All was quiet and calm in the cellar; there seemed to be no concrete signs of the seemingly malevolent spirit that Jackson had described. If not for the powerful energy that pulsated from the little trinket it likely wouldn’t have seemed suspect at all. But to a being trained to pick up on such things, it was quite clear that something which was likely less than friendly inhabited the romantic little piece. The only question was who was it had been trapped within the little thing, and what was the best method for getting rid of them?<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">~.~.~​</div><br/>A young man stood at the head of an elongated, empty room. He was indeed a sight to behold, not an inch of clothing covering a form that appeared to have been painstakingly sculpted by God himself. The nudity wasn’t erotic, it merely was, and he didn’t seem at all perturbed by the fact that he was bared to a stranger. Each strand of his thick red hair was differentiable from the others, and every freckle upon his pale skin was a welcoming island for his audience’s gaze to land upon. It was as though Draw was viewing the stranger in the crisp, unadulterated HD that was shown on the display TVs in department stories. Despite the physical beauty of the young man stood at the far end of the shared space, that wasn’t what stood out about him. What truly drew the eye towards him was the emotions held within, though they were not visible in a physical sense, of course.<br/><br/>He didn’t appear agitated, and he certainly wasn’t threatening despite his large stature; if anything, his deep brown eyes were somber. They spoke of intense pain and mourning, though what exactly he might have been mourning wasn’t clear. The energy within the stone-walled room, however, was anything but disheartening. There was an electric buzz pulsating within those four walls, and all of it seemed to emanate from the naked man that stood at its head. He stared directly into his company’s eyes, seemingly peering into his very soul, searching the depth of his mind and being for something. Still, there wasn’t any animosity held in his gaze; his energy was merely sad, yet vibrant at the same time. The unknown man began to step forward, slowly at first, and his lips began to move though no sound found it’s way out. He seemed to be addressing Drae directly, as his eyes did not shift from the man as he spoke those silent words.<br/><br/>He reached out for Drae quite suddenly, his hands grasping at the air as the look on his face shifted quite suddenly from melancholy to horrifically desperate. He seemed to be begging, pleading for Drae to take his hands, to pull him from whatever horrors may have engulfed him, but all that he could do was stand passively and watch the events that unfolded before him.<br/><br/>The red-headed stranger crumpled to the ground, appearing as though he was being forced down onto his hands and knees by some unseen force. His face a mask of sheer terror he began to grab at the rough stone floor, tearing up his fingertips and dislodging quite a few of his fingernails in the process. Desperation appeared to grip him as he was slowly pulled backward as the wall at his back splintered apart to reveal a roaring flame, the heat of which could be easily felt at the opposite end of the room. As the stranger was torn from the realm where Drae existed, and into the fire pits of whatever lay behind him a single sound penetrated the otherwise silent dream quite sharply. The shrill hollering of a suffering man, the screech of one burned alive struck clear through the air as the flames engulfed the red-haired beauty, and it was that shriek that would render Drae wide awake in his bed.