11. Down With the Sickness, Disturbed
"You've woken up the demon in me"
One of the men in the garish costume and makeup raised their heads, his eyes expressing the instinctual fear everyone feels - the ancient fight or flight instinct was kicking in even if he wasn't quite sure what he heard that made him so afraid - what he felt.
"Can you feel that?" Jack, next to him, asked in an almost reverent whisper.
Dug at the window went still, like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming semi. "Oh, shit," and his tone was almost dejected, as if he had given up already.
By now, he knew he had felt something, the anger and malevolence was hard to miss. "What the hell is it, man?"
Before anyone could answer (even if they knew what to answer), the door burst inward as if it had exploded from the inside.
They were so surprised, she was inside and in the middle of the room, floating four feet off the ground, her hair lifted by an unnatural wind and her eyes a dark blood red, crackling power before they realized it.
Humans don't move like that.
"Where is he?"