The Beginning

The Beginning

He awoke to a suffocating and total blackness, once again having to remember he was blind. Horatio Griffon, could barely breathe. He was always whole in his dreams, which were so filled with color and detail that it was easy to forget he had ever not been able to see. But every time he woke, reality would crash back in.

Shouts, whispers, banging, tapping, singing, sliding, clapping, chewing: Horatio could hear them all. It was early morning and coming home from another long night at the office, Horatio had never felt worse. He had barely slept an hour these past few days due to a rash of murders and kidnappings that seemingly came out of nowhere. He knew they were somehow connected, he just hadn’t figured it out yet. But this morning, something else was off, he had this sinking feeling in his gut and a sense of foreboding in the back of his mind. He was so preoccupied within his own head that he passed his apartment three times before he was knocked over by a person carrying something quite large and obviously in a hurry. Still stuck in his own head, he managed to get up, realize his positioning, and take the few steps to his door. As he walked up the three flights of stairs to his apartment, Horatio listened to Mr. Wessing cooking on the first floor, he heard Miss Fay taking care of her wards on the second, but discerned nothing from his own apartment on the third. He hurried up the last few steps and threw open the door, tears already streaming down his face, Samantha was gone.

One week. Horatio was plagued by doubts and questions at every turn. Why couldn't he find her? What was he missing? Hours upon hours upon hours...SMACK! He pounded his palms against the desk in anger, in frustration, in misery. Maybe he should be getting more sleep, but then when he tries to, he winds up laying in bed, unable to slip into the sweet, sweet release of oblivion. His mind turning and whirring, never stopping the search for his beloved Samantha, who for all intents and purposes was five days dead by now. But he couldn’t let himself think like that.

It was then, as he stood up to pace around his office, he could no longer stay in the apartment, that the abductors made their mistake. If not for his heightened senses he would be bleeding out on the floor, but at the very last second he felt the air move with the strike of a blade and heard the softest of taps from the man jumping in from the window. He managed to dodge the blade speeding towards his neck but he could almost feel it as it sailed mere millimeters off target. Quickly recovering, the man lunged again, this time aiming for Horatio's stomach. Thanks to the springy wood boards that made up his floor, Horatio was once again able to discern his assailant’s movements and dodge the thrust. Years of fighting experience meant he knew exactly where the assassins’ hand would end up and Horatio managed to knock the blade out of the man's grip. Horatio could tell from the way the man’s breathing changed that he had not expected much resistance and would now be more defensive. Horatio knew he had to press his advantage and jumped at the assassins. Their bodies met in a clash of desperation. Horatio dodged another blow to his head only to feel the hard metal of brass knuckles slam into his gut. He retaliated with a kick to the assailant’s leg causing it to buckle. Another swing came rushing at Horatio but he had predicted its occurrence and was able to grab hold. SNAP! The man’s right arm lay broken at his side. The assassin threw out his left fist in a flurry of movement that even Horatio’s heightened senses could not make out, breaking Horatio's nose. Recoiling, Horatio shifted his balance and lunged for the man once again, knocking them both to the wood floor now stained with sweat and blood. One last struggle occurred on the floor, finally ending as Horatio snapped the man's neck in one fluid motion.

Wasting no time with the body, Horatio crawled immediately over towards the knife, casting his hands about on the floor where he had heard it land. Upon examination, dread filled his entire being as he ran his fingers along a familiar inscription upon the hilt. The Society was back. Horatio instantly dropped to the floor as he could hear a bullet hit the wall behind him. Of course there was a sniper. He thought he had taken them down years ago. Why would they come back now? Were they behind all the murders that had been happening recently? Why? He needed to understand, he needed time to think, but Horatio knew that was a luxury he would not be afforded until his assailants were dealt with. Making sure to completely avoid all windows, he slowly made his way downstairs and heard two more assassins waiting for him to try and leave. Their soft footsteps and shallow breaths were not enough to keep them hidden. Silently, he made his way behind the first and snapped his neck, lunging in the direction of the second immediately after, bringing them both to the floor. His opponent struggled to get out and position his gun, but before he could, was killed by a swift upwards strike of Horatio’s palm to his nose.

It only took another five minutes or so before the sniper left his post to come investigate the scene, cementing Horatio’s victory. Horatio was ready for him at the door, and when he could hear him on the other side, he emptied one of his assailant’s guns, stopping only when he heard the body hit the floor.

Letting himself sink to the floor, back up against a wall, Horatio smiled for the first time since Samantha had been taken. Now he had a lead. Now he would start to fit the puzzle pieces together. Now it was time to get to work.