Shroud: Prologue

Fascinated horror streaked through him as two serpents rose from his shoulders. They were pitch black, with yellow glowing lines streaking their sides and eyes glowing burgundy red. They shone with malevolent intent which turned into malice as they bared their fangs, each one over two inches long: shiny, white, and razor sharp.

Jack lowered his gun as every thought and feeling within screamed at him to run. The gunfire once again died around him as the mens' ammo ran out. Their cries of fear and panic were audible as they attempted another quick reload. All of a sudden a spiked tentacle shot out and impaled the sargeant in the stomach, lifting him high in the air.

Terror streaked the men's faces as they saw their leader whipped into the wall, crunching bones following the impact and blood streaking as he slid down. A second later half a dozen tentacles shot out and started grabbing the men, slamming them into the light fixtures and walls.

One unfortunate man was impaled on the chandelier that was bolted to the ceiling, blood raining down as he desperately grabbed at the spike protruding from his gut. All around the detective men were killed, the remaining men being stabbed by the wickedly spiked tendrils and then thrown about the room.

Jack just stared in horror as the anguished screams of his men subsided, leaving only a graveyard silence. The nightmare figure slowly approached, the thudding of combat boots echoing in the room. Jack sank to his knees and looked up to stare at eyes that were once pale blue now glowing yellow.

A deep voice accompanied by the rasp of two other voices, one that was a hoarse growl and the other a high whisper, vibrated in the air. "Jack Winston, you were given your chance to walk away without any further losses. Now you have invoked Death upon your comrades and yourself."

Jack glanced to his side where Howard laid, moaning low and clutching at his body as pieces of charred skin drifted to the floor. He looked up again at the glowing yellow eyes, at the face of drifting shadows. Defiance reared in him and he spat on the monsters' boots.

The figure above him merely chuckled and wiped the boot on a dead SWAT officer. "You are mine Jack Winston. Another soul to harvest. I am no mere hitman or assassin. Money holds no value or importance to me. I operate under a different set of motives."

Jack shivered at the eery unison of voices before managing to hoarsely say, "And what motives are those demon? What are you? What pit of hell were you spawn from?"

Another chuckle emanated above him before the chorus of voices answered. "Hell? My friend I am no demon nor am I the Devil. No, I am something worse. I have gone by many names and titles throughout the ages, each meaning the same thing: Death. I am the Grim Reaper, the Horsemen of The Apocalypse, Death, and Anubis. You may call me Thanatos."

*******

"Your partner, Howard Eriksson, doesn't have long and neither do you." There was a pause followed by a series of sniffs.

Growls emanated deep from the throats of the two serpents at his shoulders. "Hmm....your partners' life will be spared. He has other roles to play in the events to come, and the Fates aren't kind to those who meddle in their plans. You however, shall join me. Will you come peacefully?"

Jack glared up at Thanatos and gave a mirthless laugh. "You say you are Death? Anubis? A god? Then why did you kill all these innocent people? Why are you an assassin? None of this is making sense, I'd say you were psychotic but those things attached to your back are making that difficult."

Thanatos chuckled while a tendril slid softly across Jacks' face. "Simple, they were supposed to die. I only kill those who have been sentenced to Death. Everyone plays a part, and where I am involved there is only one outcome. Where Death goes what do you think follows? Nevertheless they do not matter. Everyone must follow down the River Styx, whether it's sooner or later. The people that I've killed and you've been keeping track of were meant to die. Their souls will serve a higher purpose. You, Jack Winston, will also play a role in that purpose ."

Jack flinched at the tentacles' touch and continued glaring at Thanatos. One of his hands was slowly inching towards his custom 1911. "Why me? Why all of this for me?"

Thanatos sighed before saying, "So many questions little one. Why you? Because your soul is important, you are special. The fates have made it so. Now enough talking, we must go."

Before he could do step forward Jack pulled the 1911 in it's concealed holster and shot him right in the head. Thanatos had a surprised look on his face and Jack shot him three more times, once more in the head and twice in the chest. Thanatos touched the bullet holes in his head before looking down to the wounds on his chest. Jack had specially made silver bullets in the cartridge.

He had a sick feeling in his stomach as he saw Thanatos pry a bullet out of his head and examine it before grinning down at him. "Silver rounds Jack? I am not a Vampire nor a Werewolf. Hmm..."

He held out a hand and one of the casing flew to it. The serpents on his shoulders growled. "Ordinem Dagon Et Novem Anguli.....very interesting. Order of Dagon, never took you for a cult member Jack. You continue to surprise me....yet you have also made it clear you must be taken with force."

Thanatos adopted his generals' pose again, with arms crossed behind his back, as his 8 tentacles stopped their slow hypnotic movement and began to lock onto the detective before him. When each razor tipped was pointed directly at him, two of them shot forward and wrapped around his arms and lifted Jack before the shadowy figure.

When they were face to face again the last image Jack had was of Thanatos's smiling visage before another tendril shot forward and ripped through his chest and spine before sprouting out of his back. The tentacle slid out of Jack and he fell limply to the floor.

Thanatos shook his head before turning his gaze onto the moaning and gasping figure on the ground beside him. Howard was still alive, but just barely. His skin was blackened, and where the charred bits fell off there was pink and blistered skin.

He would live however, Death knew that. He observed the room, with only one flickering light remaining and gunpowder smoke hazing the air. Wreckage laid all over the floor, from the broken door to the splintered remains of furniture. The SWAT officer impaled on the ceiling chandelier hanged limply, the chain creaking as it moved slowly back and forth.

Thanatos moved over to the phone and dialed 9-1-1, and when the operator answered he dropped the corded head piece and moved over to where the shadows were thickest. He dissolved into the darkness, leaving a scene of carnage behind to be discovered.