Summary: Like the lucky little attourney he is, Apollo stumbles upon a haunting just as he arrives.
The first thing that Apollo Justice registered when his eyes opened wasn't the darkness or the odd decorations or the smell or just how woozy he felt. Rather, he was most disconcerted by the racket that seemed to be echoing from a distance. He rubbed his forehead vigourously, groaning against his upper arm. It was obvious that this was all a dream--a surreal dream brought on by depriving himself of sleep in favour of cases.
He took a few disoriented steps forward. Usually when he had dreams about loud noises, they usually involved flashbacks of that case, the one where he'd been subjected to all too much noisy rock music in one sitting. This, however, was definitely not that--it was a discordant banging and sawing, like a chorus of construction work. If it was music, it was definitely in bad taste.
The attourney stood there for a moment, just listening, until a new noise entirely caught his attention. It was odd that it prevailed over the distant sounds of construction, but this was probably because it was coming from the small closet near to him. Curious, he stumbled toward it. His hand hesitated at the knob, however, and it took a lot of mental preparation until he could summon up the courage to swing open the door.
It's just a dream, Justice. What could be behind this door that could hurt you? Trucy's probably going to wake you up for court in a few seconds...
Now self-assured, he puffed out his chest like a true lawyer would, and wrenched open the door so quickly that, in retrospect, he probably should have feared for its stability.
What he found there, though, pushed that out of his mind entirely.
An eye stared back at him: large, eerie, and probing. Apollo fell backward with a yelp, falling on his backside just as the eyeball blinked out of sight.
"What--What was that?!"