Disclaimer: I do not own The Da Vinci Code or Silas. They both belong to Dan Brown.
Note: Although Silas dies in the book, he survives in this fanfiction. If I stayed loyal to the book and killed him, this fanfiction wouldn't exist.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The rain dripped down his back, mingling with the sweat and blood that stained his white skin.
I am a ghost...
The bullet wound in his back was bleeding profusely, sending waves of pain up and down his spine.
Pain is good...
He threw his hands into the air, praying.
Forgive me, Lord...
He squeezed his red eyes shut, angrily wiping away the tears that streamed down his pale cheeks. They had been deceived. The teacher... He gasped in pain, clutching his chest.
Pain is good...
He slowly rose to his feet. He had to do penance for his sins. His bruised and battered skin ached for the lash of the whip. He moved swiftly towards the Opus Dei headquarters, silent as a ghost...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bishop Aringarosa breathed in the fresh air as he walked out the front door of the hospital. Physically, he had recovered, but mentally... He and Silas had been gravely deceived. The Teacher had used them. He sighed. Despite their failure in retrieving the documents and destroying them, Bishop Aringarosa had within him a newfound hope. He had recently been contacted by a man of Opus Dei, who believed he had the key to a powerful secret which would grant tremendous power to Opus Dei and the Christian Church. Although the events of the past few days were still fresh in his mind, Bishop Aringarosa had enthusiastically agreed to do all he could. In his opinion, one must never lose faith in God, even at the darkest of times. Everything the Lord did was done for a reason.
He walked briskly towards the Opus Dei headquarters. He had to find Silas. His instinct told him he would find the albino monk there.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Silas stripped off his robe and and kneeled on the floor. He said a quick prayer, eager for the purifying effects of his own agony. He reached for the heavy knotted rope lying on the floor beside him. He swung it hard over his shoulder, slashing again and again at his flesh, until fresh blood began to flow, mixing with the dried blood already caked on the white skin. After, he kneeled on the floor, head bent in prayer, praying for God's forgiveness. He stood, and walked over to where the barbed cilice lay. He tightened it around his thigh, wincing as the barbs dug into the milky skin. As he was putting on his robe, he heard a knock at the door.
"Come in," he said, turning to face the door.
Bishop Aringarosa entered, a warm smile on his face.
"Silas," he nodded at the shocked albino in front of him.
"Bishop," Silas cried, falling to his knees, "Forgive me..."
"My son," Bishop Aringarosa helped the trembling man to his feet, "You're forgiven. There is much I have to tell you."
"We've been deceived," Silas said, his red eyed downcast.
"Yes, my son," Aringarosa said, placing his hand on the side of the man's head, "But there is still hope. I have been contacted by a man of Opus Dei, a man we can trust. He speaks of a powerful secret which will bring us the power and truth we seek."
At first Silas looked skeptical, but he knew to have faith in the Lord.
"What secret..."
"A secret that will finish what we have started, Silas," the Bishop's voice trembled with anticipation, "He needs our help. We are to bring him the key."
"A key?" Silas asked, everything sounding all to familiar to him.
"She waits in England."
Silas' eyes darted up to Bishop Aringarosa's face, 'She?"
"Yes," he answered, "The key is a woman."
Silas looked doubtful, "A woman?"
'Do not doubt, my son," Aringarosa said, "The Lord has his reason's."
Silas nodded.
"Good," the Bishop said, "Now, come. You must bring me the girl. We must leave."
Silas followed him without a word. Perhaps all was not lost...