The pendant burned.
Not the cute, i********:-worthy kind of burn that came with dramatic supernatural revelations. This was searing, flesh-melting agony that made me wonder if my necklace secretly graduated from the "Items That Want to Kill You" school of magical accessories.
"f**k!" I tore it off, watching skin come with it like the world's worst waxing session. The pendant hit the far wall with a sound that definitely wasn't covered by my supernatural insurance policy, leaving a scorch mark that probably violated several metaphysical building codes.
They come, a voice whispered, and it was definitely not Luna's usual dramatic commentary. This sounded like something that crawled out of humanity's oldest nightmares and decided to start a podcast. The Deep Ones rise again.
"Cool," I man
