Brendon tugged his black shirt over his head before tucking it into his matching black jeans. He was preparing for the job, eyeing the museum map he had tapped to his wall as he tugged his clothes into place. The museum was closed tonight, given Brendon a golden opportunity to sneak in and out of the loosely secured building.

There was a side door that Brendon had first noticed upon arrival and caught a glimpse of as he walked the halls towards his destination. It fed into a hall right beside the lobby, but far enough down to avoid sight from the open space. From there, it was just a careful trek to the exhibit where the Devil's Key waited for him.

The display case that held the key was almost too simple. Relatively thin glass that wouldn't take too long to cut through and no security lasers to worry about.

It was an easy job.

Brendon brought his hand up through his hair. For the first time since arriving in this country, he felt refreshed. Maybe it was the thrill of the crime he was about to commit. Maybe it was from the dreamless rest he had just awoken from. It didn't matter. Brendon was just glad for the normal feeling.

"High hopes for this one." He grinned at his reflection. In and out. Should be no problem.

His hand came up to rest against his chest. His grin faltered with the motion. He brought his hand down and looked away from the mirror. The flash of a distorted memory crossed over his mind; the Devil's Key resting against his chest and a wicked expression he didn't fully recognize in the mirror.

Brendon shook the image away, but a weight remained in his chest. He laughed, nervously. "Never been so hyped for a job..." He spoke outloud to himself, trying to calm his usually nonexistent nerves. Never been so hyped to be done with a job.

Brendon took a deep breath and turned away from the mirror. The weight of the nonexistent object still weighed on his chest, but he ignored it. The night was about to heat up and that's what he needed to focus on, not weird feelings and dreams.

"I think I'm ready to go." He grinned as he tugged his shirt sleeves. It was now or never.

Brendon made his way over to his hotel room's door, opened it, and left without a single glance back.

The walk to the museum was quiet. Of the few people that he passed, no one paid him any mind. Everyone had their own objectives tonight, and Brendon didn't stand out enough to be fully remembered. Getting there was no problem at all. Upon arrival, however, there appeared to be a problem brewing.

Brendon swore softly when he saw people climbing the steps of the museum and strolling inside. It was supposed to be closed today. Instead of going to the side entrance as he had planned, he kept his path straight on the sidewalk. Perhaps there was a sign or small talk that would tell him what was going on. As he began walking in front of the steps, a sign is exactly what he got.

Kevin's Big 50!

A birthday party? Why the hell did Kevin want a party at a museum and who allowed it!? There had been no mention of any sort of event going on.

Brendon bit the inside of his cheek as he passed by a smartly dressed group of people. He couldn't get in dressed like this. He would need a suit to really avoid suspicion, or wait it out.

No time!

Brendon gasped at the force of the voice in his head. He stumbled, falling into the dark spaces on the outer side of the museum steps. He landed roughly on his elbow, hissing silently at the pain that shot through his arm. He pushed himself upright and leaned against the wall beside him.

He needed in, but he needed to do it stealthily. He rose to his feet, careful to maintain his balance, and began to walk further down the street. Maybe if he went around again, he could find a better way in.

Him

Brendon's eyes snapped to a figure walking towards him on the sidewalk. It was a man about his building in a suit. He looked like he was going to the museum. There was no one with him; his eyes were glued to his phone screen as his fingers danced across it.

Brendon felt a grin tug at his lips. Opportunity. There was a gap in the buildings just ahead. He quickened his pace to make sure he could time his next move right.

As Brendon came up alongside the man, he hooked their arms and pulled him into the dark alley way.

"Hey!" The guy cried out as Brendon spun him around and slammed him into a wall.

Brendon slapped a hand over the man's mouth before balling his other hand into a fist and whipping it against the man's head.

The man crumbled. Brendon let out a breath and stared at his balled up fist. He had knocked people out before, but it usually took a few punches or chloroform. He could feel a tingling spreading through his arm and a strange feeling in his gut.

Hurry

Brendon shook his head. He needed to focus. He knelt down beside the limp figure, quickly looking him over. He was about Brendon's size.

A quick clothing exchange later, Brendon was walking towards the museum. He tugged his cuff sleeve and rolled his shoulder. The suit had fit him surprisingly well. He fit perfectly into the crowd entering the museum, tagging onto a group of women that were laughing their way up the stairs.

The lobby was filled with people. Brendon frowned, noting more security guards than he had planned on. Thankfully, the hall he needed to go down was unprotected.

He carefully separated himself from the group of women and maneuvered his way through the crowd. He smiled. He laughed. He blended in as he needed to until he reached the hallway he needed to disappear down.

Once away from the crowd, he picked up his pace. He needed to hurry and get out, especially with a party going on. He rushed away from the sounds of the party.

Minutes later, Brendon was standing in front of the exhibit. He stepped inside, feeling an instant chill consume him. He shivered, watching his breath escape his lips in a puff of smoke. It hadn't been this cold yesterday.

He made his way directly across the room, only stopping once he was in front of the Devil's Key's case.

When Brendon's eyes met the empty sockets of the key, the whispers immediately started again.

Take it

Wicked intentions

The chosen darkness

Fulfill your fate

Brendon grabbed his head, instantly feeling dizzy. The voices were melding together again. His vision blurred.

take it

Take it

TAKE IT

Brendon growled alongside something inside of him. His insides felt like they were twisting. His hand clentched into a fist at his side. He didn't feel in control of his actions. The voices were screaming. His head was throbbing.

He didn't even feel it when his hand went through the glass that shielded the artifact.

Brendon's breath hitched as his vision cleared. Blood dripped from the hand that went through the glass. He stared at it, unsure what to do or what had happened. This wasn't professional; he could have been heard. His hand shook as he extended his fingers, allowing more blood to trail down his palm and drip down onto the key.

When the blood made contact with the metal, it vanished as if it was sucked into the artifact.

Brendon's hand continued to shake as he pulled it out of the case. What the fuck was going on?