cloud to the chaos and rushing around of people trying to get past him to try and get out of this place. He was an obstacle, something for them to move around, an object to get in the way, but even as he watched them moving around them, felt their shoulders brush against his own, he didn't feel the need to leave, instead this man felt the odd desire to stand strong and keep himself planted in order to wait out this shaking. The error of this decision became obvious when the floor burst up under his feet towards the center of this room. The deep roar of the horned creature tearing his way through, ripping the carpet and sending junks of stone that was once floor about the room in what could only be described as a deep explosion. Those eyes watching this widened, those that had chosen to stay were already making their way towards the exit as others charged their way into.

The loud stomping boots that rushed into the room was caused by a group of people wearing all black, the body armor on their body was set with no markings of any kind to identify them while they moved through the room and aimed their weapons. These men and women waited a few seconds for all of those still rushing from the room to get out of the way before the muzzles of their weapons began to flash over and over while bullets burst from that balcony to crack and spark against the monster's red body. These people had their attention on the beast that was still half hidden inside of the ground, it's size bringing it well up towards the roof of this place even though flames and burning rock continued to surround it's figure. The bullets that were fired hit well, striking it like punches and drawing out a deep roar from the best as it swiped it's long crimson arm across the length of the room, impacting the stairs and sending the team in dark body armor to scatter a bit as two of them were lifted from the balcony entirely and after being slapped off of it and down onto the floor below. The others continued their assault, aiming to keep up their attack until the demon was repressed back down into the hole it was burst through, a feat that so far did not seem to be working, but at least the impact from the rounds being fired seemed to be holding it in place enough for them to get the other teams ready.

Up until now the man that remained here had been in shock, his mind refusing to accept the information that his eyes were feeding him, that this demon had just crashed through the floor, but when the sound of gunfire started up man instantly curls up, his body leaning down and his hands gripping the backside of his head to try and provide himself even the slightest bit of protection against the sudden battle going on around him. Teeth gritting, figure shaking, and even as the sound of bullets bursting from their chambers overpowered the sound of the beating music that now existed around his neck, this man would try and focus on it more instead of everything that was happening around him. The vast ranges of information that was being forced on him in this little amount of time was something that could drive a person like him insane and while the staircase was all but destroyed over him a hand moved to take hold of his arm, pulling him quickly to the side and away from that fighting that was going on. Those eyes turned quickly, locking onto the face of a very concerned grey haired man that looked on at him, speaking through his short beard and mustache while the old man's own eyes locked onto beast that they were all fighting. He didn't wear the same outfit as the other people, where the soldiers seemed to be dressed for actual combat, the sight of a few lesser battle ready people entered quickly in what could only be described as street gear. They all looked different given their outfits, but this one had what could only be described as a jean jacket with a white shirt tucked into blue jeans and a brown belt. Those lips on his face moved, just like they had for everyone else before, but this time he didn't have the heavy rhythm of music as an excuse to why he wasn't able to make out what he was saying. In seconds the world seemed to open up around this younger man again, sound returning, focus coming back, and the world almost rewriting itself in his mind as his mental state finally gave in to the information that was being provided and allowed it to be accepted as his new reality.

"Kid, I asked if you're OK?" The old man repeated himself getting closer into the man's face to make it easier for him to be heard.

This man quickly nodded, he wasn't hurt, but was still finding speaking to be a challenge while his eyes were drawn quickly into the sight of flashes of light starting to form. At first the man thought that this was some other kind of attack from the demon, but what he saw wasn't the towering creature making these flashes, but the other humans that had come in with this old man cutting shapes into the air, chanting softly under their breath, and holding different styles of items in order to draw out the energies around them into what looked to be focused balls of fire that they'd then throw at the creature. Every one seemed to have their own way of doing this, but the results were the same, and while one would think that the flames wouldn't effect a creature from hell the damage was very clearly burning into his flesh, searing it and leaving charred patches about the massive creature's body. If anything the bullets had given the force of punches to the beast's body, but these magic spells were doing the real damage to weaken this beast down, at least that is until the demon decided to attack back. It's hand moved quickly along the hold that it stood in, the fire being pulled up from the depths of the hell it had come from and while it drew those flames into a large and burning ball of fire that was lifted over the black horns of the beast, a fast movement of the hand would launch that fireball straight down at the magic users that were then either forced to scatter or become victims that would drop down with the burning flesh lifting as steam from their once living figures.

The explosion of the fireball didn't only burn some, though, it burst out in a shock wave sending many of the people backwards and to the side. The man that had only come to visit a museum today ended up finding his body crashing into the sword display that he had been trying to read when the demon arrived, that sword clicking across the ground just as his body skipped against the hard floor and against the wall. The headphones that now lay scattered across the floor were a lost memory at this point, and were the last of his concerns while he gripped the back of his head that had hit the wall and groaned out from the pain. There was a clear reality here far beyond the fact that demons existed and that was the fact that he was probably going to die here. It took a bit of realization that the people specifically equipped to shoot and throw spells at this thing were unable to handle it and so that meant that this simple fellow who had no training, or gear, to deal with it was far more likely to meet his end here, and certainly wasn't going to let himself be the excuse for why someone had to sacrifice themselves to protect him. No, he was going to fight back, throw himself into the maw of the beast, and find an end to this world with some dignity. When the man found his feet his hand brushed across the old relic of a sword that he'd crashed into, the sight of it didn't look like much, just some simple European weapon that his fingers wrapped around and lifted up.

