On a moonless night part two

The ballroom was enormous, gold and Ivory woven through the walls, the marble floor echoing every sound, making the enormous room seems Caviness. The mansion had an unmistakable feel of Russian royalty, a throwback to Peter the great and the Rastrelli. Power flowed through these walls, but to its master it simply echoed happier times. In the middle of the room underneath the crystal chandelier stood the master of the house, known to all, those still drawing breath at least as nightshade. He was a tall man, he stood proud, with wide shoulders, he was built for strength with skin as black as midnight. At his feet knelt two men. One tall and one short, the two men were not bound or restrained in any way, it was fear that kept them in place. The air was thick with expectation, but neither dared speak, leaving nightshade to break the silence. He spoke with an accent quite unplaceable, Argentinian mixed with the Caribbean, and every few words danced in a lilt of the old Soviet bloc.

“So, you were beaten by a woman.”

The tall man looked up unsure of what to say

“Well... we were beaten by a very skilled fighter…. well I was beaten by a very skilled fighter.”

The short man turned to his friend and stared daggers at him.

Nightshade sighed while he looked between the two men.

“Please tell me you at least put up some sort of fight. It was not a complete beat-down.”

Nightshade brought his hand up to his chin subconsciously rubbing the spot that on the tall man's face was currently sported a growing purple and green bruise.

“Injured her at least” nightshade continued “left a mark, make her think twice before messing with the likes of us again.”

“I cut her hand.”

“You cut her hand.”

Yes, sir, bad cut too, will need stitches, scar up real bad, you never forget a scar like that... or where you got it.

“Well it’s something, then what happened after you inflicted this most devastating scar, the one that will haunt her days and rip her from her peaceful nights, did you stab her again.”

“Well no sir, I no longer had the knife… she, she took it.”

“She took it.”

“Well yes sir, she was very fast, like lightning, quick as a flash.”

“And you.”

Nightshade turned to the short man who was still not willing to meet his gaze.

“Where you too defeated by the woman of lightning speed.”

The short man finally looked up, hate in his eyes. Nightshade could see how stupid he felt kneeling before his master, baying like a dog for treats, but he knew his place he was not so stupid as to forget it.

“I did not fight the lightning woman, no.”

“So how where you so thoroughly incapacitated.”

“I was tazered, by the other girl, the one that followed us into the alley.”

“I see.”

Nightshade looked at the two men as they knelt before him.

“I feel we have lost ourselves in the thrill of the fight and strayed from the more pressing concern. That being, why did this young lady, and women of lightning speed feel it necessary to jump you in the alley. This is the third time in the last few months that our people have been attached. No warning, no clues as to who was doing it, just bodies and blood, and either through skill or let's be honest here sheer dumb luck you two are the only ones to have survived. Now this is what I need of you.” Nightshade looked between the two men and continued in a whisper that could be heard clearly from any corner of the room.

“I need you to rack those oddly shaped heads of yours and remember something useful, anything, a clue, a lead, and if the stars would align a name would be perfect.”

Silence engulfed the three then the tall man spoke up.

“The girl was looking for someone, thought we might know them.”

Interest flashed behind nightshades eyes for the first time since the two men were placed at his feet,

“This is something, and why would she think that?”

“Well, because I think we do know who she was after, Kevin… the new guy.”

Nightshade smiled and turned to his assistant. The man, standing by the door, unnoticed until needed. Both men on the floor shiver slightly as he steps forward.

Nightshades assistant is an average looking man, average height, average build, an accountant's haircut and a librarian's glasses. And hollow. Empty eyes. Eyes of a man capable of anything, no second thought, no hesitation. A man you keep from battle. A man you sent to the orphanage when it needs it burning down.

Nightshade meets his gaze, steel met steel and neither blinked or looked away.

“Could you fetch Kevin for me, I think it’s time we met, face to face.”

The assistant nods and leaves without a word.

