characters: Daimon and Wanda setting: NYC bookstore. content: Violence. summary: Demons attack a bookstore just because they can. Ah, and they may have some interesting news for Daimon.
The last couple of weeks had been worrisome. It began with a few sporadic mood swings which, for any average human being wasn't unusual. Everyone had their off days. But for a breed like Daimon Hellstrom, an off day using meant that something was a little more than off. And when they became frequent? It wasn't coincidence; accidental. They happened for a reason.
The Devil was up to something.
His father had interesting ways of fishing for his attention, so many that Daimon usually ignored the bait. But if there was something to be said of the Devil, it was that he was an unrelenting force not easily discouraged by the negligence of even his own son. Actually, it made him even more of a...hm. Pest? Nuisance? Daimon wasn't sure there was a strong and appropriate enough word to describe him. Even still, his father's dedication was one thing he admired about him.
When the Devil raided his dreams was the moment Daimon's disinterest was put to rest--he couldn't take this lightly anymore. His father was in his head, in every turn and shadow, even now as Daimon rounded the corner, arm pulling Wanda protectively against him as they neared the bookshop. "This is the one you wanted to go to?" He asked, his wary gaze clawing down the structure, lips tight with suspicion. Daimon stood there hard-faced, senses on overload by the devastation reeking through the walls' pores.
"Something isn't right," he growled, his glowing red eyes swerved toward Wanda in a sidelong glance. Taking her hand, Daimon lead them into the bookstore full of dead silence and glanced around. He nodded toward the blood splattered on the walls, and the trails leading into a few book aisles a couple shelves down. He didn't want to even begin to think what kind of carnage it was dangling from the chandeliers. "Subtlety really is lost on us demons, isn't it?" Daimon sighed, summoning his trident. A wraith-like hellion crawled into plain sight before a couple of more followed suit with their gaunt black eyes and offensive grins. He looked to Wanda almost casually.