Silence Read Free Page B

more, and every encounter
with danger seemed more surreal. He could see Death looking at him
with its inevitable, welcoming smile. He’d quickly learned to smile
back. He’d learned to love what he hated, distrust even himself,
and view murder as a gift rather than a crime. Sheikoh had accepted
the unacceptable and he looked back at the rest of the world
through the veil of dark enlightenment.
    And, paradoxically, it made living
worth so much more. The stark contrast of two infinite entities
weaved together was both heartrendingly beautiful, as well as
utterly alienating. Each of his breaths was the first gasping cry
of a newborn. He learned to welcome the cold trickle of fear;
inherent in dread’s discomfort was the promise of relief. And
without fear, there was no such thing as trust, just like without
hate, love could never come to be. Shadows were the medium that
added clarity and depth to formless, white light.
    Sheikoh thought through it all as he
pushed open the wooden door to his serene, little paradise. He sat
against the plank wall and stared at the roses and vermilions
blooming around his boots. A sparrowhawk flitted on the branches of
a tree by the light of the full moon. His eyes traced the green ivy
creeping towards the black sky open above with sudden approval.
Sheikoh stared up at the stars for a moment and then closed his
eyes and lifted his face to the night’s cool air. He slowly
breathed it in.
    His head swirled around in
a maelstrom of numb shock. He didn’t understand how he’d survived
every single impossible moment of his short life, yet it happened
so consistently he no longer questioned it. He felt dark and
terrible and, above all, powerful . He had proven himself to
all of Interium. As he gazed up at the midnight sky, he shuddered.
Violence pulsated at the edge of everything he knew about himself.
Sheikoh reveled in the simple action of breathing the air as a
killer rather than a child.
    He knew his mask went far deeper than
the skin of his face. Sheikoh and Silence were one and the same.
Light can’t exist without shadow. There was no use lying to himself
about who he was anymore. His blood was alive and he was Silence.
He finally accepted it.
    He was the shadow under every bed, the
ominous, protracted pause of a phone call before rending
disconnection, the executioner of all the words ever choked off in
fear. He was a part of the sporadic criminal elite now. He resolved
to try and learn the pleasure of bloodlust. He’d already seen it in
so many other pairs of eyes, what was stopping him? It would make
his life a lot easier if he enjoyed spilling blood. He was good at
it. Maybe someday he’d find that missing piece, the one that’d make
it all worth the pain. He could be free, but only as a killer. He
could finally walk through the streets unchained, living the life
of lies and blood. As Silence he could have anything he’d ever
wanted.
    “ Your
name is Sheikoh …” whispered his mind, cutting off his thoughts.
    A vein of shock pierced his
chest.
    That voice…
    Emili?
    His body shook despite the summer’s
warmth. It’d been so long since he’d heard her voice. It was both
familiar and as impossibly distant as the gulf between oceans,
swirling with frustrated waves.
    Thoughts of dark potential and that
wild, skewed happiness dissolved. Sheikoh’s fading smile twisted
into an introspective frown. His forehead crinkled thoughtfully. He
felt as though he’d somehow been preserved within time. Like he’d
fallen asleep for a thousand years and then woken up to the ruins
of everything he’d ever known.
    “ Emili…” Sheikoh whispered
softly. “I’m not sure I can remember who I am anymore…”
    Lances of bittersweet memory scored
his chest, and he cried out. He wasn’t ready for the reminders of
trust and hope. He’d spent so long denying their touch. So many
nights. Scabs came open in places that felt long-dead.
    Sheikoh had never felt as terrified he
did at this moment.
    He