Silent Vengeance Or: Slaughtered Souls Retribution

The skill was sharpened by time and perfected by repetition.

One does not learn to take a life by will alone.

It is a practiced intent and a desire curved into endurance that allows one to make a soul depart with efficiency.

Silo patiently waited in the closet.

His body relaxed and simultaneously ready to pounce. His breath controlled and his mind ruled by clarity. It has been 45 minutes of waiting but he would not succumb to the temptation of roaming through the subject’s home. He was to wait silently and patiently until the moment arrived and he would do his bidding.

Silent and unmovable .

Controlled breathing as if in slumber.

At the 53 minute mark it occurred..

Silo heard the the door open and then moments later close. Noise filled the living room which was once silent as the night.

Then Silence.

Slowly and with careful precision Silo opened the door. He moved it far enough to get a portioned view of the living room. He paned the room seeing no one and he grew concerned, for this was a home without any rooms and an opened view Kitchen. Scanning further he saw movement on the sofa. He quickly realized that the man who he was awaiting was laying on the sofa, attempting it seemed to fall into sleep.

Silo exhaled…

Silo inhaled..

While still in the closet he unsheathed his 6 inch Balasa knife. Sharp as its masters killing skills. He slowly and methodically slid the rest of the door to the side.

If the slumbering man would only open his eyes he would become awake to the reality of his destiny.
Since he did not open his eyes, Silo with silent steps moved to within six feet of the man, picked up the mans phone from a coffee table positioned parallel from the sofa and threw it at the door from where the sleeping man entered.

The loud crash made the man jump.

He took one look at Silo and spared no time in getting up from the sofa in an attempt to grab his gun from the table.

As the man lifted himself up from the sofa and made an attempt to grab his weapon, Silo grabbed the mans exdending hand and pulled hard with determined strength. The mans shoulder twisted, throwing him off balance and in his feeble effort to struggle, gravity took maters into its own hands and cause his head to hit the coffee table.

Not a drop of blood was dripping yet.

Stunned by the head trauma and dazed by the surprise attack and disoriented due to confusion, the man no longer made an effort to move a single muscle.

Silo did not wait to see if the condition would change.

He grabbed the man by the hair and pulled hard, lifting the man into a sitting position. In a swift move his knife was pressing into the mans jugular, causing a streak of red to appear.

The moment the blood seeped out, was the moment that the man decided he wanted to live. His body twisted and contorted. He Swung his arms back. As he did so Silo with each hand pulled back on his flailing limbs and savagely pulled them out of their sockets. The man wailed like an animal but not long, for his mouth was momentarily covered and a palm struck his temple. His head snapped back and his whimpering came to a close. Silo then lifted him up by the hair once more and put his knife right back in the red stream of blood.

He waited a moment. Found a lack of resistance. He continued.

He bent down and forcefully whispered into the mans ear: “You murdered children. You murdered mothers. You took away the lives of fathers. Silo the agent of vengeance will allow you to take souls no more.. I would ask for your repentance if it held meaning any longer, but you have been inspected and have been found guilty of unforgivable sins. The Vengeance of Blood is upon you..”

One swift slice and the knife severs the mans veins bringing forth a red rain of death. The spray is uncontrollable and the body jerks and struggles, every last bit of the mans vitality fighting in an effort to stop the inevitable. Silo grabs the mans hair harder and slices the mans neck once more. Not a bit of anger in the movement. Not a bit of uncontrolled emotion in the stabbing motion.

Blood sprays.. Blood showers.. Blood is all there is.

Everything in the room is covered with blood as Silo drops the man in between the coffee table and sofa.
He breathes in and breathes out. Looks around examining the desolation.

The man no longer moves. The man continues to bleed.

His movements are clear and decisive.

He walks towards the bathroom unconcerned over the corpse. Inside he finds the black gym bag he left there, when first having entered the apartment. He takes off all of his garments and places them in a black trash bag. Naked he looks at his body and sees a bit of red. He enters shower and in less than a few minutes he has properly washed himself of all mortal residue. He proceeds to rapidly get dressed and collects any traces of the vengeance. Not for fear of forensics but due to force of his habitual habits.
He is a man that does not exist to the secular world.

Prints, DNA, and Facial Faculties are a mystery.

Yet, despite that he has his instructions.

He is precise to every instruction, as he is precise with every movement of his knife. He takes out a small bottle of the liquid he was given and pours it down the drain to destroy any trace. Seconds later he looks around and sees that everything has been collected, neatly tucked away in his bag.

Clean of blood and responsibility, he climbs out the bathroom window and heads out. Silo’s expression stoic as ever, his demeanor continuous to the end, lets out a fleeting smile as he walk down the alley.

One down..

Many more to go.

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