A single raindrop tumbled from the sky, landing on the window of an old apartment complex. The woman inside stirred in her bed, still engrossed in one of her more vivid dreams. Another drop of rain follows the first. And another. And another, gradually increasing in pace until the points of impact on the roof, walls, and windows produce a cacophony of drumbeats, drowning out the early morning traffic. The woman stirred more, but still did not awake. She burrowed further into her sea of blankets and pillows, a look of concern developing upon her unconscious face. The clouds darkened, blocking out the sun, which had struggled to rise above the tremendous heights of the surrounding sky scrapers. A bolt of lightning, as if hurled by Zeus himself, struck the antenna of a nearby building, producing a tremendous clap of thunder that shook the surrounding buildings to their cores. The woman jolted at the sound of the thunder, her eyes flying open and darting around the room as though she were trying to find the hiding place of some imaginary intruder.

Beads of sweat began to form on her forehead and under her armpits. “It’s alright Emily,” she whispered to herself, attempting to calm herself down. “All the doors are locked. The security system is on. You’re okay.” She slowly made her way out from under the covers, lowering her feet to the carpet and standing up. She picked up her phone which had been resting on her night stand and gazed upon the glowing screen.

One email from her boss. One missed call from a telemarketer in the Middle East. But no texts. She unlocked the phone, somberly scrolling through her previous texts with Dillon. Her wall of unanswered messages lit her face up with blue light as she began to grow even more worried than she had been for the past two weeks. She stared longingly at the bed, hoping that he would somehow magically appear, but he never did. She sighed, slipping her phone into her sweatpants as she made her way into the kitchen.

As Emily placed two pieces of bread into the toaster, she powered on the television on and turned to the news. “Breaking weather reports are currently analyzing a massive thunderstorm developing over the downtown area,” a bubbly meteorologist said, far too energetic for it to be 8 a.m. “Experts speculate that there was a shift in the winds overnight, carrying a cold front back across the lake, which is most likely the cause for the current situation. If you go out today, make sure to pack and umbrella and wear a raincoat!”

Emily glared out the window at the streaks of rain pouring down the sides of the surrounding buildings as more bolts of lightning rained down from the heavens. “So much for a good start to the day,” she thought to herself. The toaster dinged as the news report droned on in the background about the newest trend on social media or some equally unimportant topic. It was just background noise for Emily. Her mind was somewhere else completely.

After finishing her toast, Emily slipped into some jeans, grabbed a pair of rain boots, and once again grabbed her phone. She went into her internet history and scrolled down through several pages of Facebook posts and search results of recipes for cookies and fudge when she finally found what she was looking for. She tapped on the address, which sent her to a map application. She walked out her front door, grabbing her rain jacket as she did so, and pushed the button to call the elevator. The fifteen second wait felt like an eternity to her as her mind spun with conflicting ideas.

“You need to do this!” one voice in her head said.

Don’t be ridiculous,” chimed another. “You’re actually going to believe any of this crap?”

“What other choice do we have?” the first voice inquired.

Memories of her husband swirled around her mind as she brainlessly stepped into the elevator. She thumbed the button for the main floor as her ideals delivered a presidential debate in her head.

Finally stepping out into the main lobby, she made her way to the front door, opening it to gale force winds that would put most hurricanes to shame. People were running through ankle deep puddles, heads down as the hurried from cover to cover, stopping to catch their breath and dry off in any store front or under any overhang that they could find. Emily groaned. “Leave it to Cleveland,” she thought. The two voices agreed.

She looked up and down the street, hoping to see a taxi. Cars were whizzing by at incredible speeds, far too fast considering the weather conditions. Water flew up from the street as vehicles sloshed through the massive puddles. Pedestrians on the sidewalk were getting soaked, not that it mattered much considering the amount of rain already pouring down on them. Looking down at her phone, she hurriedly followed the pulsing blue line to her destination, walking five blocks before the jungle of apartment complexes and businesses began to gradually change into smaller and smaller buildings, eventually becoming a residential neighborhood.

