Chapter 15 – The Beast Awakens
Chapter 15 – The Beast Awakens
(Silas' POV – Gotham's Forgotten Alleyway)
The darkness inside me finally settled, but the rage had not faded. It coiled deep in my chest, waiting to be unleashed. The suffocating aura I had released earlier began to dissipate, the cracks in reality slowly mending. But the damage was done. Gotham had felt my wrath, and soon, it would feel my vengeance.
I knelt beside Emma's still form, brushing a strand of hair away from her bruised face. My fingers trembled as I clenched them into a fist.
Her warmth was gone.
I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly. No, this wasn't the end—not for her. I would not allow it.
My shadow stretched beneath her, deep and endless.
A void of absolute darkness spread like ink, swallowing her fragile body as if the earth itself had consumed her. In mere seconds, she was gone—safely stored within my shadow pocket dimension, a place where time did not exist. There, she would remain untouched, neither decaying nor aging.
I would find a way to bring her back. No matter what it took.
I rose to my feet, turning my attention to the alleyway around me. The stench of blood, piss, and rot filled my nostrils. The city was a festering wound, and tonight, I would carve out its infection.
My crimson-red eyes, the Eye of Chaos, burned with power. I activated its hidden sight, peeling back the layers of reality to gaze into the unseen.
Ghosts.
Five of them.
They lingered in the alley, twisted remnants of the lives they once had. They were thugs—murderers, thieves, scum who had met their end in this very place. Their hollow eyes flickered with recognition as they saw me looking straight at them.
A sick grin spread across my face.
"Which one of you is ready to talk?"
Silence.
One of them, a lanky man with sunken eyes and a slit throat, scoffed. "Hah. What's a fleshbag like you gonna do? We're already dead, kid."
The others chuckled.
I didn't.
Faster than they could react, my hand shot forward, grabbing the ghost by the throat.
His eyes widened in terror.
"W-what the fu—?!"
He thrashed wildly, spectral energy crackling as he tried to phase through me. But my grip was unbreakable. I squeezed. His form flickered, distorting like static.
"You think I can't hurt you?" I whispered, voice laced with venom. "You think death means you're safe?"
A pulse of black lightning surged through my hand.
The ghost screamed as his very essence crackled under the force of my magic. The other spirits recoiled in horror.
This was impossible. No human should be able to touch them.
I tightened my grip, my rage bleeding into my aura, filling the alleyway with an unbearable weight.
"Who did this?" I asked again, voice like a blade against their souls.
The ghost convulsed, eyes rolling back in terror. But he was too far gone to speak. Too broken to answer.
I let go.
And then—I snapped my fingers.
A wave of pure annihilation magic erupted through him, disintegrating his very soul into nothingness.
The other ghosts screamed.
They turned to flee, phasing toward the walls.
They never made it.
Black tentacles surged from my shadow, latching onto their forms. They twisted around their limbs, their throats, their very essence, dragging them back into my grasp.
"Please! Have mercy!" one of them cried.
"We—We didn't do anything! We just watched!"
I ignored their pathetic pleading.
"Then be useful. Tell me who did this."
One of the ghosts, a scarred man with hollow eyes, trembled violently before finally stammering out the truth.
"It was six of them. All men. They carried the mark of the Eye—the symbol of Gotham's Italian Mafia!"
The Italian Mafia…
I pulled him closer.
My mind magic dug into his memories like fangs sinking into flesh. Images flooded my mind—distorted, broken fragments of that night. I saw their faces.
And I committed them to memory.
With a flick of my wrist, I conjured six floating images into existence—six faces of six dead men walking.
My fingers snapped again, releasing the ghosts.
They didn't hesitate. The moment their bindings vanished, they fled, phasing through the alley walls, desperate to escape the monster in front of them.
I sighed.
Then, pulling out my phone, I dialed a number.
---
(Henry's POV – Gotham's Penthouse Suite)
The penthouse suite was bathed in dim red light. Expensive furniture, lavish décor, a gothic aesthetic befitting a king of the night.
On a black leather couch, I sat in nothing but a silk bathrobe, swirling a glass of crimson liquid—blood, fresh and rich.
At my feet, a pale woman in a red dress lay motionless, drained of life.
I smiled, taking another slow sip, savoring the lingering warmth of the hunt.
Then my phone rang.
I frowned. No one called me at this hour.
I picked up, my sharp, vampiric eyes narrowing as I glanced at the screen.
A name flashed across it.
Silas.
For the first time in a long while, a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine.
I pressed the call button.
"Oh, Sir Silas. What a rare pleasure. To what do I owe the honor?"
"Cut the crap, Henry. What do you know about the Italian Mafia?"
I smirked, swirling my drink. Direct as always.
"Ah, the Italians. A messy bunch, but influential. What crime did they commit to incur your wrath?"
"Not your concern. I need all the information you have on these men."
The line went silent.
Then, a notification.
A message with six photos.
I opened them, scanning each face.
Five were unfamiliar. But the sixth—
My smile vanished.
Dante Ombra.
A high-ranking underboss in the Mafia. Ruthless, connected, untouchable.
I immediately called my informant, securing every detail I could. Within minutes, I had everything: addresses, business fronts, hideouts, weaknesses.
I sent it all to Silas.
Then I called him back.
"Silas… a word of caution. These men are connected. They have powerful allies. If you move against them, Gotham itself may turn on you. I can assist—"
The line cut off.
I crushed my phone in my grip, irritation flashing through me.
I downed the rest of my blood, licking my lips as I gazed out the towering glass window, watching over Gotham like a god overlooking his kingdom.
A storm was coming.
And Gotham wasn't ready for it.
---
(Silas' POV – The Hunt Begins)
I pocketed my phone, my mind already set.
I looked up at the night sky, the city stretching endlessly before me.
Raven-black wings burst from my back, spreading wide as shadowy feathers dissolved into the wind. The air around me crackled with dark energy.
I crouched—
And then, I launched myself into the sky.
Tonight, I hunt.
Because they had awakened a sleeping beast—
And I would not stop until my hunger was satisfied.
---
(Batman's POV – Gotham's Skyline)
Perched atop a gargoyle, Batman observed the city.
Then his communicator buzzed.
"Sir," Alfred's voice crackled through. "A powerful energy spike was detected in Gotham's Blackthorn Alley."
Batman narrowed his eyes.
"I'm on it."
He leapt from the rooftop, spreading his cape.
And as he glided into the darkness, he had only one thought—
What kind of monster had just awakened in Gotham?
---
To Be Continued...
(A/N: Man, a storm is coming and this time we would see some of Silas's true capabilities. He was a member of the main party of the antagonist of Sebastians noval. So. He is op. Lets see if batman survives or not.)