Wrote with the movie in mind, not the book.
Oneshot.
All these characters belong to the amazing Dan Brown.
Silas sat crossed legged in the centre of the small white room, naked, his back to the crucifix on the wall. He sighed deeply, his palms flat on the floor either side of his knees. He stared down at the wooden floorboards with his pink eyes, the pale skin of his back laden with sharp gashes and wounds. The bloody ropes lay on the stool, unmoving.
Silas breathed in deeply through his nose, closing his eyes as he tipped his head back, feeling the warm trickle of blood as it oozed out of the whip wounds. The chalice around his leg ate away at his skin that was pulled tight between the metal teeth.
His phone rang. Silas cracked an eye open at glanced at it. Sighing he picked it up off the floor.
"Silas." A strong French accent sounded down the phone into Silas' ear. Silas closed his eyes again for a moment before snapping them open.
"Teacher." Silas replied lazily in English, his French accent thick.
"Did you do as I asked?"
"Oui."
"You located the girl?" The man on the other end of the phone said, sounding astonished. Silas nodded to himself before repeating;
"Oui." Silas took a deep breath. "I found her."
"Well? Is she with you?"
"Non." Silas confirmed, fearfully. There was a hiss down the end of the phone.
"Pourquoi pas?" Teacher shouted angrily, before calming himself down. "Pourquoi pas?" He repeated, his voice calmer this time.
"She was with Monsieur Langdon, Teacher." Silas whispered. "I was unable to get to her."
"Kill Monsieur Langdon if you have to, Silas." Teacher dangerously commanded. Silas' pink eyes went wide with fear, his white eyelashes thick.
"Is that really necessary?"
"Silas! How dare you question me? You dare to question God?" Teacher chastised down the phone. "You are an angel, my dear Silas. You are the messenger of God, and we need that girl. She is vital, you know how important she is!" He desperately said to Silas, who was now gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles began to throb.
"Forgive me, Teacher." Silas said, sucking in a long drawling breath, before daring to voice; "But she is a woman, Teacher."
"A woman?" He replied blankly. "A woman is below us, Silas. She is below us as men, and you as an angel, Silas."
"Of course, Teacher."
"Now, find her and bring her to me, maintenant!"
The line went dead. Silas breathed heavily through his nose again, throwing his phone against the wall in a fit of rage. His chest took sharp gasps as he struggled to control the anger and rage pent up inside his chest.
Slowly he got up off the floor. He picked up his robe and slipped it on, placing a knife inside his robes too.
Leaving the apartment, he walked briskly down the streets, his long brown monk robe billowing in the slight breeze. He kept his white head down, the long pieces of fringe framing his face, flickering down across his eyes.
The night air was bitter, biting at his pale cheeks. He wondered where she was now, surely her and the Langdon guy had already moved?
The girl and Langdon were kipping out in a van the last time he'd seen them. It would have been so easy to just shoot Langdon while his back was turned to him, but he'd seen her. She'd been sitting crossed legged in the van, her eyes on a heavy cylinder in her hands. She had been running her fingers over the cylinder, moveable letters making words that made no sense to her.
He was mesmerised. She was beautiful, with her long chocolate hair tumbling down her face to her shoulders, her dark round eyes fixed fascinated on the cylinder in her tender bony hands. Silas had hesitated from his spot behind the tree; it would have been easy to kill Langdon, but somehow he knew the pain that would put her in and he didn't want that. And that had scared him. So he'd retreated to his apartment and chastised himself until his back was red raw and shredded.
Silas carried on down the streets, trying to force the memory back down into his mind, where it would never resurface. He wasn't entirely sure why he was trying again – he'd probably chicken out like he did the last time. But he couldn't this time – he couldn't let Teacher and God down, not again.
Silas took deep breaths as he rounded the corner and walked across the large acre of land that was the local park. The grass was damp and cold under his sandalled feet that he'd slipped on before leaving. The darkness loomed over him.
He came to an abrupt halt when he heard her voice. They were still there. Pulling his hands out of his pockets he hid behind the tree and listened intently.
"I wonder what the four letter code is." Sophie Neveu mentioned for the seventh time that night.
"As you have been for the past three hours." Langdon said, yawning.
"I do apologise." Sophie said, sighing. She replaced the cryptext inside it's box and put it in her bag.
"It's fine, wait until morning to do it. You need sleep."
"I need fresh air, this van is making me claustrophobic." Sophie said, rubbing her eyes and stepping out of the van.
"Hey hey wait." Langdon said, grabbing her arm instinctively. "Don't go too far."
"I won't, Robert." She said smiling warmly at him and extracting her arm from his grasp.