The assistant returns after a few minutes followed by a young, lanky, terrified-looking man. Kevin looked around the grand ballroom confused, as fearful eyes flickered to every face searching in pained desperation for a clue to why he had been summoned. He walked towards nightshade.

“The man of the hour” nightshade boomed “come, come join us.”

Kevin glanced longingly back at the door as he walks further into the room, wincing slightly as it swings shut behind him.

always watching nightshade he walked forward and stood beside the two men, still unsure of what to do he began to sink to his knees, a booming laugh echo forth from Nightshade

“No, there is no need to kneel, we are all friends here.”

“You just missed the most interesting story. And the most fascinating part, to you to least was well, it involved you. Not you in person but your name did come up, I won't retell it because I feel I could not do it justice. I’ll just go through the highlights.

Nightshade stepped forward, his full attention moving to the short man that kneeled before him. The man tries to bow his head out of respect and to look anywhere other than into nightshades gaze. Nightshade smoothly takes the man’s short black hair in one enormous hand and pulls, forcing him out of his reverential bow and into nightshades gaze.

“There appears to be a woman in our fair city that would very much like to talk to you. She is so intent on finding you that she even requested the help of your two colleagues here, now that is awfully sweet. But there was an interesting turn of events in the alley after her request, in an effort to collect her and bring you two lovebirds together there was a small scuffle. Then your colleagues here being thoroughly out skilled and outmatched, where left to rot in an alley in the inner city. So the reason I have asked you here is three-fold. Answer these three question and we are done here don’t and you may have to kneel after all, so I need a name, address and why she seems so determined to find you.

Kevin ran his tongue over his dry lips, out of nightshades sight he had begun to shake slightly trying to keep the panic from filling him, breathing deeply he started to think again.

A single name floated to the surface of his mind, the name caused Kevin to swear inwardly.

Nightshade looked at him, letting go of the short man’s hair his head lulled back down into a bow.

“Well boy, out with it.”

“Her name would be Sophie, she lives in a house just off the Harbour U campus…. alone.”

“Good and the last answer.”

Kevin's voice hollowed, his throat tightened and mouth ran dry.

“Do you remember Emma, the girl I brought with me on the first day? Sophie was her roommate and best friend.”

Kevin's eyes sting, but he refused to acknowledge them, not now, not here.

“I remember very few people, who come for the ‘short visit’, but I understand what you mean, such disappearances tend to have a motivating effect on certain people.”

Nightshade walked towards Kevin, cracks of anger showing through his benign expression, the calm before the storm.

“Which is why we are so emphatic about the short stays being unattached, unburdened with needless connections of friends or family, put simply, FUCKING ALONE?”

Nightshade composed himself as his voice continued to echo around him, all anger now removed from his face.

“But these things do happen, and we have protocols in place for such events. Please follow my assistant and give him whatever information he requires and the problem should be resolved in a relatively painless manner, tonight if we are lucky.”

Kevin deflated as Nightshade turned away from him; he waited for the assistance to lead him out and walked after him.

As the doors closed behind the two, Nightshade walked over to the two grand floor to ceiling windows between them sat a single block of black obsidian. It was not polished or carved, just pulled from the earth and placed before him, as out of place as a lion at a toddler's birthday party and equally as ominous. Upon the block of midnight, a box had been built into the stone. Unlocked it collapsed into the stones top. Revealing a golden handle, Nightshade took the handle and pulled it out of the stone altar. He admired the dagger in hand before turning to the two men who had watched the events unfold in front of them with growing concern.

Nightshade stands before them catching the light with the golden dagger, studying its intricate carvings he begins to speak talking to the two men before him but addressing the blade.

“There is an old poem about this blade, it sounds better in Old Norse, makes more sense too. These are just some things that English falls short on. You can get most of its meaning in Icelandic, really makes you understand why it was so sought after for so long by a certain type of man. The life thief blade. The crux of the poems was simple ‘first cut takes a life, second cut gives that life.’

