The drive through town, with the morning sun reflecting off the dashboard of her 2005 PT Cruiser, is only mildly annoying. There are few cars on the roads, with most of the first shift workers already long since clocked in their offices and the next rush not due until noon. She drives carefully, listening to the sound of the tires against the asphalt and the gentle hum of the transmission under the hood. The roads are damp with yesterday's showers, an occasional puddle splashing onto the raised grass by the side of the road as she pulls into tight turns at various stop signs and stop lights.
She pulls to a steady stop at a red light in the middle of a heavily wooded area, the road curving up ahead into an eventual right turn she knows she'll have to take soon. She is alone at the stop light, and without putting much thought into the action she turns the radio knob to 'on' and her body vibrates pleasantly as the radio bursts to life.
"…first time this particular exhibit has come to our corner of the country, right?" The female's voice crackles slightly at first, gently coming into a pleasant clarity just as the radio show host finishes her question to their guest of the day.
"Yes, yes in fact it is and we are quite excited for this day. The University has always wanted a chance to study this particular group of relics from the crusades, and most of us weren't sure we would ever get the chance." The male that answers her laughs heartily to himself, a pleasant enough sound on its own but one that doesn't seem to match the tone of his voice.
"So, to inform those just turning into the show. We are currently meeting with Professor Malik from the local University here in town…"
She curses to herself, biting down rather too forcefully on her bottom lip as she presses her right foot to the accelerator of her car. She knew that name 'Professor Malik' was notorious around the campus where she worked and studied, and not in a favorable light. He was an easier liar, and a sweet talker all the students and staff knew to take half-heartedly. She also realized, perhaps too late, just as she was turning into the long road which would eventually open up onto the campus of the very University the radio was now discussing that she knew nothing of this potential 'exhibit', and that fact made her stomach twist uncomfortable.
"…sure to stop by the University this weekend, open at 8AM on Saturday, to check out the exhibit for yourself. For many in this town I know this will be a-" The woman's voice abruptly goes silent as she parks and shuts the car off, the hum of the transmission ringing in her mental audio processes while the gentle buzzing of the engine as it cools down the only thing her ears perceive at the moment.
The parking lot around her is large, and she considers herself lucky to have been able to park only three rows away from the main entrance as she glances around the sea of parked vehicles for sight of any one car she may know. Almost instantly she catches sight of His car, noticeable only by the 'Dare to Wonder' bumper sticker plastered in the back window.
The car beeps happily behind her as she stomps off towards the school building, ignoring the shocking cold that beats against her body through the open jacket she has yet to zip up. Almost awkwardly she stuffs the car keys into her jacket pocket, struggling to hold it against her chest as she makes her way into the building.
"What the hell, John?" Her voice is noticeable irritated and she squeezes her body into the partially closed door to stand, huffing and almost out of breathe, in front of his office desk. John, in stark comparison, sits calmly and collected behind his desk, working slowly through a pile of paperwork placed neatly stacked on his desk.
"How can I help you this morning, Rayne?" His voice is gentle, almost intoxicating. He's trying to placate her, and the knowledge causes her to furrow her brows furiously and struggle to take a calming breathe so she doesn't explode on him… a reaction he is all too skilled at drawing from her normally collected composure.
"You know damn well." She bits down on her bottom lip again, the heavy iron taste of blood briefly covering her tongue before being diluted by saliva.
"You listened to the radio this morning, I presume?" That irritatingly calm attitude again, but now he finally lowers the paper he was working on and looks up to her. His pale blue eyes cause her heart to hitch slightly in her throat, and she finds herself swallowing down something that for once isn't stress or bile.
"When was I going to be told?" The anger has dissipated from her voice by now, a shaky unsureity lacing her tone instead.
"Now, sadly." He avoids his eyes as she groans vocally, giving her a moment of peace to engage in an act he knows she would see as completely loss of composure and completely inappropriate in front of her superior.
"How?" She finally asks, helpless now.
"He bought us out."
"Dammit. How?"
"He had more money than us."
"But it's Malik dammit!" She bits down on her lip again, visibly shocked that she had actually raised her voice in front of John.
"Relax, I understand. I'm angry too." She drops her shoulders slightly, collapsing into a chair in front of his desk.
"We've been booked for a year now… I just…"
"I know. It's complete bullshit." His eyes sharpen on her, and he quickly drops his gaze to the papers on his desk as she visibly shrinks against his gaze. "Listen, Rayne, its bullshit, it is, but he offered more money than we could offer. He rented out the space last night, I was hoping to be the one you found out from."
