Somewhere in the Mountains of the Former Yugoslavia.
A darkened room. The only light shines through the open window from the moon outside. Outside a dozen guards patrol the grounds of the mountaintop retreat. None the wiser to the situation within. The same goes for their comrades, who diligently patrol the hallways ever alert for threats. Taking great care not to disturb their employer, who unbeknownst to them is lying on the floor unable to cry out for help, his voice box crushed by a precision strike to the throat. The woman he'd shared a bed with minutes before blissfully unaware of what is about to befall him. Panicked eyes dart around the room, searching for his attacker, at the same time attempting to drag himself towards the nightstand where a panic button is hidden.
He's getting close...
Almost there...
His trembling hand reaches out as far as it possibly can... a little closer now...
Less than an inch to go...
Out of the shadows a heavy boot slams down on his hand, he attempts to cry out in pain but only manages a weak gurgling noise as he looks up at his assailant. Dark red lenses from some sort of mask stare back. Showing no emotion. No mercy. No humanity.
In another attempt to call for help he lunges with his free hand towards the alarm, and in a blur of motion the shadows themselves seem to come alive and restrain his arm, pulling it to an unnatural angle, clearly breaking it. Another muted cry goes out, no one hears it. Not even the sleeping woman a few meters away. The masked figure takes a knee beside his victim patting him on the shoulder as he trembles with fear. A single gloved hand wrapping around the mute's neck.
*Cra-ACK!*
With just a flick of his wrist, a man responsible for thousands of deaths nearly two decades prior, fells no more pain. His neck having been snapped like a twig. Before another sixty seconds ticks by, the living shadow is gone from the room, making his way down the mountain, away from wandering patrols of Serbian nationalists who were protecting the man. For the moment, no one is none the wiser anyone had even paid the war criminal a visit.
His body would be discovered by the sleeping woman when she awoke the next day, instantly alerting the guards, they would search the countryside for the killer, but he had seemingly vanished into thin air. Former Lieutenant General Aleksander Davor would become just another name on a steadily growing list of victims...
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Name: Unknown
Aliases: The Shadow, The Dark One, The Living Shadow, The Mute
Identity: Unknown
Age: Estimated 20's - 30's
Height: 6.0
Weight: Estimated 200+ Pounds
Alignment: None
Sex: Male
Hair: Unknown
Eyes: Unknown
Family: None
Power Origin: Mutant?
Nationality: Unknown, Possibly Eastern European
Species: Human?
Occupation: Assassin
Known Abilities:
- Umbrakinesis
- Telepathic Resistance
- Master of Stealth
- Skilled Hand to Hand Combatant
- Skilled Marksman
- Skilled Knife Fighter
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