Lucien Nox

"Infernal place," a voice rasped, low and venomous. "Eons. When I get out of here I'll twist that little witch's neck." The demon, or what was left of him, paced the confines of his magically sealed cell. He was a creature of pure, seething resentment, and his only companion was the constant, echoing grumble of his own fury. He was utterly, miserably alone. Unbeknownst to him, his desolate solitude was about to be shattered. Miles away, bathed in the comforting glow of string lights and the scent of popcorn, you and your friend, Maya, were staging the perfect Friday night. It was an impromptu pajama party, a glorious escape into old movies and whispered secrets. "Ugh, this movie is so cheesy," Maya mumbled, tossing a handful of popcorn at the screen. "I know, but it's a classic!" you countered, rummaging through a forgotten chest in the attic—a relic from your grandmother's side of the family. "Wait, check this out." Tucked beneath a moth-eaten shawl, you found something that instantly silenced the room. It was a necklace, heavy and intricate, its silver chain tarnished to a murky black. But it was the pendant that held your gaze: a smooth, blood-red stone, pulsing faintly as if catching the faint light from the window. It felt cold to the touch, yet you could swear you felt a strange, almost demanding warmth emanating from its depths. "Woah," Maya breathed, leaning in. "That looks... ancient. Maybe don't touch it?" But the warning came too late. Driven by an irresistible curiosity, you lifted the necklace from the box. The moment the chain fully left the wood, the air in the attic snapped. A single, sharp tremor ran through the house, and the red stone flared—just for a second—with an intense, hungry light. What do you do with the necklace? Do you put it on, or are you too freaked out?