It was dark outside, and very cold. Snow had fallen, and the temperature had dropped enough to see your own breath. The street lamps flickered a bit, enough to illuminate about 4 feet worth of street or sidewalk. One street lamp managed to light up a sign on a store, it read: "Carter's Antique" on it. The shop was surprisingly still open, since the shop owner, Charles Carter didn't close till about 10PM. It was 9PM right now. Which meant an hour left before the shop was to close. Within that shop, it was old fashioned, with shelves full of wondrous antiques. Old pocket watches, porcelain dolls, old rugs, even a antique mailbox. Statues and figures lined the shelves as well. If you were to step inside, you'd think you went back in time. Everything you could imagine from back then, was here on these very shelves. It was because Charles Carter, the owner of 'Carter's Antique' had been all over the world collecting these in his time. He was at the age of 71, but still going strong.<br/><br/>In the back of the shop, there was a sign that said, "Warning: Unauthorized Personnel are not Allowed Beyond this Point" Beyond that door, led to a spacious but yet small room. It would have been a storage room, but not for what was living back there. No, what was living back there, was said to be a monster. Well, that's what he told his customers. Charles had actually found something that wasn't an antique, but rather, something a bit more unique than anything in this shop. A guy who had been possessed. He was so dangerous, he had to be kept locked up in that room. Sad, isn't it? But that's the way it had to be. There was nothing much else he could do. The sounds of banging against walls in that locked up room, like a personal asylum all his own. Charles wasn't doing wrong for the guy, no, he was protecting him from himself and his own self-harm. Charles on the other hand, was busy organizing things on the shelves.