Newton wasn't answering his phone.
Hermann had been calling him so many times – actually, he lost count by now. What was unusual about this was that Newton never, ever missed a call, especially if it was from Hermann. So why wasn't he answering?
He found his thoughts lingering to the earlier events of the day – they did speak once today, but that was at seven in the morning. He did receive some insight on what he was planning to do, or, what he was currently doing at that moment. Continuing on his latest experiment. Like always, it had something to do with Kaiju blood and guts. He had mentioned he was doing something no one would ever think to do, and despite all the probing attempts from Hermann, he refused to tell and kept it a secret.
You'll find out when you come over!
Hermann was only coming over today, out of all days, for a simple visit. No, he wasn't going to stay for too long. If anything, he'd stay for a week, but he wouldn't remain in the city any longer than that. He had important business to attend to back at his residence.
"Thank you." Hermann carefully exited the yellow cab he luckily had enough spare change for, slamming the back door shut. He settled himself in his spot, seeing that his friend's house was just up ahead. It was quite difficult to see it clearly, due to the thick fog and light drops of rain that were beginning to patter down.
He couldn't help but smile at the sight. It brought back good feelings – the times when he would come here during the summer. Sure, it wasn't often, but being with Newton almost every single place he went to made up for it.
In less than a minute he was up at the door, bringing the hand he wasn't using for his cane up to the bell. With his index finger, he pressed it, hearing the ring echo inside the house.
The recurring thought of Newton not answering his phone popped up in his mind once again, and now he felt a pang of worry. By now, the door should've been opened. He should be, right now, being greeted with welcoming arms, and (annoyingly at times), loud and obnoxious squealing.
But he wasn't met with that.
"Newton?" Hermann called, proceeding to ring the doorbell one more time.
But he stopped, just as movement from the door caught his eye.
He frowned, noticing something off. Way off.
Hermann blinked with upmost confusion, his eyes trailing over the edge of the door.
It was cracked open.
Yellow light from inside was pouring out of it, and it was a surprise he didn't notice it beforehand.
Though why was the door open? Why wasn't it locked?
Hermann, fearing something was very wrong, decided not to wait any longer. He pushed the door open slowly, looking up at the revealing living room that was now in front of him.
It was a complete mess.
The couch that was at the corner was battered, its arm rests torn with its white fillings pulled out into different directions. Laid on top of it, with a broken bulb, was a black lamp with cut cords jutting out at its end.
Picture frames that were once hung perfectly and evenly were either tilted to their sides or thrown onto the floor, some of them shattered. Pieces of glass, shockingly large amounts of it, were littered on the tile floor, leaving a trail all the way from the kitchen.
The rest of the room was something that couldn't be described with words. It left Hermann with his mouth hanging open.
He was in immediate search for Newton.
"Newton? Newton!" Hermann called, having made sure the door was fully closed this time and further entering the house. He didn't hear any feedback at all, only prompting his fear to grow. He still had to check upstairs!
He headed into the kitchen, his mind hoping to God that he wouldn't see anything that would give him nightmares laying still on the floor. Some type of relief washed over him as he didn't see anything of the sort upon arriving there.
What he did see, however, was broken dishware all over the ground. The cabinets were all open widely, the once stored plates now in fragments. White plates and clear see-through cups were all cracked, some pieces large and others tiny.
A flash of blue stood out the most from everything else.
There was a blue ooze on the floor, which of some was leaked onto the broken dishware. It had green swirls mixed into it, with what seemed like glittering substances resting at the surface.
Hermann didn't know how to react, nor what to say. If he was able to, he'd bend down, but thanks to his limiting leg, there wasn't much he could physically do. He adjusted his glasses and averted his gaze sternly to it, observing it from where he stood. It looked very much like the blood Newton would…
Hermann's focus was immediately altered to finding him. He turned around and hurried to the next room in the hallway.
Until he stopped dead in his tracks, the adjusting of his glasses taking place again.
There were long, deep claw marks embedded into the wall in front of him.
And they didn't belong to any animal from this earth, nor does any pet Newton owns, because he doesn't.