Chapter 551 - Hunter and Prey (1/2)
It was late, and there was a heavy mist on the streets of London. The moon was hidden by a cover of clouds causing the darkness of the streets to feel almost alive. On nights like these even bold streetwalkers and those of the night did not like to stray on London's streets. Oh yes, on such night's faceless monsters liked to creep out from underneath the shadows to hunt prey.
Down a lonely street the streetlamps are unable to brighten through the fog except as to appear as a poisonous sickly thing floating mid-air. Through the heavy fog muffled footsteps can be heard as a cloaked figure makes their way through the street. The hooded figure's face cannot be seen beyond suggesting that the individual is a man.
Despite the lack of light, the hooded figure comfortably makes their way through the darkness. As if sensing its prey, the hooded figure suddenly turns right and heads down a small and narrow alley. The man emerges out into a rickety street and spots his destination at last in the distance. There gleaming crimson red is a door of a small flat squeezed between two buildings.
The hooded man briskly crosses the street and stands at the stairs of the door. Bringing his right arm up, the man knocks exactly once and waits. The crimson door soundlessly opens as a blast of chill wind hisses at him like a snake, before coiling back inside.
The darkness lying beyond the door is like the open maws of a hungry beast. Without a trace of hesitation, the hooded man steps inside and disappears into the darkness. The crimson door slams shut eagerly after him as if refusing to allow its prey to leave.
The stretch of darkness is filled with an almost raspy sensation. Its though as the very air is breathing in and out the delicious scent of its quarry. However, the very air seems to freeze as if cautious, wary of just what manner of strange creature has found its way into its grasp.
Without any warning candles burst into flame lighting the room. The candles uneasily flicker as if apprehensive about the presence found before them. The straw-like dolls pinned to the wall seem to be holding their breath as they intently observe the hooded figure before them. Even the ancient wooden masks and skulls seem to be intently peering at the wizard through hollow eyes.
The hooded man ignored the countless gazes on his person and instead glanced at the intricate spells that were drawn on the walls in white colored chalk. A sound of contempt is heard from his lips at the pathetic ritual magic. Even the dark spell matrix drawn on the floor draws a further sound of scorn from him.
”Who are you?” Asked the sitting figure that had not been there before.
The hooded figure curiously studies the sitting dark-skinned sorcerer in white-robed robes and a crimson turban. The sorcerer does a pathetic job of hiding his unease at being ignored as his long piano like hands clench tightly over the splayed cards. The cards had yet to be turned, but the sorcerer clearly knew the reading was an ominous one.
The dark-skinned sorcerer known as the Rain Man furrowed his brow. The man-colored beads across his chest almost timidly rattle as if afraid. Rising to his feet, he ignores the unexpected chill of the floor on his bare feet. His eyes slowly widen in disbelief, before filling with cold indignation.
”It's you,” the Rain Man hissed. ”Abomination.”
A low chuckle can be heard as the cowl is pushed back to reveal an orange stone mask. ”Abomination? How cruel,” the masked wizard said.
The masked wizard had a rather low harsh voice. ”I am certainly many things, but I am no abomination, but rather a visionary before my time. I have achieved that which countless wizards have dreamed through the eons and have surpassed my own master that even Death is now meaningless.”
The Rain Man's lips press tightly together, before flashing a cold smile. ”All beings are mortal even an abomination such as yourself for Death comes to all, there is no exception.”