Short Story - Part III (a busy day)

Lucifer reached the fourth floor. As he approached the fire-door it swung open, confronting him was a twisted old man leaning heavily on a cane. Lucifer did not recognize the man, though this was unsurprising as Lucifer had little acquaintance with the faculty outside the architectural school. There was nothing particularly remarkable about the fellow but for the cane – which looked to be solid gold. Presently though, much of it was obscured by the old man’s exaggerated hunch.
Preoccupied, Lucifer endeavored to sidestep the wizened creature and was surprised to have his maneuver abruptly retarded. A steel grip held fast his wrist. Surprisingly dexterous, the gnarled fingers had seized him mid-stride.

“Do not seek it. You shall not find it a kind master. Luciferio. Expartio oustle bavaerum,” the strange ancient wheezed harshly.

A deep chill left his blood cold. It was the second time he had heard that odd phrase. Frightened and confused, he turned to face his captor – but the old man was gone. Only a stiffness in his wrist remained. The fire-door lay open.
Lucifer stumbled into the hallway and headed toward the familiar display cases, but something felt terribly wrong. A pit began growing in his stomach. As he inched closer, he struggled mightily to throw off a growing dizziness. He felt sick again – glass covered the floor. Lucifer’s eyes teared heavily – red trails smeared the corridor walls. The ceiling swooned and starbursts exploded before his eyes – a noxious smell permeated the air. And as Lucifer crashed to the floor, he lacerated his arm deeply on a jagged edge of what was now an empty broken display case – Ruloff was gone.

Lucifer awoke in a sea of red.