It dug into his skin, and he could feel the fresh trails of blood seeping down his leg. He bit his lip and winced. It shouldn't be hurting this much, but he had tightened the cilice a little more than usual.
Silas swallowed, the pain beginning to blur at the edge of his vision. However he continued his rosaries, murmuring quietly as he moved the polished wooden beads through his hands.
It was three years ago today that Araginrosa had died. Though the betrayal at the hands of the Teacher stung, it was the dying face of the man he had called father that haunted him. That and the faces of all he had killed…
What had allowed him to survive the gunshot wounds, he hadn't known. One moment he had been dying, the next he had awoke in a prison hospital, chained to his bed and bandaged up.
For two years he had served out his imprisonment in silence, eventually his good behavior allowing his release. In that time, he had gone back to scriptures and truly understanding the Word. He had decided that he would turn away from his old ways… the ways of murdering and death. He was more content to simply exist and to continue in this world until…
It didn't really explain how he had ended up in Roslyn Chapel. The Bishop had mentioned it a few times, he was sure. Supposedly… the Magdalene was buried here. At least, that was what the clues had said.
"Excuse me? Sir? We're going to be closing in a few minutes."
He nodded. "Un petil, madam." He was going to have to steel himself to stand up as the blood loss was a little more than usual.
There was a pause, and then an intake of breath. Footsteps. He turned his head to see who it was.
Sophie Neveu, the granddaughter of his last victim, started at him, eyes wide with fury and confusion. "What the hell are you doing here?!"
Silas swallowed. "Mademoiselle Neveu."
"Get out! Get out or I'll call the police." She went for the phone in her pocket.
"Mademoiselle. I am not going for a weapon, nor am I trying to harm you." He winced as he shifted in the pew, the cilice digging into his thigh. "I am merely sitting here, praying my rosaries." He blinked hard. Why was he so dizzy?
"How the hell did you… you were shot. I heard. You were dying." Sophie's hand remained poised over her pocket, eyes still hard.
"I do not know either." She was beginning to shift in and out of focus. Dammit, what was wrong with him?
He moved to stand up and felt what little blood he had to have had left rush to his head. With a groan, he slumped onto the pew, head spinning and ears ringing.
"Silas! Silas!"