A Dark Disguise

The Spider stepped back, pressing his body into the musty cobwebs of the wall and melding into the blackness. In his trained ears, the silence grew louder as he waited, unmoving. He could just make out a rhythmic tapping now, growing closer and from his right yet still in the distance. The human footfalls drew nearer yet he remained calm. He took in one last breath and held it. As he did so, he relaxed, allowing the tendrils of shadow around him to creep out and envelope him, drawing close to the wall. The stranger reached the intersection on his right and stopped, considering which way to take. They chose left and the light footsteps came ever nearer. The figure came close, stirring the air on his cheek. It was a girl, evident from the smell of floral perfume that drifted to his nose. Finally she walked by, unaware of the danger that at any other time he would have posed to her. Idle theft was not on his agenda this night, certainly not from a young girl off to meet some secret lover or similar.

Once more he set out, picking his way through the murky puddles and foul-smelling water of the sewers. He had come to appreciate the solitude of his job. Alone, you could truly begin to understand your real self, what you were made of. As he criss-crossed his way beneath the city he pondered on the girl he had just seen, how different her life was from his and what his life was once going to be. Anyway. That was in the past. Tonight was what he needed to concentrate on. Tonight and the job ahead.

Finally he arrived at his destination. He had sidetracked and backtracked for the best part of an hour around the city’s foundations to confuse any who might have wished to follow him. He knew that none had however. He had planned this for too long to allow some merely inquisitive member of another guild to track him.

In front of him stood a door, constructed of solid oak with iron bands bracing it for support. A standard cylinder type lock was its only defence the young man noted. Once more he delved into his belt pouch and this time pulled out a set of lock picks in a leather case. He carefully selected one of a suitable size and slid it into the keyhole. A few seconds later, the heavy oak door swung inwards on its hinges with a soft shudder, revealing a candlelit cellar. Replacing the pick in its leather case, he stepped over the threshold and deliberately left the door open. Arousing a guard with the click of the door shutting would be most unhelpful.

Stepping into the cellar, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the comparatively bright candlelight. Smoothly, he looked around him. An array of expensive, luxurious but unwanted items met his eyes. To his left stood six large barrels of wine and to his right, a bunker of firewood and various objects stored down here. A gilt-edged mirror the full height of a man and dark red leather chair, both costly and dust covered. An old horse’s tack and saddle lay with crumbling leather reins on top of the chair. He had gained a fair idea as to the layout of the house already from the architect’s plans yet the personal details always surprised him. While he had the chance he drew out his long work knife from inside his sleeve and took out the vial he had collected earlier as well. He uncorked it with a squeaky pop and soaked some of the thick purple liquid into a cloth from his sleeve.