He had never cared for life, his own or anyone else's. Death encapsulated all the Dark Man knew, and he knew it intimately. The memories were not his, he should not have cared about Angelique and Catherine, but walking down the dim street he found that he
did
care. Their lives had been torn away from the man he had once been. Their deaths had created the Dark Man, and in doing so condemned so many others to their own demise at the hands of the merciless assassin he had become.
“I have every right to be angry,” he muttered to himself.
“Of course you do,” said a voice from in front of him.
Vain looked up. A large youth with several other young men standing behind him had appeared–a street gang–intent on mugging him. Cursing inwardly at his lapse in judgment, Vain glared mercilessly at the leader of the gang. “Boy, you’ve picked the wrong guy to try this on,” he warned.
The large youth paused, momentarily shaken by the look in the Dark Man’s eyes, and took a step back, right into the boy standing behind him. Unwilling to show fear in front of his followers, he adopted a mocking grin and sneered theatrically, “Ooh, scary.”
“I can smell your fear, boy,” whispered Vain.
* * * *
The gang waited, unsure of how to proceed. They knew the rules of this game; they had played it out many times before. The victim either ran away or fought back, they never simply stood still. This was a new development, and they were unwilling to attack without something to initiate their emotions, be it fear or anger. The man before them appeared so calm, so confident, that they began to inch back from where he stood so casually.
Tony, their leader, saw this and anger flared within him. If he didn’t muster something quickly, he’d lose everyone’s respect, and none would ever follow him again.
Scared of one old guy in his own street, he’d be too embarrassed to show his face.
Tony reached into his jacket for the revolver he’d tucked into his waistband and froze. It seemed like every muscle in his arm had suddenly cramped so tightly that his tendons were about to shred. An involuntary hiss of pain escaped his lips, and he cried out as the pressure increased. His gang members stood by, staring in horror while their leader convulsed in anguish.
“You had your chance boy,” sneered the man. “Time to pay the price.”
Tony felt tendrils of ice clawing around his heart and his chest started to tighten.
“Please!” yelled Mikey, Tony’s little brother, joining them for the first time tonight. The younger boy took a few tentative steps towards the man watching the rest of the gang flee. “Please don’t kill him mister, he wasn’t gonna hurt ya, the gun isn’t even loaded. We just need the money for momma, she’s dying. She’s got cancer.”
Tony managed to glance quickly at the man and saw his expression soften slightly. The tightening in his chest and arm abruptly stopped, and he fell limply to the ground. When he awoke, he found the man squatting in front of him, examining his chest with a concerned expression. Seeing Tony now awake he grunted, “You’ll live.”
“What did you do to me?” wheezed Tony. “It felt like you were crushing my heart.”
“I was,” said the man coldly. “Now go home. And take my advice, leave your friends, they bring out the worst in you.”
Tony tried to rise once more, but fell back to the footpath. “My legs won’t work,” he gasped.
With a curse, the man lifted him easily to his feet, whilst Mikey moved along his other side, trying valiantly to help his brother home.
* * * *
Vain didn’t know why he hadn’t killed the boy; Christ knew he deserved it. But when the little kid had run forward and everybody else fled, Vain had felt a tiny stab of pity for the two brothers. Gabriel’s speech still echoed within his mind, and he saw in that moment the truth behind the angel’s words. These boys were out in the streets trying to stay alive. They weren’t doing it for fun or thrills like some of the other boys undoubtedly were; rather they were trying to get enough money to help their sick mother.
Vain looked at the boy who he now carried. Large for his age, he still couldn’t have been over fourteen; the younger one would have been lucky to have reached eleven. Too young to know so much about the pain of life and death.
The trio finally arrived at what passed for the boys’ home–a building almost as dilapidated as Vain’s own apartment block. They climbed the crumbling staircase to the third floor, and the older boy, who Vain now knew to be Tony, fumbled in his pocket until finally producing a tarnished key, which Vain took and unlocked the door with.
The three moved inside, Vain half dragging Tony to the lounge where he crumpled feebly. The younger boy closed the door behind them and moved towards his brother.
“No Mikey, I’m okay,” said Tony softly. “Go and check on mom.”
“Okay Tony.” The younger boy moved to the only other door in the apartment and opened it, quietly stepping inside.
Vain looked back down to where Tony lay on the lounge and saw the boy had again passed out. Remembering Gabriel’s words about the potential uses of the
Glimloche
, Vain sat beside him and honed his concentration before looking into the boy’s chest using the power within him. He had never attempted this before and he was unsure how it would end. He hoped the boy’s chest didn’t explode in a bloody mess, but he couldn’t be sure.
Gradually the view he was trying to obtain came clearer, and he could almost
see
through the boy’s chest like an x-ray. Although his heart continued pumping, its rhythm seemed erratic. Blood squirted from one side of the organ, splashing the outside wall of his right lung.
