Alarbus

Prologue

The warehouse was dank, cold and dark. But the footsteps echoed everywhere. They passed empty rooms, full rooms, quiet rooms, lit rooms and, more importantly, countless doors. All of them had to be opened to heck if any of them were the entrance to one specific empty room. They found it. Stepping inside, they saw a silhouetted figure, who's arms where by its sides and a hood covered its head.
"Your early," it said. It's position didn't waver
The owners of the footsteps stepped out into the light cast by a torch that one of them was holding. The apparent leader was black, and his hair was combed neatly along his head. A T-shirt was worn over his torso and was partially covered by a stained leather jacket. His black jeans encased his legs like a clasp and his boots clunked on the floor when he walked.
"If we are so early," he hissed "why are you expecting us?" No one could see, but they all got the feeling that a sickly grin was being produced under the wide hood of the other figure.
"You couldn't have made more noise without being louder than the sound of the earth falling apart." The black man ignored this and threatened:
"Give us the money, and you get the skull,"
A raspy chuckle from the silhouette
"No no no, other way around. How do I know you won't run away with the skull and the money?"
"The same could be said for you,"
The sense of a grin turned to a frown
"I got here early to meet you specifically. Doesn't that show trust?" The black man sneered and snapped his fingers. A skinny teenager limped up behind him and gave him a wooden box. While the teenager ran back into the darkness the black man held his hand out to the silhouette. No one saw a hand, but the black man felt the box being taken from him. The sound of the wood smashing rang through the empty room. The leader was the only one who was not as scared as everyone else
"Now, the money." There was suddenly an eerie silence.
"Or what?" This surprised the black man."
"What will you do? Shoot me?" The tension grew. "You didn't really think I wouldn't be able to taste the artillery in your jeans from this distance?" The black man's slight fear turned to anger.
"You'll be feeling it soon," he pulled out a pistol and fired twice into the darkness. Nothing happened. Until the doors slammed shut and the silhouette stepped into the light. His face still wasn't visible because of his hood. In one of his hands he held a skull. The hooded figures remark was surprising:
"Have you ever seen the film V for Vendetta? It really is a film. And I only bring it up now to say one thing." He cleared his throat "Beneath this hood there is more than flesh," he quoted "Beneath this hood there is an idea," the skull in his hand started to produce grey smoke.
"And ideas are bulletproof."