Before

Silas’s eyes snapped open just as the brazen alarm went off next to his head on the night stand. It was still dark, half past four in the morning by the clock, and cold. Whacking the dated alarm clock, he propped himself up on an elbow and kicked the old radiator next to the rickety bed. When it started back up with a reluctant screech, Silas sat up on the edge of the bed and ran both hands through his disheveled hair, trying to shake the sleep off. As the fringes fell back into his eyes, he pulled the grimy drapes apart to observe the street below; a fresh unbroken plane of white powder was all he saw. The snow was coming down steadily past the window, which was no surprise.

He looked up through the dirty glass into the swirling purple storm clouds descending like a shroud falling over the world. The lights from the Russian capitol were like a wildfire in the dark, fighting the falling shadows with a perpetual orange shield to a standstill that has endured since the dawn of man. The weather was turning for the worse and that sent a thrill through Silas as he watched the snowflakes drift through the halo of light from the streetlamps outside his window.

It will end today, he thought with a sigh of relief. All the incessant waiting for this day would end with this storm. This opportune arrival of nature’s fury would be the perfect means to fulfill his purpose and grant him the chance to go home at last.

He looked back at the clock; he had a little more than two hours before he had to be at his position. He got up and strode to the bathroom. He threw back the curtain and ran the hot water, which elicited a low moan from the ancient piping behind the cracked tiles. Knowing that it would take a while to heat up, he went back the room and pulled out a weathered equipment bag from underneath the bed. He unzipped one of the small compartments and pulled out a small stack of forms.

As he sifted through the papers with a practiced eye, the name of the person he was supposed to be was just an absent detail that faded from him into a vast sea filled with the lost identities of men who never existed. The ruses were getting harder to hide behind; hiding was not in his nature. He would much rather accomplish this as himself. Fear would be a much more useful deterrent than anonymity this time. He folded the papers in half and stuffed them in the front pocket of his long coat that lay over the foot of the bed before heading back to the bathroom. Steam poured out from the shabby bathroom as he pushed the door open.

The water was scalding against his skin but the pain was no more than a minor inconvenience. His body moved without much direction as his thoughts began to quiet until there was only cold silence. He was already drifting through that familiar darkness as the full weight of its influence crashed through his defenses like a violent tempest. He didn’t know why he tried to fight the darker side of him anymore; it had become a part of him as much as his own beating heart.

Embracing the dark within him had become essential to the survival of his sanity. He could never allow his heart to bear the full brunt of his sins, they were simply too numerous. The guilt would destroy him. But still, he feared that there would be a time where he wouldn’t be able to surface from the shadows.

Over the years the grip on his control was beginning to slip and with each transformation it was harder and harder to come back to himself. He knew that with each passing day the time of that fateful surrender drew closer, no matter how hard he fought. Apathy was his only shield against the sweet, violent urges the darkness brought and it took every ounce of his strength to resist. It was only his mastery of cold indifference that he was able to last this long.

Once finished, he stepped out of the cubicle and up to the small fogged mirror. Silas considered the gray sheen of mist before he wiped the condensation away with a long swipe to reveal the man underneath. He slicked his hair back and stared at his blurry twin, the arrival of the coldness painting his eyes a deep hue of midnight black that was visible even through the distortion. With quick, darting movements he scrutinized his pale, haggard reflection. No amount of rest could take away the purple shadows ringing his eyes; they were the ever constant reminders of the sleepless nights he would never get back.

Water dripped from his nose as his sodden fringes descended over his eyes, partially hiding them in darkness. No one would ever suspect what he was, not just from a passing glance. But if they stared hard enough, they would be able to see that he was not just a man. He was a predator, a hunter of the fiercest sort; those dark eyes staring back at him told him so. He stared at his reflection for the longest time, wishing that a passing glance went more than just skin deep.

Silas was just about to look away when something in his eyes caught his attention. Before he could focus in on it however, a thunderous jolt of pain seared through his body. Gasping aloud at the sudden ferocity, Silas clutched at the sides of his head as he reeled in agony. His vision pulsated with sick reddish shadows as the bathroom flickered before his eyes. Just when he was sure the pain would render him senseless, the unexpected onslaught vanished as quickly as it had come. Leaning heavily against the sink basin, Silas pulled himself up right.

His heavy breathing paused as he swallowed past the hard lump in his throat. He wearily wiped his hand across his mouth and was surprised to see a bright streak of red across the back of his hand. Silas looked up into the mirror and sure enough a thin trickle of blood had made its way down to his chin from his nose. He turned the tap on and splashed his face a few times, trying to wash away the disorientation the pain left behind. He looked back up into his eyes only to see nothing of what had caught his attention before. There was nothing out of the ordinary now; he must have imagined that peculiar blue flash.

