Music in the background could be heard; it played loudly through the glamorous apartment… Ave Maria echoed through the marbled halls that had expensive, beautiful and large pictures hanged on them. Shoes tapped on the floor as a man approached a chair with an end table near; on it there was a lit cigar with a glass of cognac near it. The man sat on the table and looked blindly in the air, placing the cigar in his mouth he inhaled and exhaled; he waved his finger in the air to the tone of the music he then chuckled slightly “Ah, Mr. Death came here himself…” he paused for a moment still looking around blindly, a man with his hands behind his back walked in as his shoes tapped on the floor he wore an large skull mask with a bandana tied to his neck, a black shirt and full body armor, gloves, army black pants, kneepads and military boots. He stood in the shadow behind the man that spoke “…are we still not going to talk?” the man continued letting out a small chuckle again. The man suddenly stood up “Come on Mr. Thompson… you can’t hide from a man that is on his death bed. Come… let me enjoy this only a little bit surely you can do that, I will die either way no matter if you let me live 30 minutes more or 5 minutes more.” He chuckled again then took a sip of his drink “You are not scared of me Mr. Thompson? You did not even flinch when I stood up, you were not even afraid if I would reach for my gun not even interested even. Your presence alone emanates such a strong sense of fear… making these brittle old bones shake to the very core of my body. No, I am not afraid of death Mr. Thompson… I can assure you of that, it has plagued me for so long that I don’t even care of it anymore; what I am afraid of is… you. You who are merely a human like I am, a man that breathes, eats and sleeps just like I do like every other man in this god damned world does; yet you make me shiver and shake your presence alone makes me tremble. Is it because of all those stories I heard about you? The things you have done to the people you killed? It’s maybe the way you killed them?” The man placed his glass on the end table and took another pull on his cigar looking again at Slade he smiled “At least I will die with a smile.” He said and continued to laugh like a maniac, with simple move of his right hand Slade revealed the gun he was holding in his hand, still holding the other hand behind his back he pulled the trigger sending a bullet straight to the center of the man’s head and the man quietly fell backwards to the floor. The gramophone skipped and the song stopped… Slade placed his gun in his holster and walked over with his hands behind his back again to the gramophone and fixed the needle. Continuing to play the song, he walked over to the end table and picked up the glass the man had; removing his mask slightly he finished the drink and placed it back on the table. Slowly walking over to the balcony of the apartment he took a big breath of air and looked at the night sky.