The Long Arm of the Law

Every once in a while there are people who do things to hurt people. Shootings. Knife Attacks. All Murders.
So if Dead Weight has commited a crime...
Who is coming for him...

Tome: When the Night Falls

Chapter 1 Continued...
Dead Weight pressed his body flat against the ground as the torch swathed over his form. There were many of them, too many of them to alert.

 Crawling along the ground, quiet as possible he escaped the light of the torches. It was a dangerous way to live but it was necessary. That man was a disgrace to magic.

 Then some people would call him a disgrace to magic. Murder was not what every sorcerer used their powers for. Some used it to read minds, know what was coming before it had even come or use their ability to live.

 More than once he had seen a homeless man light a fire with his bare hands and cook something over the flames.

 Dead Weight stood and seamlessly moved behind a thick tree trunk, his hand grabbed the handle of his sword below the hilt. Ready to slash at anybody who would dare kill him.

 He moved through the shadows unhindered by the torchlight and used the trees for cover from their revealing gaze. A squirrel pattered over his feet and chewed away at a nut that it clawed in its hands, nibbling away at its shell.

 The torchlight flashed over its body and the squirrel flew across the forest floor, hidden under the fallen leaves and fur being wet by the falling rain.

 Dead Weight took a quick glance around the tree and saw one man begin to walk to where the squirrel had stood as if wary of any movement in the forest. He hurried on to the next tree, escaping being caught.

 “It’s going to be a long night…” Dead Weight told himself as he saw light pass over his toes.

 “It’s going to be a long night,” Number 47 rubbed his eyes and yawned.

 He spun his wedding ring around his middle finger, its gold tinted a little by the blue light flashed on the walls.

 He got up from his place sitting on the floor, slowly, painfully as the door opened.

 “You may come in now,” a meek, scared voice said.

 Number 47 nodded to him and opened the door wider pulled out his pistol from its holster and walked in.

 “You don’t think he’s still here?” the meek voice asked worriedly.

 “Yes, I do. That’s why I have a gun,” Number 47 looked at him then the man's gun and wrenched it from his grasp. “I might be needing this…”

 The meek voiced man shied away from the door and closed it in a weak attempt to shield himself from whatever death would be in there.

 Number 47 threw his machine gun away and holstered his pistol. Of course he didn’t think there’d be anyone there. If he had he would have sent the other guy in first…

 There were two bodies, one man had been slashed his blood was spilled all over his floor. His eyes were closed and his face pale. He did not draw any breaths…

 Another had been slammed brutally against the wall and chocked to death, his vacant eyes were open and looked straight ahead.

 “How did I know that you’d end up like this…?” Number 47 looked at Cale and knelt down to close his dead eyes.

 Beside him there was a severed pipeline and out of it leaked a gas, Number 47 took a long sniff and his eyes widened, “What have you been hiding here?”

 Number 47 put his fingers out into the gas and let it paint his fingers blue. Bringing it to his nose he could small the coppery tang of blood.

 Blue gaseous blood… it could only be: “Bio-Mechanical?” Number 47 remembered smelling this before. Or had he… alternate timelines were still murder for his mind to work out…

 Number 47 stretched. The days were so long now. Gone were the days that he could burst in with guns blazing… that was left for the particularly fearless sorcerers.

 Number 47 couldn’t be fearless, he had a family to look after… or he would do… His wife was pregnant with their first child and Number 47 was waiting for the…

 The Phone Rang and Number 47 answered it quickly, “Is it... she... here?!” he asked in a daze of happiness and shock.

 “What?” an agent asked over the mobile, a little shocked himself.

 “Oh…” Number 47’s mood toned down dramatically, “What is it?”

 The agent on the other end shock himself from his shock and answered Number 47, “There’s nobody out here. There is nothing but animals…”

 Number 47 groaned, “More sleepless nights,” he thought to himself. “Get back in here… there’s something going on here, agent… something that is perhaps a little too much even for us…” Number 47 could feel the painted blood dry on the tips of his fingers.

Dead Weight's problems are about to get a whole load worse... Stay tuned for Chapter 2 and Filius Mortis's continued struggle against Grosse Mann...

Robbie