He couldn't help it, Silas scowled from behind the tree. He hated the way Langdon was so protective over her. Silas refused to make sense of these odd feelings and waited for Sophie to start walking. Langdon lay back down in the van, turning over under his blanket.
Sophie walked towards the trees, her eyes half closed, feeling the breeze whip through her hair. She crossed her arms across her chest, hugging at herself.
Silas felt a strange pang in his chest at the sight of her walking towards his hiding spot, oblivious, her eyes half closed her hair rippling slightly. She looked like an angel, however slightly distorted.
Silas took his chance and jumped out of his hiding place, tackling her. He wrapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the cries she was trying to force out of her mouth. She kicked out and screamed into his hand, panic taking over her limbs. Silas dragged her off across the path, pulling the knife out of his robes. He placed it to her waist.
"Arrêt." He whispered in her ear, her eyes widening at the sudden touch of the knife. She struggled once more for effect before falling limp under his arms and allowed him to drag her off.
Silas took her to his apartment after coaxing her inside. He had to threaten her again with the knife for her to sit down silently. Sophie threw her filthiest stares at him.
"Parlez-vous l'Anglais?" She asked him in French, her accent becoming thick.
"Yes." He replied after a while, as he paced the length of the dark room.
"What are you going to do to me?" She whispered, half fearfully. She watched the Albino monk pace, his face impassive, his hands behind his back. He looked strangely like an angel, she thought.
"I have to take you to someone." He answered, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown.
"Who?" She inquired.
"It does not matter." Silas replied. "You are Sophie Neveu, are you not? Granddaughter of Jacques Sauniere?"
Sophie bit her lip, hesitating.
"Depends who's asking." She replied strongly, lifting her chin in the air in defiance. Silas stopped pacing, a vein sticking out painfully on his temple.
"Silas, messenger of God." He replied eventually, sitting on the opposite side of the room, in front of her. He glanced at the crucifix for a brief second. Both leaning against opposite walls, they stared at each other.
"I have to take you to Teacher." Silas said, fiddling with his fingers.
"Teacher?" Sophie asked perplexed.
"Oui, he-" Silas stopped.
"Oui?" Sophie probed, hoping if she kept him talking he wouldn't hurt her.
"He's just someone I need to take you to."
"Why?"
"You are the granddaughter of Sauniere." He said, like it was obvious. He narrowed his eyes in confusion.
"So?" Sophie raised an eyebrow, feeling like she was missing the punchline.
"We need information, on..." Silas trailed off. In all honesty he didn't know entirely what information Teacher wanted. He knew she was a very important person in all this, but other than that.. "...things." He finished simply.
"Please don't hurt me." Sophie whispered, not taking her eyes off his icy cold ones. He looked at her with a hard expression.
"I'm not going to." He whispered back, barely audible in the quiet room.
They sat in silence for a moment before Silas stood up. She watched him as he began pacing again. After five minutes she glanced around the room, noticing the crucifix, a little stool with a candle and a rope slung over it and a bed that was in the far corner.
"I need you to sit in the other room." Silas said, motioning for her to stand. He held out a hand for her chivalrously, which she eyed warily before cautiously taking it delicately.
His hand was cold, she noticed as she let go and made for the door.
"Second door, and don't run away." Silas said, almost pleadingly.
"I won't." She assured, not quite sure why.
"I would lock you in but I don't have a key for that door."
"It's fine, I'm not going anywhere." She called as she sat in the windowless room. Sophie put her head in her hands. Logically she should run out of here screaming, but the voice in the back of her head kept whispering to her; He might know about what happened to your grandfather. So she stayed put and waited.
In the other room, Silas was standing naked in front of the crucifix, his robe discarded on the bed next to his bible. He kissed his fingers and whispered, making the sign of the cross across his chest;
"In nomine patris, et fillis, et spiritus sancti." He closed his eyes before kneeling down on one knee and grasping the chalice that was eating away at his skin, the wounds seeping with blood. He unhooked it from his leg with a sharp painful gasp, before switching onto his other knee. Silas wrapped the chalice on his opposite thigh, digging the teeth into his already scarred flesh, pulling it taut. Silas winced, gasping as he tightened it and let it go.
Standing up, he looked at the crucifix again and whispered;
"Je châtie mon corps." Silas picked up the rope and unravelled it. He tied the end around his hand and stood up straight, his head in the air. He whipped the rope sharply round his body, the knots at the end slamming against his back. Silas cried out, unable to stifle it, the pain in his back unbearable. The blood seeped out of the fresh wounds, sliding down his tight toned back.
