The door was locked, of course, preventing Marcus from opening it however much he tried. Its thick wooden frame was heavy and strong, and there was no keyhole on the inside; it had been locked from outside and would take effort to break through.
A single Messenger emerged from the floor in front of it, leaning its tiny body against the woodwork and hitting weakly, soundlessly and desperately with its little fists. It let out a small, pathetic whimper.