"…what do we do now, then?" She sounds defeated, and once again he looks towards her... his eyes noticeably softer, almost like a father contemplating over his child who had just lost their first pet.
"You keep your research, we'll book another date to present, and I suggest you show up at Professor Malik's presentation to show your support for a fellow peer. No reason to let his bullshit muddle your own standards."
"Have you contacted the families?"
"I have. Luckily for us he gave us a week of time to prepare for this. No one was scheduled to arrive in town until Thursday."
"They've agreed to come out again whenever we can get them here?"
"Yes, surprisingly you've managed to gather quite a collection of fans, the families included. No one gives more of a damn about reincarnation than those few people who claim they themselves have experienced it. They'll come, don't worry about that." Swiftly he gathers his papers neatly on his desk and pushes up from his own chair, his hands planted firmly on either side of the stack as he looks over Rayne. "Now, come on. I have one more piece of bad news."
Hesitatingly she looks up at him, clearly pouting.
"We've been roped into doing maintenance for Professor Malik's presentation. He wants us to catalog and look over the relics his sponsor has brought in." John can't help but chuckle as Rayne groans out loudly, dropping her head loudly to the desk in front of her.
Rayne's shoulder length dark brown hair is tied back into a bun and wrapped up carefully in multiple plastic food-prep caps. She wears large think scientific goggles, goggles which only serve to heighten the plump appearance of her pleasantly round face. People were constantly complimenting her round face, always telling her how young it made her look as if looking barely sixteen when she was actually twenty-two now was a good thing and something meant to be replicated as often as possible. She was just annoyed by the features that characterized her face, her strange brown eyes the only pride of her facial appearance. It wasn't the color that pleased her, because in all honesty brown by itself wasn't that impressive of a color, it was their very appearance. How looking into them could make you lose yourself, as if you were staring into something that had been around on this planet far longer than yourself. Her eyes knew things, as John was ought to say.
She sits at a large table, various odds and ends spread out evenly across the surface. Directly in front of her is a notebook, various notes scribbled in messy quick hand as she goes through each artifact carefully and takes notes about its appearance. John had told her that this had been done by the sponsor already by his own archeological team, but Malik had begged them to do it as well just in case something came up 'broken' or 'missing' and they had their own records of everything.
"Where is all of this stuff from, anyway, John?" John sat at his own table behind her, working just as diligently as she was. One gloved hand holding the objects as they described them on paper, the other gloved hand scrippling down notes as descriptively as they could manage.
"I've been told that they are artifacts from the crusades…" He trails off, returning his full attention to the strange scrap of metal he holds in his left hand.
"That can't be true though, most of these artifacts look like they come from the 16th century at the latest." She gingerly picks up a coin, twirling it gently between her index finger and thumb, eyeing the square hole in the center of the golden coin and studying the characters raised at each of the four corners of the center. "Besides, this coin looks Chinese. The crusades never expanded past Europe and the Middle East, right?"
"I don't know, Rayne, I'm a psychologist not a historian." He sighs slightly, and she has to once again bit down on her bottom lip to prevent herself from chuckling at his frustration. He obviously hated being roped into this as much, if not more, than she did.
"It's just…" Slowly she puts the coin down and turns to face John's back, which is hunched over in struggled frustration, "…they can't set up an exhibit of this stuff claiming it's from the crusades when it's at least an entire century too late, can they?"
"Rayne," He sighs heavily, openly this time, and turns in his black plastic chair to face her as well. "We live in an extremely religious town, and the University, whether we agree with this or not, will make a lot of money off of pushing this stuff as crusader history. Besides, these tiny trinkets here aren't the big selling point. The big selling point is the 'Golden Box'."
"'Golden Box?' Why would anyone want to come and see a big box?"
"Apparently it's not the box itself, but what's in the box."
"And what is that supposed to be? A corpse of some general or something?" She chuckles softly, growing silent at the shift in John's face as he looks at her in calm seriousness.
"The corpse of a demon, actually."
AN: Alright, finally getting around to formatting this chapter so she looks a little cleaner. Sorry about leaving her messy for a little bit, I uploaded her just in time to head off to class and I'm still getting used to how FF does their uploads/formats and stuff.
Thank you so much for everyone who left comments on the last chapter, I feel super supported and loved and I assure you that I don't plan on disappearing into the void any time soon!
Be sure to read, comment, like, favorite, follow, and whatever else should be done!
Thanks again
~Chey