A fierce battle

In the eerie stillness of the night, a mysterious figure, draped in a long overcoat, entered a shabby house in a deserted locality. Moonlight seeped through the grime-coated windows, barely illuminating the interior. 

He shrugged off the heavy overcoat, its worn fabric whispering against the threadbare sofa as he slumped down. But his moment of rest was shattered. A dark shape, stark against the window's pale luminescence, startled him. There was a shadowy figure seated on a chair by the window.

He immediately pulled out his gun and pointed at the figure. 

"Reveal yourself," he bellowed, his voice a harsh echo in the dead silence. "Or I swear I'll shoot!"

"Easy, Patrick," came a measured voice. "I am not here to hurt you. I am here to do business with you." 

"I don't deal with strangers. Now get out before you regret it," Patrick snarled, finger tightening on the trigger.