Shadows (Open)

It was late. By now, the sounds of night crept through the forest and amassed into one body of croaking and chirping. The only existent illumination was created by a single bulb hung from the outside of a 40 foot RV and a dim light in one of its windows. Not a sound was emitted from it.

The light in the window went silent and light footsteps were heard on the floor from the inside. The door opened very subtly and somebody stepped out. Their back was lit up by the light next to the door and the figure swatted away the insects that were collected by the bulb. Their face was hidden by a black scarf and a black beanie so only their eyes were visible. The rest of their clothes were dark and only the paleness of their face could be seen in the light.

On his back, there was a rifle, and two black pistols were holstered at his sides. The boots on his feet landed heavily on the dirt and litter; not bothering to keep down the volume for he knew that the other two beings in the RV wouldn't hear him over the blaring TV.

For a while, he walked. The road that led to the RV was rather lengthy and isolated from the road which it broke off of. The footsteps quieted to a light thud as they hit the street, and the figure broke into a sprint towards the bright end of the street where civilization began. He stayed out of the cloud of light the street lamps created to keep himself concealed in the dark, and channeled his breathing to keep quiet.

---

Soon enough, he reached the civilized part of Death City and hid among the line of trees. There was a leatherback folder in his hand that he'd pulled out of his jacket. On the inside was a mass of papers. One in specific had a photograph of a person; followed by a description and personal information. It gave him every last minute detail of the victim. Right down to the reward for the person's soul.

The weapon closed the folder and hid it in his jacket again. He pulled between two large buildings and peered down to the end to a party of people crowded around an outdoor bar. In seconds, his face seemed to peel back around his right eye and metal replaced his skin. His eye socket formed into a rectangular shaped piece of machinery with a red screen in the middle. In his perspective, he could see everything in infrared just as he could in his weapon form.

Bringing the face back into his mind, he begins to search for the man in the crowd. His hand moves to his back to grab the rifle and he brings it to his eye. This was an easy job. He'd been given plenty of jobs, but this was a piece of cake.

Patience was key. He searched for a long time, but eventually, the face slid into his vision and he focused on it. His aim was near perfect and the shot flew right through the side of the man's head. Blood spattered on the neighboring citizens and the man fell to the ground. Panic rose slowly through the crowd and people began to spread. Barry got on his feet and his eye returned to normal. There was no guilt. No regret.

He had to grab the man's soul once it appeared, but he put all of his weapons underneath a pile of garbage and removed the beanie and the scarf. He took the gloves off of his hands and stuffed them in his pocket; casually walking out of the alleyway. Now, his face was visible. He was an older man in his 40s. His face was very crude looking and his hair was dark, messy and short. He was heavily scarred, and they showed even through the beard on his face. His eyebrows hung low over his eyes and the light cast darkness over his eyes.

As the people scattered and disappeared, he walked right up to the man's body and watched it disappear. Nothing remained but his soul. Barry felt no pity for this man. He was nothing but trash. Something to be thrown away. Nothing good came from him.

(ALSO, somebody told me that characters could not carry guns that weren't powered by a soul wavelength. When did this go into effect and what are the restrictions on guns? I guess I was gone when this became a thing but I'll have to edit the thread so he's only using himself as a weapon.)

Astryd wiped the blood off her face with a scowl, walking right up to the strange man. "What the hell are you doing, killing in a crowd like that?"
She asked him, fists clenching inside her jacket.
"I may not have a partner, but I know that you aren't supposed to do that."
She frowned deeply, staring at the older man in defiance.