Now I hold no illusion about myself, to anyone that knows the deeds I have done they would think me a monster. I don't begrudge them that. You can't survive for over two centuries like I have without casting a shadow of nightmares. I do what I do and survive thrive even.”

The colour had drained from the two men. It had started to go the moment nightshade had put his key into the altar. By the time he had made his way back to them and finished his speech, they were as white as the marble they knelt upon. There were whispers in the halls of this large house about the contents of that box. The loudest whisper was always the same, no one outside of the high council saw what it held and lived. The two men's limbs were heavy, fear kept them in place.

“Now boys this is nothing personal, but due to current events that I freely admit you were not wholly responsible for, we now have to put the brakes on certain resource gathering operations.

Now while you were not responsible for tonight's clusterfuck and you did provide some valued information, you also proved yourselves expandable to this organization. Now I like you boys, I do, but you don’t get to the grand old age of 250 by being sentimental so you know, nothing personal.

Nightshade took the blade and plunges it into the tall man's chest as he knelt. Fear turned to horror, then to incomprehension as the short man watches on helplessly. The blade pierced the tall man’s heart but no blood spilled, not a drop instead from the wound a dryness spread, slowly at first, then with sickening speed until it has engulfed the tall man's entire body. His skin turned to sand. The tall man a statue, a perfect recreation of his former self right down to the surprised expression he wore in his last seconds of life. Nightshade pulled the dagger free and he crumbled into dust. The dagger now pulsating a deep crimson. Nightshade took it in both hands and pointed it towards himself, plunging it into his own heart with a sigh of relief. His skin rippled outwardly from the wound. The dagger pulsations slowed as the colour drains until it returned to gold, nightshade pulled the dagger out of his heart the wound healing by itself, rapidly, drinking in any spilled blood.

Nightshade then turned to the short man and in a single stroke sliced his throat. Watching hungrily as his essences flowed into the dagger and he collapsed into a pile of dust beside his friend.

Nightshade took the again pulsating crimson blade and carried it over to the obsidian altar. “I think I’ll save you for later,” he said as he slid the blade back into the stone, locked the box and left the room.

The coffee shop is warm, loud, crowded and strangely enough for 3 in the morning, open.

X sits at a table with the girl from the alley, each with a cup of quickly cooling coffee in front of them.

X stares at her as she stares at her cup.



“So...,” X says

“What’s your name?”

“Sophie,” Sophie says her voice small, still not looking up.

Good, Sophie we have a start, do you work, study, you don’t strike me as the drifter type, but the best ones never do.

“I… I’m a student up at harbour U. No real job I fix computers now and again, data recovery and other stuff for extra money when I need it. Drink and watch movies when I don’t,” with this she smiled slightly and looked, up then quickly back down at the black pool in her cup.

“A student, fitting, what do you study?”

“Programming 3rd year.”

“I never could get the hang of computers. And they have gotten a little scarier in the last decade, I don’t much like the idea of the screen that watches you watch it,”

This coached a smile back to Sophie's lips “fear of the black mirror. They only watch you if you let them, which sadly a lot of people seem too willing to.” Sophie trailed off her disdain for the cyber security inept grabbing her full attention for a moment. For that moment X could see life behind her eyes, she was back on campus black coffee in hand ripping into the plebeians of the computer age with friends.

She slowly comes back to X her eyes losing the faraway look.

“What’s yours, Name I mean?”

“Oh, X.”

This gets a laugh

“Fitting, you already have a mutant’s name.”

X raises an eyebrow before Sophie can start backtracking

“I mean, I’m not saying you’re a mutant, not that there is anything wrong with that, I mean look at you, you’re beautiful.” Sophie sinks back into her chair holding her coffee close to her chest.

X smiles as the red settles across Sophie's face

“I’m not a mutant.”

“is it witchcraft?” Sophie ventures just above a whisper

“Not a witch.”

Sophie leans forward eyes as wide as saucers, keeping her voice low, X reads the words on her lips rather than hears them.

“A God.”

X booms with laughter causing two nearby tables to turn and look at them.

“That that is adorable.”

