Annabel: Hello! This is my first fic, don't insult it too badly. My writing tends to go all deep and dramatic, expect no romance but do expect sorta clichéd sappy-ish stuff. And, like all you guys, I don't claim the Da Vinci code as my own; I do not own Silas or any of the other cast. However, I will be highly pissed if I find any of –my- writing anywhere else. Thank you. 

Don Walden was a new worker in the morgue and was about to get the shock of his life. Admittedly, though the new body wasn't the first albino he'd had to deal with, it was the first albino that had been covered in blood from a deep wound on his side.

The blood against the chalk-white skin was so vibrant that it seemed almost to glow with an unearthly quality, which was decidedly creepy. Don looked down at the dead man's face. It was set into an expression of tired reverence with the eyes closed and was like that of an unpainted china doll – blank, pale, ethereal – accentuated by the blood spatters on the albino's face, as if someone had been about to paint it but, after accidentally splashing it with paint of the wrong colour, abandoned it to lie alone, collecting dust, wasting away into nothingness. What Mr Walden also noticed was that it was fairly young – the man wouldn't have been much older than 35. He sighed – it was sad to see people dead before they should have been.

Obviously, he thought, eyeing the bullet wound in the albino's side, he didn't have too much say in this.

He shook his head. "Poor man."

And then, as he watched the pale, empty face, the eyelids flickered. Mr Walden thought it was an illusion until the lids peeled upwards to reveal pink irises.

Walden's own eyes widened as a chilling shudder of fear ran up his spine, and a scream escaped his lips, wrenching the air of the almost empty rooms.

Bishop Aringarosa sat in one of the front pews of the church. Things were quiet, eerily so. Before, when things were normal Silas might have walked in to pray, or ask a question. The Bishop had often been amazed at the albino's strong will and, above that, faith. Faith was rare in a man who had experienced so many horrors in his past. When the Bishop spoke with Silas, he'd always watched the albino's face, for his smile was a miracle in itself and Aringarosa often wondered – when he smiled, did he remember his past at the same time? Was it possible for him to smile in spite of that?

Manuel Aringarosa had never been treated to the complete story of Silas' past – the albino had hinted, and the bishop had read the article about the prison escape and gathered that Silas was one of the escaped. He didn't believe Silas could have done wrong, and if he had, the Bishop was sure he felt remorse. He'd heard Silas murmur in his sleep about his father, and a recurring statement.

Usted es un desastre. Un fantasma.

He wasn't sure if Silas had been aware of this and had never mentioned it to him. There were so many things he had never asked his ward, so many things Silas had never asked him. Secrets, hidden parts of their pasts, so many things they would never tell each other. Such was the way of Death.

Aringarosa couldn't believe how much he was missing him. Silas had always been so faithful, so devout, so passionate. The Bishop knew that anyone who had the albino's trust could be guaranteed a comrade who would go to the ends of the earth for them. Die for them.

He died for the Teacher and he died for me, thought the Bishop. And then a thought entered his mind that he shunned, that he felt went against the "love thy neighbour" commandment. Curse you, Leigh Teabing. This is all your fault.

Annabel: Well, what did you think for a first chapter? It was longer but I didn't have much time to type it as I am actually meant to be off the computer now. No, I am not trying to start a Silas/Aringarosa romance, it just sounds like I am because my writing is so sappy. XD See you all when I update.