One wish

I

A man grotesquely murdered by his own relative…
A woman tortured into insanity by her closest friend…
All within a two block perimeter…

The evening was as lovely as the city air allowed. But it was not welcoming in the brisk winter nights in Harvard, as Robert Langdon soon discovered when he stepped out of the conference room. He was surprisingly caught off-guard by the gale that swept the hall. His normal Tweed jacket provided much-needed protection to his body, but his folios were another story as the fierce wind swept the papers away. He cursed himself as he chased some of the documents. This weather is unpredictable these days…After a short while; he had recovered all but one.

He looked around and found it with a young man holding. This young man had black straight hair that reached his thighs with shocking blue bangs. His slightly pale skin appeared even more pallid with the light above him and the black clothes he donned. The professor then hurried to the lad and asked, "Can I have that back?" The young man quietly handed the manuscript over then Robert hastily put it away.

Suddenly he grabbed Langdon's arm, with an unknown stronghold grip, ripped the white sleeve. Just before he could react, Langdon felt as if every drop of life had just been drained. He could faintly make out what had happened, the stranger had bitten him all the way to his veins and drops of his blood fell to the pristine floor. He felt the pulse quicken, the ephedrine rushing into his brain, the fight-or-flight instinct took hold and he chose to fight. He kicked the young man in his abdomen, knocking the attacker into the wall. The whole incident lasted a few seconds but now the young man took again an attack pose. They stared at each other's eyes, Langdon's blue with his amber hazel, both with the will to fight.

"Art thou Robert Langdon?" the young man spoke with a thick accent that Langdon could not place.

"Yes, why?" he replied, keeping his guard up. "My master said that thou would be here…" "What the hell? What are you talking about?" "My master requests thy shall help her in her inquiry. She request that thou whilst join her in a banquet." The young attacker remained stalwart as he relayed his message. "Who is this master you talk about?" Langdon asked as he covered his wound with his other hand, dropping his folios.

"Nicholaos." Said that the young man ran and disappeared into the darkness of night. Langdon stood silent and began to roughly nurse his wound, but much to his surprise it had healed quite well. As he tried to make sense of what just happened, something from his past resurfaced, a dark memory of his childhood. Nicholaos…where have I heard that name before?

A/N- Hi again! My firstRobert fic XD Will be continued because i did research for this story! Be nice and R&R