Sophie pouts and looks away from X but unable to keep herself from the conversation,

“Then what are you.”

“I…. I am a long story in tight fitting pants; let’s start with you. And the alley. What brought you to that place?”

There is a long pause between the two before Sophie speaks,

“Emma,” she says not taking her eyes from her coffee

“Emma?” X asked

“She was why I was in the alley tonight. She was my best friend, more sister than friend really, she went missing a few months ago, I thought the two in the alley might know something.

X was confused as she tried to piece together the story. But was missing too many pieces,

“So who was Kevin?” X asked remembering the name Sophie was asking after in the alley.

“He was Sophie's boyfriend or ex-boyfriend or current, it was in a pretty constant state of flux.

Sophie paused sorry I… have to get it all straight in my head first or I just come off as a crazy person.

“Just start from the beginning, it’s the easiest place to start most stories come from there.”

Emma and I had always been friends. I think she was my earliest memory, I don’t think I have any that predate her. We were close, talked about everything, they was an old joke my mother use to say, you either have a quantity of friends or quality friends and Emma was so good I only needed one.

She was the only one that could get me out of my room and talking again after my parents both… it was a car accident…”

Sophie smiled weakly as for a moment she swam through memories, some good, and some bad.

“We were always around each other but after my parents, we were bound like iron, went everywhere together. I would joke that the sun would refuse to go down and night would be kept at bay if we had not spoken that day, seems the nights have been stubbornly coming anyway the last few months.”

Sophie took a small sip of the black brew, the taste plays across her face, too bitter by half.

“Emma met Kevin about a year ago. He always seemed a bit too intense for me, but that's what Emma liked about him. He considered everything longer than a normal person would, Emma thought it made him deep, I thought him pretentious, but he made Emma happy, so I kept my mouth shut. He ran with an odd crowd, but about 6 months ago I kept seeing him with the two guys from the alley, he drifted from his usual crowded and got… stranger, nothing I could ever put my finger on he just seemed different colder maybe, I don’t know it was weird.

Then three weeks ago I walked into our apartment and nothing was different. Everything as we had left it, except a note on the kitchen bench. A spontaneous vacation, her travel bag was gone from her room and some things had been packed and taken, but Theodore was still on the bed.”

Sophie brought the coffee back to her lips but did not drink taking in its warmth rather than its contents her eyes far away, in a sadder place.

“Theodore was a stuffed silverback gorilla Emma had had since she was fifteen. Has been her constant travel companion ever since, she had a panic attack last year when we forgot him on a weekend trip. Try convincing the cops that you think your friend is missing or dead because her stuffed gorilla was left behind.”

Sophie shrank back into her chair, the hardness that had flown from her all night dissipated, leaving her raw, unprotected self. She was smaller now, scared and afraid, but there was something else as well a coldness to her growing pain. A slither of ice had found its way into her heart, threatening to turn the whole to stone. X had seen this happen too to many friends, turning the best of man into the worst as there hunted for their revenge. She had felt the process start on her in her long ago past and it broke her heart to see it happen to such innocence. X just hoped she could stop it, that she was not too late.

“You have been kind enough with your story and so I will answer one question, choose wisely” a playful smile had spread across X’s lips as she spoke quickly to Sophie across the table.

Sophie laughed the laugh of the tired, the weight of the world still firmly on her shoulders, she was exhausted and the coffee had long since stopped bringing relief.

So mysterious all of a sudden, do I have to ask my question in the form of a limerick, will you answer in the form of a riddle,

X ever smiling “is that really your question.”

Sophie jumped slightly, adrenaline doing what caffeine failed

“Oh no, you are not pulling any of that monkey paw, Genie, and the lamp bullshit with me. My question … where did you come from, I mean, what are you. No, how did you come to be?”

Are you sure, it's a bit of a long story, Tho, it does have Vikings in it.”

“Rather a story than a cryptic one-word answer that haunts me to my grave with its maddening vagary.”

“OK, here we go.”