Cursing, Vain honed his concentration further and, on impulse, tried to seal the minute hole that lay in the side of the boy’s heart. This required more skill than Vain had ever needed from the
Glimloche
. He failed to seal the hole on the first try, but managed to succeed on the second. Methodically he checked each of the other organs in the boy’s chest before gently sending a pulsing flow of energy into the heart, settling its erratic beat.
Vain withdrew his power from the boy and gazed down. Tony’s breathing had steadied, his color slowly returning to normal. He appeared now to be merely in a deep sleep. Vain sighed softly and stood, walking across the room to where the bedroom lay. The assassin heard sobbing coming from within the room. Quietly he crossed the small space to where the boy Mikey kneeled beside what Vain at first thought to be the corpse of a woman. Only when he noticed the scant rising of her chest did the Dark Man realize the woman still lived. Curious about his new-found healing powers, he plunged himself into the woman’s disease-ridden husk.
Immediately Vain was attacked by the cancer that dwelled within the woman. Surging his power through her body he sought out and destroyed the cancer cells wherever he found them, but just when he felt he might be winning the fight, the woman’s heart fluttered, then gave out.
NO!
he roared mentally, and sent a surging burst of dark flame through the woman’s veins and into her heart, restarting it with an abrupt jolt. Quickly he returned his attention to the cancer cells that seemed to have trebled in their ferocity, sensing they were under attack. Almost as quickly as he could destroy them, cancers appeared in other areas of her body. Once he thought the lungs were purged of disease, he sensed the cells swelling inside her lymph glands. Again and again he had to return to areas he thought were clear in order to fight off the disease.
After almost an hour, Vain finally returned to his own body–exhausted. The boys’ mother was now free of the cancer, her breathing becoming steadily deeper, her flesh less sallow. The woman’s face lost the look of torment that had wracked it and now wore an expression of great peace.
Little Mikey stared at the transformation, unable to comprehend what had just occurred. “What happened to mommy?” he asked Vain. “She looks wonderful!”
“Your mom’s okay now kid, don’t worry.”
“How did you do that? Are you an angel?”
Vain felt uncomfortable under the young boy’s gaze and glanced away. A thought occurred to him and he said quickly, “I have to go and get something. I’ll be back soon, okay?” Mikey nodded, and Vain moved swiftly from the apartment.
The assassin soon returned to the boys’ home with a large briefcase. He’d left it in a long-term storage locker in the event trouble ever arose, and he couldn’t access his own apartment.
Tony was now awake and full of questions about his mother’s recovery, but Vain waved them away. Placing the briefcase upon the table the Dark Man turned back to where Tony stood.
“This is for you and your family. Make good use of it, and look after your mom and brother. And one more thing, get away from that mob you’ve been hanging around–only a coward needs a gang for courage, okay?” Tony nodded silently, and without a word of farewell Vain turned and departed the apartment.
“Hey Tony,” called Mikey, examining the briefcase. “Who’s Guido Bucelli?”
“Why?”
“Because this has his name on it,” he said, flipping open the locks and lifting the lid....
* * * *
Vain walked from the building shaking his head, unable to believe what had just happened. Attacked by a group of hoods intent on robbing him, instead of killing them as his instincts had screamed, he’d helped two of them home, healing one, then curing their mother of inoperable cancer. To top it all off, he had given them a briefcase containing two million dollars!
Idiot!
First Priest, then Sebastian, and now Gabriel. One by one they had managed to make the Dark Man reconsider his ethics. Now he found himself at the point where he’d begun helping people in need. Looking back at his life before meeting these people, the Vain of old would never have allowed the boy to live tonight, let alone help his family and donate a small fortune in cash!
Who was he, Santa Clause? Maybe he should put on a cape and tights and fly around the city, solving crimes and saving kittens.
Stupidity!
Eventually arriving back at his own apartment, Vain hesitated at the door. He didn’t want any more words of wisdom from Gabriel to make him question his existence.
“I don’t want to be anything else,” he whispered to himself. “I am Vain, nothing else matters.” But the words did nothing to ease the anxiety roiling within his mind. He had always been so sure of himself before, what was happening to him?
Vain entered the apartment with his expression set in stone. Gabriel still sat at the table, as though he hadn’t moved. He turned to look at Vain and smiled with genuine pleasure.
“I am glad you have returned safely,” he said. “For a while there I worried you might have been mugged by some street kids.”
Whether his words were merely coincidence or some ethereal power that Gabriel possessed, Vain didn’t care. He ignored the comment and moved towards his mattress. The healing of the boy Tony and his mother had drained him more than he liked to admit, and he felt an urgent need for rest.
Just as he was falling asleep, Gabriel said, “I am very proud of what you did tonight Dark Man, and I am sorry for how I made you feel earlier.”
Vain glanced up at his companion and frowned. “Just don’t get too used to it okay. I’m not what you think I am. I’m nobody’s hero. I am simply me. Vain. And that’s all I want to be.”
“Perhaps,” whispered Gabriel. “We shall wait and see.”
Cursing quietly, Vain rolled over and drifted off into sleep.
* * * *