Silence.
Silence overtook them as they exited the busy streets of the city, and entered the dead quiet halls of the Catholic Church. It was evident that 47 was quite familiar with this church, as he briskly and confidently navigated his way through with Diana in tow.
47 was used to the church being tranquil, but there had always been other people there. 47 didn't think much of it, and continued through the dusty old church toward the well-known confessional. There sat an old priest, looking much more haggard than usual.
"Hello, Seth." 47 whispered as he sat down with Diane. "I told you I'd be back here by tomorrow, but I was a little tied up…"
The priest gave 47 a half smile. "I'm happy to see you, son. But I don't think you should be here right now."
"I know, you've told me plenty of times," 47 interrupted, "I don't need to be here because I'm not going to heaven anyways. But I have some things I should get off my chest, and I need some advice."
The priest stared quietly at him, so 47 continued. "Uhh, this is Diana. She's been helping me the past day or two. You see, there is something going on in the Agency, but Diana isn't in on it! They are trying to kill me, Seth. Remember that hit I was given a couple days ago? It was supposed to be just another standard one-hit, but it was a trap…"
47 was used to the priest being much more interested in his stories and perilous journeys, but he just continued to stare on, not seeming to listen at all.
"…Well anyways," 47 continued, "I'll just get on to the confession. I stabbed a man in the heart; I shot a man in the back of the head; I killed a half dozen men with a picture frame; I ran over a guy with my car; I stuffed a grenade in a man's throat; I rammed my elbow into a guy's esophagus; Oh, ya, and there was this time when I was knee deep in this one guy's… Hey, are you listening to me, Seth?"
During 47's ramblings, the priest had been whispering to Diana. 47 listened in on their conversation.
"You don't understand, you need to leave now." The priest looked very worried. It was then that 47's superior instincts kicked in; something was wrong.
"Seth, what's going on?"
At that moment, 47 felt cold. As he watched his best friend fall dead on the floor, any friendly or safe atmosphere he felt completely shifted into hostile and dangerous.
Pistol smoke filled the air. 47's senses slowed as he stared in disbelief at the bullet hole that had ripped through the priest's back. Numbness and confusion overcame him, and the room began to spin, all within a second or two. 47 looked up from the body as Diane screamed, and 47 saw a dangerous looking dark figure…the really dark figure.
47 tried to gather himself, and focused on the man standing in front of him, inside the confessional. "The Doctor…" he whispered. The Doctor smiled, aimed his gun, and pulled the trigger.
47 was immediately on the ground, withering in pain. He had been shot in the head. He figured he'd be dead within seconds. He heard another shot, and listened as another body dropped to the floor. Diana.
Once again, the church was silent. For a few milliseconds, there was no sound at all. It wasn't until 47 promptly stood up and withdrew his silverballers that there was any sound at all.
47 let loose. Rage had 47's index fingers working in rapid succession. Bullet after bullet shot past The Doctor, and many hit him. The Doctor quickly dove away out of sight.
47 yelled in primal anger. He swiftly dropped his pistols, grabbed a small grenade, and threw it in The Doctor's general area.
47 stood still, waiting to inspect if the grenade had been lethal. Again there was silence. Always silence.
Suddenly, 47 felt an intense pain in his left shoulder. As he quickly turned around, he saw The Doctor, with a 9 inch meat cleaver that he must have got from the church kitchen. It was soaked in blood. 47's blood.
Again, 47 nearly fainted with the pain. The knife took a large chunk out of his shoulder. The Doctor ran up on 47 with great speed and tenacity. The fight took to the ground, with 47 handicapped an arm.
47, being physically stronger of a clone than The Doctor, was able to hold him back with just one arm. However, The Doctor was much quicker than 47, and used his speed to quickly withdraw a weapon from within 47's own jacket. 47 was unable to see what The Doctor grabbed from his coat, but 47 quickly wrangled The Doctor's meat cleaver, rolled away and quickly stood up.
Unfortunately, a meat cleaver is not a good match against what the Doctor had achieved; a .22 caliber pistol. However, even the power of a high quality gun was no match for 47's brians.
With no hesitation, 47 quickly threw the cleaver. A clean cut halfway up The Doctor's forearm completely chopped off his hand, along with the gun. 47's luck, however, lasted less than a second. As the gun hit the ground, it went off, straight into 47's thigh.
Both men screamed in agony and fell to the ground.
Aware of The Doctor's quickness, 47 knew he didn't have much time. With nothing but a few knives left in his weapons jacket, 47 desperately began crawling to the gun, which was still attached to The Doctor's dismembered hand.
As 47 crawled, he noticed that The Doctor had the same idea. Once again, The Doctor's quickness proved a high advantage over 47, as the dark figure crawled toward the gun at amazing speed. With all his strength, 47 lunged on top of The Doctor, in a ground fight once more, but this time both had an unusable arm.
After several seconds of ruthless punching and clawing, 47 seemed to be winning. With one final punch to the temple, The Doctor laid still on the floor, a bloody pulp.
For just a second, 47 sat there in dismay. Two clones, made from the same mold, were now just senselessly killing each other. He looked at all the wounds and bruises they had inflicted on each other in just the past minute. He was saddened in the fact that he had allowed himself to give in to such rage, and that The Doctor had given into such evil.
47 slowly got off from on top of the lifeless heap. With no energy or strength left, 47 little by little made his way to the gun. He had to make sure The Doctor was dead so he couldn't hurt anyone anymore.
Just then, 47 heard a grumble of fury, and felt a deep pain in his calf. Startled, 47 looked over and saw a now conscious Doctor biting chunks out of 47's calf. 47 yelped, and began punching again.
47 was too weak now to fight for long. He was a well trained clone with superior stamina, but this was just too much. He gave in to exhaustion, and passed out.
47 woke up just seconds later, but to a dark figure standing over him with a gun aimed at his head.
"Why are you doing this?" 47 asked The Doctor.
The dark figure gave a little smile, and quietly replied, "Pistol Smoke…" At that point, The Doctor lifted his gun, and took aim at the hopeless, and confused, 47.
47, always calm and collected, gave a shriek. "O, God!"
In that same second, the sun immediately shone through a stain glass window. As the picture of Jesus shone brightly on the dark figure, The Doctor was temporarily blinded. The Doctor was a lover of darkness, and as the beam of light hit him, he gave a sharp yelp and stumbled backwards.
Suddenly, 47 heard a gun shot go off, and The Doctor fell backwards once more. The Doctor quickly got up, in disbelief, and swiftly limped out of the church.
Also in disbelief, 47 looked up at his savior. "Seth?"
"Who says a priest can't use guns?" The priest was a bloody mess that could barely stand, but he smirked to himself as he held a silverballer pistol.
