The Men of Silence

The Men of Silence: Part 2

Harper instinctively reached for his Windsong Revolver, but stopped himself before it was too late.  He wasn't in control of this situation, he could see his target who was in no position to defend himself, but knew he wasn't the only threat. There could be monsters looming behind him right now, waiting to tear his limbs off, one by one. All they needed was an excuse to attack, a command.

"Yes, I am afraid."

The old man moved very little when he spoke, but his mouth quivered into a smile.

"Good. Good. I don't get many visitors here, Mr Harper, and those who do visit don't stay long."

Harper didn't want to waste any more time. He walked towards the light, clenching his fists as the floorboards creaked. He had to stay calm and resist blowing the old man's head off.

"I'm here for a purchase."

"I'm sorry, was I talking?"

Harper was taken aback by the feeble man's sudden aggression.

"Yes sir?"

"Good, now shut up!" he hissed, "I know your employers, they have also made many visits to my humble home. But never before have they sent me an angel from hell, which is why I must ask you, what would Satan himself want with one of my monsters?"

He'd never thought of himself as an Angel from hell, and did not wish to spend time answering riddles. So he leaned over the desk, and was about to speak when he heard something behind him. A creaking floorboard, a shuffling of clothes, and an exhale of cold breath. He knew they weren't alone.

"You will answer me if you wish to gain what you seek, Harper."

He looked over his shoulder, into the blind abyss, then back into the old man's black eyes.

"I will play your games for now." He thought of an answer, "Nothing is beyond the reach of Satan, his influence spreads through the seven deadly sins, of which no man is pure."

"I never took you for a spiritual man, I did not expect you to surprise me. Congratulations. Now sit down, do you know of these sins?"

The longer Harper stayed there, the more fear threatened to take over his mind, yet he couldn't leave until his contract was fulfilled.

"Yes."

"Would you consider yourself pure?"

"No. I am proud of my work in punishing those unworthy to live, I envy the vision of my employers, I hunger for more blood in my rampages, I crave for the power my employers have and want people to flee at the mention of my name, I hide my weaker emotions behind my rage,  I desire the influence of my employers, but I can not bring myself to kill them for that."

The old man did not react.

"Is that what you want!? A confession!? Why!?"

He felt something touch his legs and he froze as giant hands clamped his shoulders and pushed him down into his chair. Fear overcame his mind, his hands trembled, his mouth dry, and his ears stung in the cold silence that filled the room.

"I thought I told you to take a seat?"