The large market of the Capital was bustling in midday heat, colorful wooden stalls with cloth tents lining the streets. Citizens streamed like a river from one stand to the next, browsing food, wares, and trinkets. Mothers held tight to their distracted children's hands, while vendors bartered and hollered, offering up their goods. The smells of food intermingled with the scent of people and dust, the voices and sights swirling into a rainbow of life.
The mass of people was completely unaware of the death that would occur today; everyone but one man.
Further back from the crowd, withdrawn and seemingly unnoticed, a tall man in a dark cloak stood. With the hood pulled up over his face despite the oppressive summer heat, he looked at ease, nearly asleep. Arms crossed, leaning slightly against the wall behind him, he watched the daily mundane interactions with half closed eyes.
Four hours. That's how long Dagger had been standing exactly like this.
While he did enjoy the atmosphere of the market and he'd waited longer on other stakeouts, he was starting to get tired from the sun and wanted to get this over with. The citizens browsing the stalls would want the man gone too, if they could see him. In order to keep himself hidden and inconspicuous, he used the shadows around him as a sort of cloak, using his power to keep them woven into a sheet. In the early morning, the trick was very effective and relatively easy to maintain. Now that it was midday, without a cloud in sight, he could feel the strain, the shadows thinning and stretching to try and accommodate his request.
As draining as it was, the man felt it was part of his duty. Not wanting to interrupt the peace of the day quite yet with his presence, Dagger was instead content to let the sounds of laughter and shouting wash over him. The one time he went out into the crowds, to the people, was for his missions. He could never stay long after, but he relished the moments before. He could listen to the cacophony and pretend he was just one of them, shopping at the start of his ordinary day.
The moment he lifted the magic keeping him hidden, he would be revealed and his facade would shatter.
A piercing laugh, mean and shrill, cut through the crowd and caught Dagger's attention. A short, greasy looking man was entering the market with a second man in tow, their servants nervously apologizing as their masters rudely jostled several people. Overadorned in necklaces, rings, and feathers, his silk clothes garishly bright orange and gold, the peacock of a man pushed his way through the crowd, not sparing a glance for anyone other than his conversation partner. The regulars of the market retreated, giving him a wide berth, their own conversations hushing when they caught glimpse of him. Many shot him a glare once he was far enough away.
It was who Dagger had been waiting for.
The man and his partner, not quite so flamboyantly dressed but still with plenty of precious gems, strutted up to a fruit and jam stall. The woman running the modest stand paled, clearly having dealt with the man before. Attempting to give a weak smile, the young lady crossed her arms over herself and took a step back as he approached.
The man harassing the market was Sir Victor Croallo the Third, a low born noble who used his power and wealth to harass others and live an extravagant life. Recently, though, he had gone from bad to worse. There had been a few missing women, with their bodies found days later. The Royal Guards said there wasn't enough proof to bring him in, but the citizens knew what was really happening. After all, the man would harass the lady's stall for a few days before each disappearance.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
It was time for Dagger to step in.
Like letting out a big breath, Dagger let go of the shadows he held around him. Stepping out from his oasis of darkness, he grimaced as he felt the sun press down on top of his cloak. It took only moments for the people closest to him to feel his intimidating aura and bloodlust. A wave of gasps and whispers began as he walked through the crowd. There was no need to push through; his notoriety was enough to earn a wide path. Without hesitation, he began to cross the dusty market.
What was loud and busy just moments ago had become silent and still, save for Victor Croallo, who was so immersed in his current endeavor that he hadn't sensed the change in the atmosphere. The young woman running the stall glanced up to see Dagger approach and let out a yelp, eyes going wide. Without another look at Victor, she ran behind the cart to hide among her wares.
"Hey, what the hells-" Victor started to shout, before his friend pulled on his frilly sleeve with a trembling hand, indicating to look behind him.
Dagger wasted no time. Stopping a few feet away, Dagger began his speech.
"Are you Victor Tiberius Croallo, fifth son of Count Croallo?" His voice was low and quiet, but it carried to every corner of the market. Dagger stared down at the man, removing his leather gloves and pocketing them in his cloak.
"Ha! If you know who I am, how dare you speak to me like this!" the man shouted, puffing his chest out to punctuate his point. Specks of spit flew from his lips with each word. "Yes, I am, and I expect an apology, you filthy peasant!"
"Victor Croallo," Dagger continued, ignoring the insults, "You have been charged with the murder of Ms. Corrie Paledine, Ms. Rebecka Sarson, and Mrs. Amari Houbet."
Still failing to recognize who Dagger was and realize the danger he was in, the noble scoffed at him and crossed his arms.
"Those charges were dropped by The Royal Guards due to unfounded evidence," Victor smirked, not looking remorseful in the least. "So I MUST say, this SLANDER-"
"While the guards concluded the evidence wasn't sufficient," Dagger interrupted, taking one step forward, "there are witnesses to the crime and the people have agreed upon your guilt."
"So what?" the man shrugged, but sweat was beading up on his forehead. He felt that he was superior in every way, so why was he afraid of this market ruffian who was trying to intimidate him?
"As the Vigilante of Raizakar, I will eliminate the threat to the citizens and enact justice."
Though he had been just a few steps away, all of a sudden Dagger stood right in front of the flamboyant man, materializing like a shadow. His hand was raised, outstretched, as though to gently touch Victor's cheek.
"Do you have any last words?"
Victor's face rapidly paled and his knees went weak as he, too late, realized who stood before him and the significance of it. A man that even nobles knew of and feared, speaking of in hushed tones. They said if you crossed paths with the evil being, you wouldn't survive to tell.
"The Demon! You're the Demon of Raizaker!" the nobleman wheezed out, finger trembling as he pointed. "Stay back! I didn't do anything wrong! I-"
Before he could think to try and escape, Dagger grazed his fingers across the man's cheek.
"Poor choice of last words," Dagger growled, eyes nearly black.
Victor let out a wail that sounded inhuman, one long drawn out cry that only lasted a moment but echoed in the market for several seconds. His eyes never shut, pupils contracting before finally going blank. Hardly even changing his position, the noble died almost instantly, his knees hitting the ground with a dull thud as his body collapsed.
Nobody in the market spoke, as if frozen in a moment in time.
Dagger took a deep breath, readying himself to return back to his house. Someone would call the Royal Guard as soon as he left to take care of the body.
His motion seemed to break the spell; a man screamed out from the crowd, "You filthy demon! Black hearted murderer! You're just as bad as him!" Murmurs and shouts began to ripple throughout the crowd and he heard a child wail.
Without a reply or a single look back, Dagger stepped into his shadowy magic and disappeared from the market.
this content is also on Wattpad, but it is my own. I have editted the first sentences on Wattpad for verification. please let me know if this is not enough.
My Stories - Wattpad