After walking through twisting side streets, she eventually made her way to a main road. She walked several more blocks through the storm to end all storms before her phone buzzed in her hand. She looked down, the relieving message, “You have arrived at your destination,” flickered across the screen before it turned black.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she groaned, remembering that she had forgotten to plug it in overnight. She slid the phone into her jacket and looked up at the storefront immediately in front of her. Emily became confused. “This can’t be,” she thought, as she stared at a neon sign for a tattoo parlor. She almost fell to her knees in desperation, losing her last shreds of hope as she came to the realize that it had all been a hoax. “I should never have trusted that stupid forum,” she muttered, tears forming in her eyes.

She stared at the ground in disbelief as water flowed down the sidewalk. Puddles were forming near the base of the buildings, reflecting a distorted image of her broken face.

Suddenly, the sound of an explosion reverberated through the store, shaking the walls. Emily jumped backwards in shock, slipping in a massive puddle as she watched flecks of brick fall from the sides of the building. Once the shaking stopped, she stood up and tried to look through the windows, which had been tinted so well it appeared as though she were staring into a black hole.

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Emily cautiously walked up to the door of Mentawai Nail, pushing it open as slowly as possible. She called out through the small crack in the door. “Hello?”

“I’m so sorry sweetie, but we’re closed right now,” a voice replied. Against her better judgement, Emily pushed through the doorway and found herself standing in a lobby, a small counter in front of her with a tinted glass door behind it. The walls were made of wooden panels that had been stained a dark red, with dim lights glowing in each corner.

Behind the counter sat an old, frail man. He was nearly hairless, but a few wisps of black remained atop his head. The most shocking feature of the man was the fact that he was wearing little to no clothing. Several wooden necklaces and beads hung from his neck, which accented the fact that his entire torso was covered in a simple, black tattoo. A single line ran down the center of his body, with rings around his shoulders and swirls covering his arms.

“You must not have heard me dear, we’re not taking any customers right now,” the old man said, smiling as another boom shook the entire store. His yellowing teeth were a result of his terrible tobacco addiction, which Emily wouldn’t have picked up on had it not been for the stench of smoke that hung in the air like a deadly cloud of toxic fumes.

“Is everything okay in there?” inquired Emily, looking over the man’s shoulder, trying to peer into what she assumed was the main room of the store.

“Why would you ask such a strange question?” replied the man, clearly unconcerned with the sounds of bottles crashing and metal clanging behind him. “Nothing could possibly be happening; the store is closed. I can help you schedule an appointment for tomorrow if you want me to.” He pulled out a notebook from under the counter, furiously scribbling with what appeared to be a simple stick across the yellowed pages.

“You can’t just ignore what’s going on back there! Someone might be hurt!”

“Back where?” The man looked very puzzled upon saying this, and for a moment Emily thought that he might have Alzheimer’s. He did look older than anyone she had ever seen before.

This empathy quickly turned to frustration, as the explosions continued in the background. With a boost of courage that seemed to come from nowhere, Emily slipped around the counter, pushing past the strange man. “Wait! Don-” his voice cut off as he began to tumble from his stool, the door slamming behind her. In front of her stretched an eternity of black. She called out through the silence.

“Hello? Is anybody in here? Are you okay?” Her voice echoed through the room. She took several steps forward as the rumblings grew quiet. There was absolute silence throughout the entire building. Emily stumbled backwards, growing fearful of the eerie blackness of the place. She grasped for the door handle but tripped and fell into the wall. Groaning, she slid her hands along the smooth wall, trying to find where she had entered the room.

As she searched for a way out, growing claustrophobic as the darkness seemed to wrap around her. On the wall opposite the one she was clawing at, a rectangle of light appeared, a black figure standing out against it. She turned around as the opening bathed the room in light, revealing the tattoo stations lining the walls. “Come back! I said we are closed!” shouted the old man, now holding a long staff that he leaned on for support.

