𝑾𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑬𝑫 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑺

Blood on the carpet (Prologue)

-NOT EDITED-

Silas POV:

I hate it here.

Men who think they're indestructible surround me. They think they're Gods among common men and women. They think that they're better than me, that they are stronger than me.
Because their idea of power and strength is expensive suits and a pretty woman on their arms.
They think that being the loudest man in the room makes them the strongest, the most feared.
They do not notice me as I sit in the corner, listening to their poor attempts of sounding influential.  It's quite hilarious.

They think because I do not speak ,that I am weak, that I'm scared of them.
They couldn't be more wrong.

I listen.

I watch them play this character and I find their weaknesses.

If you hit a mans ego hard enough he will crumble under your words and beg for mercy.

There is power in silence.

I sit back and observe the idiots try and impress my father with stats and plans for the future.

My father is like me, he understands that they're all weak and none of them can be trusted.

He understands that only a few of them will leave this building after today. And that I will be the last face the rest of them will see.

The power in silence is that people don't see you. You aren't a concern for them because they see you as inferior.

How naive.

My father looks at me and gives me a Curt nod.
'Shut them up' his grey eyes say.

A smirk makes its way onto my face.
I can't wait to see their facade drop when one of them dies.

Marco, on the other end of the room locks the doors and stifles a laugh.
I slide the knife out of my boot and twist it between my hands.

None of them have noticed me.

Fools, I think.
Their egos have become too large that they can't sense that one of them are about to die.

I flip the knife in my hand and aim it at the loudest of all the men.
The loudest is the weakest ,I have come to learn.

With one swift motion I throw the knife and it hits him straight in between his eyes.

The room goes quite and slowly, very slowly,the men all turn to look at me.

The fear is evident in their eyes, I see some of them start to shake. The man falls the the floor with a loud thud, blood soaks into the white carpet.

Great, dads going to be mad for that one.

I'm still seated and I have a grin plastered on my face.
Now they see me.

Now they're scared.

Of course I stay silent. I'm waiting for one of them to speak, I'm waiting for the one who dares to challenge me.

After a few seconds I spot him.
He's short ,stubby, has an uneven beard and looks to be in his late forties.

To him I am weak because I am young.

I notice him loosen his tie and sweat starts to fall from his forehead.  Eye contact makes him nervous, he's probably insecure. Cute.

His hands begin shaking and he looks away from me. I turn my wrist to look at the time.
This is taking longer than expected.
I see that my father is also getting agitated.