Red Glass

After Chapter

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Rohain takes hold of the handle, turning but the door does not budge. Obvious it had been locked from the inside, Rohain knew how to work around such an obsticle. The rear of the house was accesseble through the side gate and less exposed, a place he could advance more discreetly. A covert tool for every lock glimmers in the leather roll spread across the rear door step. Chains screeched from the punching bag while Rohain kneeled, picking the lock as quietly and quickly as possible before he gets caught in a city that hangs criminals outside the walls to rot. Heavy armour, equipment and weapons possess no fear of what danger its noise and rattle invites when preparing an attack, silver plating has no fear of how it reflects light like a beacon but they are not made of flesh and blood. Rohain works the lock like a puzzle to the last binding clicks and opens the escape from a city of eyes.

Emptyness of a once family home reflects in the faceplate of Rohains silver armour. Barely a beam of light peaks through the wooden blinds, afraid to be seen where it does not belong. Stepping from the familiar blue sun into unciternty his silhouette is swallowed by frozen darkness. Sweeping each room corner to corner, the house seems as empty as it is silent beneath the winds that howl through. The halls end leads between a closed door and steps that ascend to the upper floors. Each pace through the house is a roll of dice, testing fate across a floor that can announce his position with every move.

The door opens to stone steps, descending to the darkest depths of the house where anything could sleep undisturbed away from the light and sounds of the city. Cautious manevours echo like whispers, warning to turn back as his narrow vision forces him to focus forward. Impossible to see, Rohain lights a match to see vague edges of training weights, exoctic suitcases and flame reflection in oil lamp glasses. Moving stealthily back up the steps, he climbs the stairs with his crossbow cocked and shouldered, holding his white breath to remain undetected as the cold intensifies. Entering the open bedroom door, two golden eyes burn fiercely through the black.

"You do not belong here." The sitting shadow warns.

"Nor you." Rohain stabs.

"This is my house,.. but no... I do not." Faris says, lowering his gaze in thought.
"You should leave."

"I knew it was you. You chose your targets carefully, only feeding on the wicked and cruel knowing society would not miss them. My question is simple: why Daniella? Why her!?"
Rohain questions with his crossbow still shouldered and sighted.

"I heard what happened,.. I had no idea. It was never my intention to cause suffering.
...

No. I never killed her, but I wish I did. I just..."

"You have no idea what Daniella had been through!.. she was just a kid, barely old enough to marry!"

"I know. She was just a little older than... I cannot allow you to kill me. I am a killer, a monster, but I need to cure myself. No child should lose both their parents."

Rohain slightly lowers his weapon. "There is no cure. You are cursed beings."

"The King, he offered to turn me so I could avenge Tamara. He asked in exchange I would translate the blood scrolls to find the cure. I intended to cure myself once I tore the lycans apart, those who took her.

I should let it go, she would want me too but I cannot."

"Then, why all the killing?"

Faris hides his tears behind his hand.
"She was everything to me. She needed me and I was not there. I wasn't there! She's dead and nothing I can do can change that! I will make them dissapear just like they did her.
Those who hunt the weak will know how it feels to be the prey. I just wanted power to right the wrongs that surround me. I never knew blood would not satiate the call, rather, it fueled it. The call for blood consumes me against all that I am. I've... I've not even got to say goodbye to her body.