Many say that when adrenaline kicks in the body becomes stronger, faster, more focused, and those people in this situation were absolutely wrong. The sword weighted a bit, balanced at the front of the grip, but still in itself weighing enough to slow his movements. His feet coming down under him in order to kick against the ground in order to throw himself forward towards this towering beast. He had already decided that if he was going to die, then he was going to do so like an idiot, throwing himself into the depths of the horse drawn chariot, or whatever it was that carried people off when they got brutally murdered by a savage beast. His hand gripped around a weapon that he not only had every single bit of confidence wouldn't work, but was counting on it shattering on impact. If he was going to get taken out this day then he was going to do so with a blind raging charge that he learned his body was supposed to do by watching many dramatic movies and video games that depicted this exact scene so many times before. As the blade was lifted high over his head, his body arching wide in preparation for his swing, and with the sword being brought forward aiming to pass it straight down into the floor itself his ideas of what the blade would do failed to meet his expectations. It didn't shatter, it didn't even glance off and instead by the time he became focused enough to open his eyes again his ears picked up the sound of something heavy hitting the floor of this building, not once, but twice.

He had no idea what had happened, his mind drawing a bit of a blank on it just after he had started his downward swing towards the massive demon, but by the time his eyes opened again he could see the sight of the blade marks left all the way up into the roof cutting down the length of the building all the way down the wall and finally leaving a huge gash in the floor itself. This massive cut had only been made by a sword that now continued to look to be only three feet long, but was only visible by the sight of the two halves of monster that rested on either side of it's hole as it had been split right down the middle from that swing. The fiery pit of hellfire that had been left there now cooled, leaving a smoking crater where the flames used to be that took up the majority of the room itself, and while the beast remained half buried inside of this crater this man was still focused on the level of damage that he'd managed to create with a single swing and not only wishing that he'd left his eyes open to see it, but wondering how it was possible to begin with. That hand continued to wrap around the sword handle with two hands, one having to grip down on the pommel itself thanks to the single-handedness of the weapon itself, but soon another hand gripped onto his shoulder, forcing him to turn in shock at the sight of the bearded man that had spoken to him before giving him an easy grin that left this man not only a touch uncomfortable, but also worried about what this guy was clearly had going on through his head.

***

The sword had been left behind, more upon request from this old man than anything else, but also under the knowledge that it still belonged now the museum that now desperately needed remodeling and to contact its insurance company. It was hard to tell for him when he'd been escorted outside, but while he gripped onto what remained of his favorite headphones it was clear that he was finally getting some attention, even if it was from this old dude and a few others that had walked by giving him some kind of odd pat on the back. Already news reporters were outside the building, pointing their cameras at it that they then stood in front of in order to speak into their cameras directly. Only in passing did he have a chance to hear what they were saying, the entire situation being blamed on some kind of terrorist bombing and even people that he'd seen running from the demon admitting to exactly that collective story. The sound of it came across as being fake in itself, but even this man started to believe that was exactly what happened. A bomb made sense in a way, the bursting of the ground, the sudden cost of life of the soldiers that had been there. The more he thought about it, the more he opened himself up to the idea, the more real it seemed that what he experienced was the fake lie.

"Hey, don't listen to that." The voice of the older man spoke out to him easily enough, he hadn't noticed before but the gruff tone that rolled from this man's voice perfectly matched the sight of him lifting a cigarette to his lips and taking a deep smoke of it, "You did good in there."

"Did good? What?" The man said softly, almost squeaking his voice out as though he hadn't used it in the longest time.

"Listen, people's minds have trouble accepting anything out of the ordinary, supernatural. When they experience something like that, a real occurrence, they'll rationalize it as something else. Get what I'm saying?" he explained easily enough to the man, not wanting him to lose the experience that he'd just gained from having slayed something that massive the way that he did.

The man looked back over his shoulder, blinking at the reporters and listening to the stories all being told the same from different perspectives, "But.. No no, they have to be right, they're all saying the same thing. It was a bomb."

The movements of the both of them stopped immediately and this grayed man gripped the shoulders of the younger fellow to force him into looking into those eyes, "The world works on a shared consciousness. The brain sends out signals of information, so when there's a lack of information because something was blocked out it gets replaced with the information from someone elses. Someone that was there decided that it was a bomb, because they can't handle the truth, and so everyone else picks up on that information and accepts it to overwrite their own minds. It was working on you too." The man tried to pull away but was jerked back by this old casually dressed soldier, "You did good in there, and I need you to come with me. We can use someone like you in our group, someone that can handle himself the way that you did."

"Get off me!" He yelled out, not taking kindly to the sudden jerking motion and quickly lifting his hands to throw the grip of that old man off of him before backing away. "Look, alright? I don't what you're going on about. It was a bomb OK? And I'm not going anywhere with you."

The sudden refusal left the old man standing there in near shock, wondering what he could say and how he could handle himself to bring this kid over to his side, but when he realized that he might have pushed him too hard to fast the only option was to left the man go. Allow him to return to his home so that he could sort things out and hope that in some way this fellow would be able to realize what had happened here today. The sudden realization that he didn't know who this kid was hit him quickly and hard as he even let out a gasp and stepped forward to shout after him.

"What's your name, kid?"

If anything the question was harmless, he didn't think that this crazed guy was going to come after him anytime soon and obviously the old man just needed time to accept the bombing for what it was. These things were hard on people, and so the kid decided to play nice for now, "Nathan. My name is Nathan." he finally shouted back to him.

"I'm Sampson, Roger Sampson." The old man called back to him offering this kid the information that the Nathan hadn't asked for, but was being given anyway.