Sophie had jumped at the sudden sound of a whip cracked through the air. The sound of Silas crying out made her jump even more, and she felt stupid tears of fear sting her eyes. Tiptoeing to the door, she opened it and made her way to the room Silas was in. She peered through the crack in the door.
She was instantly shocked at the sight of a naked Silas holding a whip, his back dripping with blood. Silas gripped the rope and sliced it across his back on the opposite side, crying out again, standing on his tiptoes at the pain.
Sophie let out an involuntary cry of horror. Silas froze. Slowly he turned his head to the door, catching sight of Sophie standing there, equally frozen. They stared at each other horrified. Sophie let a tear fall.
Silas turned away and faced the opposite wall, his scarred and wounded back towards her. Sophie slipped into the room and walked behind him slowly, unsure of what to do. Suddenly Silas whipped around and grabbed hold of her shoulders, the force of it knocking her to the ground, causing him to fall on top of her.
Sophie lay there horrified, staring into the eyes of the broken somewhat naked Albino, who stared down at her with an unreadable expression. He pinned her upper arms to the floor, staring her out. Trembling, Sophie stared back at him. She moved her fingertips towards his back, running them across one of the wounds.
"Don't." He whispered to her, flinching at her touch.
"Why do you do this to yourself?" She whispered breathlessly.
"I chastise my body for my sins." Silas said.
"You don't have to do that to yourself..." Sophie replied to him slowly.
Silas scrambled off her and huddled in the corner, bringing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on them. He closed his eyes, his back to her.
Sophie lay silent on the floor for a moment before hauling herself up onto her knees. Picking up his monk robe, she crawled over to him.
Sophie gingerly wrapped his cloak around him, before placing her hands on his shoulders. He flinched under her touch, lifting his head up to look at her. He opened his mouth to speak but Sophie shook her head, and before she realised what she was doing, she rested her head between his shoulder blades, her arms embracing him.
Sophie had no idea how long she sat there, on the stone cold floor, rocking Silas, her kidnapper backwards and forwards soothingly. She wasn't sure why. This man had just kidnapped her and threatened her with a knife, and when he tortures himself she comforts him.
"You are a human being." Sophie whispered to Silas. "You should not do this to yourself."
"Why are you being nice?" He asked her suddenly, his face still by his knees. Sophie thought for a moment before replying;
"I know that you would not hurt me. You should not hurt yourself either, for God. God is just a figment of people's imagination."
Silas twisted his head around and stared at her in shocked horror.
"How can you say that God is not real? God is the creator of all things, the ruler of the world, the forgiver of our sins.."
"Your God loves His people, humans are His greatest creation. Do you really think he'd want to see them hurt themselves?" Sophie argued. Silas was silent as he contemplated her words. "Exactly. God does not forgive suicide, or harm to oneself and others." She was silent for a moment before adding; "Do not do this to yourself."
"I have to, don't you see? I deserve to, I have done Him wrong. I am His messenger. God has chosen me. I am the chosen one." Silas whispered. He could feel Sophie shaking her head against his neck. He hadn't bothered to move her away from him, the close proximity of another was comforting, almost pleasurable.
"Please, please stop. God would not want you to do this!" Sophie pleaded desperately. "He has not chosen you, He's chosen no-one."
"You don't know what God would want! Are you an angel?" Silas whispered.
"No, I'm not, but I will save you, Silas. You need saving."
"Then save me." He whispered to her, his eyes fixed on the blank wall in front of him.
"I promise you I will try, Silas." Sophie promised, all thoughts of the human being in her arms being her kidnapper faded. He was a fallen angel who needed saving. Her angel. "I will try."
Pourquoi pas? = Why not?
Maintenant = Now
Arrêt = Stop
Parlez-vous l'Anglais = Do you speak English?
Je châtie mon corps = I chastise my body
In nomine patris et fillis et spiritus sancti = in the name of the father, and the son and the holy spirit. (latin)
*I have corrected the French in this, obviously I am English so French isn't my native language, nor is it my second, and it's been years since I last had a French lesson. I appreciate the reviews and the corrections. I'm still not sure whether to continue this or not, so for now it shall remain a one-shot.
It may seem that I've jumped way ahead with this "relationship" but it will develop (if I make it a novel length FF) but I personally don't believe that I have "bended" characterisation – This is simply my take on the pair, on the characters. I think Sophie's a kind, forgiving person and at this part of my story she doesn't know that Silas killed her grandfather so that's why she's so civil towards him. As for Silas, I've always seen him as struggling with the whole thinking he's God's "angel." I see him as trying to break the restraints of religion. So, this is just my take on the characters and I've wrote them to my perspective. I hope that this doesn't affect anyone's ability to read this. ;)
Thank you for the reviews so far! :-)