I believe I've said this before, but I'm at my best when writing serious stories. Well, here is a little bit of proof.
The Capture
Prologue
The slick razor slid over the delicate skin, drops of crimson oozing out of the freshly cut wound. The man smirked at the liquid, his violet eyes blazing with an emotion that was nearly impossible to identify. The wounded could not breathe as she looked deep into the daring orbs, to afraid to make the littlest sound. The man was everywhere, anytime, place, or weather. He mushed people's brains with his incredibly fascinating, yet dangerous mind games, and was infamous for his illusions and trickery. All of Germany, England, France, Spain, and Prussia knew him, and no one knew where he came from. They just know that his first strike was at Place de Greve, Paris. There, he supposedly captured a noble in broad daylight, slit his throat, and left without a trace. The wounded knew this, and she was not taking her chances.
"What lovely skin, my dear." Said man exclaimed, caressing the other uninjured cheek. His voice was laced with a thick, dominant accent, obviously German. His white teeth shown brightly in the moonlight as he smiled wickedly, and the madam was not sure whether or not she should be attracted by his beautiful features or disgusted by his very presence. "It's a shame really, you make me want to regret doing this."
Without another word from either party, a knife struck the poor woman directly through the forehead. Her body fell limp, and her breathing was permanently paused. She was dead.
The man who killed the young duchess was none other than The Living Shadow. The reason for this was for the very reason know one knew what he looked like, and that his only distinctive feature was his eyes, equally sharp to the blade he once carried. His violet, unreadable eyes. His body remained invisible, only coming off as a black blob that flew across the very floor as he passed to his next murder. No one knew his name, and no one heard him utter a word and live to tell. Not even a little sound. No one, whatsoever, could catch the beast, either, as they all ended up dead when trying.
He brought fear into even the King, who has had put his army in a large, unbroken wall around his castle to prevent the devil passing onto grounds. All feared him, and he feared no one.
He left the dark bedroom, leaving the corpse on the desk as he rushed out the window, his cape flying in the wind, then disappearing from vision.
Yes, he was the very person who could surpass god, for he has yet to receive his punishment. And everyone, though it was unspoken, believed it.