Though he was still shaken, he pushed away from the sink to dress. The clothes he donned were simple; a thick, black long sleeved shirt over a pair of black tactical pants. He laced up his heavy boots before belting a single gun holster around his waist. He positioned it to where it would rest at the small of his back, hidden from prying eyes yet still easily accessible. He pulled a silver pistol from his bag and systematically examined the weapon before checking the clip. He slid the clip back in with a soft click before stowing it behind his back.

When Silas reached into the bag for his second weapon, his hand brushed against soft leather. He hesitated a moment before pulling the scabbard from the black folds. He slowly wrapped his fingers around the grip, savoring the way the worn leather conformed to his touch. His eyes slid close as he felt his other senses sharpen; the same way they always did before he released the elegant blade from its leather prison.

The ring of the blade parting with the leather sheath sent a shiver down his spine, awakening the lethal skills he had honed over his career. Skills that came with a hefty price, a price he was still paying. Deep, primal whispers washed over his mind, whispers leading him deeper into the darkness. A powerful lust for battle stirred within him as he opened his eyes to stare at the shining blade. Not just for the fight but for the blood of the kill, to feel the life leave the flesh as his blade tasted the sap from its veins.

This is what the darkness wanted of him, to vanquish life with the bloody splendor of a desperate struggle, to take a life through violence that only he could achieve through this weapon. Today he would sate the bloodlust that tormented him, but not with this. He wouldn’t need it, though he desperately wanted it. It took everything he had to not belt the sheath to his side. He rammed the sword home and put it back in the bag, trying to ignore the powerful urge to pick it back up.

After securing the knife he was originally searching for to his belt, Silas threw his coat on in one fluid movement, the supple folds of leather swaying to a stop mid-shin. He zipped the bag up and slung it over his shoulder before leaving the shabby room behind. He walked past the shadowy room doors, silence his only companion as he quickly rounded the corner to the narrow staircase.

The frigid air was like an icy dagger slipping down his throat as he stepped out into quiet morning. The dark of the impeding storm snuffed out the morning light, extending the night long after it should have faded away. The low moan of the wind and crunching snow beneath his feet were the only sounds that pierced the eerie quiet. He knew this was only the calm before the violence of the storm broke against the city. The clearness of the air around would soon give way to howling white-out conditions and this calm would only be a passing memory.

The wind started to pick up as he hit the street, the snow on the ground was beginning to join with the snow drifting from the sky. His car was parked in the large parking garage across the street, flanked by a large historic cathedral on one side and a towering office building on the other. Silas idly thought how the cathedral ironically cast a sinister silhouette in the darkness as his gaze slid over it. He shifted the equipment bag to his other shoulder and then started to make his way across the empty street, his long black coat billowing out behind him like a flowing wraith.

But Silas slowed as the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he immediately  knew it wasn’t from the cold. He came to stop in the middle of the snow covered lane and looked around. He could detect not a hint of life as his eyes roved over the dark building fronts; he seemed alone. But he knew he wasn’t, there was something watching him from the shadows. He froze as his eyes came to a stop over the cathedral once more. There was something about that building; something that sent cold shivers down his arms as his steaming breath wafted around him before being taken by the wind.

Upon first glance, he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary about it, save for that eerie magnetic pull he felt. But then he saw it, or began to see it. The wind whipped snow across his face and his long fringes stung his eyes, but there was no mistaking it. Near the head of the wide staircase, a patch of shadows began to lighten into the faded shape of a slender being, featureless in the persistent night. Though it had no face to speak of, he knew without a doubt it had zeroed in on him. His muscles locked up and his mind grew fuzzy as he involuntarily stared back as though hypnotized. Soon all of his training and skill was washed way in that wicked, eyeless gaze and he was nothing more than a scared child shaking in the middle of a cold, deserted street.

The faceless shadow stared him down for could have only been a few moments but those few moments felt like long, achingly slow hours to Silas. As he gazed at the shadow it faded into the black embrace of the dark cathedral. He stared at the empty space for several seconds, trying in vain to convince himself that what he had seen was only a trick of the darkness and nothing more. Slowly he began to resume walking towards the garage, his eyes never straying from the dark steps. The shadows stirred no more as they soon disappeared from his gaze.

With shaking fingers, Silas pulled his keys from his coat pocket, shooting glances over his shoulder the entire time. He could still feel those eyes on him but the garage was pointedly empty. Somehow the garage being so empty put Silas more on edge, more so than if there was something actually there. The silence made it feel as if the very air around him was watching him with an apathetic deadness that was still sending shivers down his spine.

Finally he was able to unlock the door and slip inside vehicle, slamming the door resoundingly behind him. The engine roared to life and Silas put his bag bag in the seat next to him. He let out deep breath as he put the SUV in gear. Glancing out the window once at the shadowy garage, the eerie feeling spiked again, though there was still nothing out there. He spared the garage another brief once around before casting the fear from him; there was no place for it. His finely woven cloak of indifference spun a web over him, emptying his mind of everything except for his target.

There was still a job to be done and he meant to see it through.