Emily’s mind was spinning. “How did I end up all the way over here?” she wondered, covering her eyes from the blinding light as she took a step toward her escape. Suddenly, a massive roar shattered the silence, freezing Emily in her steps.

“You must hurry! Quickly!” Before she could fully understand what was happening, the floorboards began to shake. They heard a rumbling from beneath, which slowly grew higher in volume and pitch before a blast of energy decimated the floor, sending a figure hurtling through the air, hitting the ceiling with a loud thud before falling to the ground at Emily’s feet. A massive hole had formed in the center of the room, a soft, blue light flickering up from the basement.

A drop of blood fell from the man’s face as Emily began to scream. She fled to the corner of the room, seeking refuge behind one of the many racks of equipment, peering through the gaps between the vats of ink and incredibly sharp tattooing apparatus.

The mysterious man was wearing much more than the old man. His tattered, black, button-down shirt was stained in several places from gaping wounds that appeared to be very fresh. Short, platinum blonde hair seemed to illuminate the room as he struggled to stand up. He was massive, in both height and build, his broad shoulders rippling with muscles.

Breathing heavily, blood running down his face, the man faced the hole in the floor with purpose. The quivering blue light grew in intensity, rapidly flashing as a streak of blue shot up from the hole, hovering in midair before the man.

A blue orb, surrounded by a dark cloud of thick air stared down the tall man, small sparks of electricity flying in every direction. Emily watched in awe as a tendril of darkness flung itself at the man. He ducked under the attack and reached a hand up, wrapping it around the air itself. With a mighty tug, he yanked the orb backwards and flung it across the room. It crashed into the wall with an impact that splintered the wood, cracking the orb in the process.

A shrill hissing noise came from the orb as Emily and the old man covered their ears. The tall man calmly approached the broken orb. The dark air surrounding it was twitching as a turquoise liquid spewed onto the floor. The man’s mouth moved, but what he was saying went unheard to the other two, as the orb continued to scream. A soft light shone from beneath the man’s shirt, shining out of his collar, sleeves and tears. Suddenly, the outline of a golden box appeared around the orb, trapping it and its cries for help. The darkness pounded against the walls of the box, attempting to seek revenge on the man who had trapped it there.

Emily was crying. She was terrified, not only of the creature but of the tall man as well, capable of doing things she had previously thought impossible. On the other hand, the old man smiled as he leaned on his staff. “I wonder what we’ll be having for dinner,” he wondered as he turned around and shut the door, returning to his post at the front desk.

The wave of darkness once again blanketed the room, one corner of it lit by the beings of incredible power. The tall man outstretched his arm toward the box before closing his eyes. A moment of silence passed before a jet of flames shot out from his palm, expanding to engulf the entirety of the box. His onslaught continued for a minute, illuminating the room with flickering reds and yellows. Eventually, the roaring flames stopped, and the room went dark again.   

Hyperventilating, Emily gripped the rack for support as she stood up. She took a step toward where she remembered the door being and immediately fell again as her knees buckled. In an instant, all the lights in the room came on, as if though by magic. She looked up and saw the tall man standing in front of her, holding a dust pan. For the first time, she got a good look at his face. A thick, dark beard covered his rigid jawline, contrasting with his other hair. His eyes were a deep shade of blue. The look on his face was that exhaustion, his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows falling. Through the holes in his shirt she could see that his body was riddled with tattoos of all colors, shapes, and sizes.

In awe, she stared at this man, uncertain of what to do or how to react. For the first time that Emily could hear, the man spoke. His voice sounded like that of an angel, contrasting with the terrible noise of the orb. It was smooth, yet rugged. Calm, but loud. “Zholhal! I’m gonna need you to do some maintenance in the work room. I have to take care of our guest.”