Silas poured over the files, his gaze boring into the papers without break. Studying every available clue until the midnight hour when finally he finished his review.

There were too many holes in the information of the paperwork Yona had given him.

The thicker than normal dossier of his final Collection revealed Johannes Faust as a man that sold his soul to the Devil in exchange for all the knowledge in the world. Lucifer agreed and Faust spent many years studying. During which, he too was under contract but his job remained classified in every page of the file. Eventually Johannes rebelled against his contact but any information regarding how the treason took place was nothing but blacked out paragraphs. What was revealed was the severity of Faust’s punishment. 

Lucifer in turn killed him, taking his soul to the ninth Level of Hell. There, the greatest criminals of all – the traitors of their benefactors were kept. 

Faust was frozen in a lake of ice for centuries. There were more redacted pages. More text missing. 

He then somehow managed to escape. Taking four others with him on his way out of the Underworld and out onto its doorstep, back to the strange world found just beyond death.

Silas' eyebrows furrowed.

The time stamp on the file was a year prior. Faust had been free for a year. His escape coincided with another string of events Silas was very well aware of. It was around that same time the rumor began. The rumor Soul Collectors around the world were disappearing. Silas didn't know any other Soul Collectors personally, but he knew they existed. From what he pieced together from Yona's years of incessant chatter was that at any given time, there were anywhere from several dozen to an average of a hundred Soul Collectors employed. He wasn't the only one to have sold his soul to the Devil although due to the high turn over rate, most did not last long in their assigned position. Something that didn't make him think of the situation any better. From what he knew, he was one of the longest, if not the longest employed under contract with Lucifer.

Sky watched her Keeper without a word. She knew what lay beneath the surface of the stone expression that never changed. While on the doorstep of freedom, the order of going to the Archives was being overshadowed by Silas' desire to bring an end to the Contract by his own means.

"Are we going to the Archives?" Sky asked, breaking the silence once Silas had closed the file.  

"No," The Collector shook his head. "My Sky and your Silas will first extend an introduction. This one needs to see the faces of their new prey."

Sky came closer, the Soul Collector offering his hand to her. As always she took it without hesitation.

"How?"

Silas had already been thinking of a better way to get the answer to that question. There was no need for the Archives.

"They are different from those my Sky and this one have faced before. May your Silas suggest the Dark Markets? This one is certain the connections there would know more than Lucius."

Sky did not object. She couldn't even if she had wanted. 

The Dark Markets were a safe haven for the Fallen and associates of Hell; from vampires to werewolves, Daemons, witches and sorcerers. A place Silas more often steered clear, except when in need of information. It wasn't exactly as though he was a welcomed sight. Most fled from view when they saw him coming. His presence never meant anything good to anyone as no one knew who would be the next name on his list.

"Lead us." Sky looked into the Collector's black eyes, the chains gathering in a life of their own to him. Draping themselves over his waiting arms, Silas welcomed them. The links weighing both nothing and the entire world were carried along by the Collector in the black suit. The ghost girl was pulled along weightlessly as she held onto his arm. Descending the stairs of their Temple Court, Silas' footsteps did not rush. Keeping a metrical beat, they moved across the heart of dystopian city that was that Other New York. Crumbling on the steps before Heaven and Hell. 

As he walked, Silas could sometimes see the flicker of the mortal realm, shadows of the living people there but the world could see neither him nor Sky in return. Early in his career, the flickers had haunted him. Tormenting him as a reminder of the world from which he came. Now that world was nothing but a distant memory. Crossing back was an impossibility. Every Other knew that.

While the Collector searched out the ones with a bounty on their heads, the entire supernatural community of that strange New York knew who he was, their names and who he worked for. An executioner and death sentence for sins unatoned. Most steered clear of him but there was the odd Other who remained indifferent. 

One in particular that Silas had in mind was one that always listening. A certain someone who was very much willing to share the things they heard. For a price. Everything had a string attached in the Dark Markets.

In a crumbling Midtown, they turned into the shadows of an adjoining alley, their destination not far off. There were entrances to the Dark Markets spread across the city. It was just convenient that one was not far from their own sanctuary. More lucrative for information than the Archives, it would give him, at least, the direction he desired. 

The alley they had turned down was in no way different to the naked eye from any other, it was the lone door at its end that would open the gateway to the world of the Dark Markets.

The door had no window nor did it have a handle to turn. Aside from those minor inconveniences, it couldn't be pushed in and there was no grip to pry the door open. Walking up to it, Silas pressed his marked palm onto the rusting metal of the door. 

The door swung open on an invisible hinge, Silas and Sky were greeted by door security, an Other of troll decent, who upon recognizing Silas and his soulless eyes, stepped out of Collector's way and letting he and Sky pass. Stepping into the darkness of the entrance, the Collector moved as a shadow down the connecting hallway that led to the elevators. Passing stares, wafts of sweet smokes and whispers that would go silent when they neared, by Silas' lead they reached the lifts to the Markets. Stepping up to a set of black iron doors, the elevator opened to them by allowance of the elevator operator, another Other dressed in black robes and a plague mask.

"Going down?" The operator asked.

The Collector stepped in with Sky swimming in beside him, ignoring the curious stares peered at them from the hall as the doors closed behind them.

With the pull of a lever by the silent operator, the elevator creaked and moaned to a start, shaking suddenly before beginning its slow descent. It was only a matter of floors, but the elevator hadn't been upgraded in over a century.

While Sky's round eyes remained on the operator, Silas' black eyes on her. With being in such close proximity to any one in such a confined space, if the Collector's focus were to falter, Sky could devour that life in the blink of the moment passing.

The operator on the other hand, paid no attention to them. He never did.

A cold finger at her cheek turned her gaze to his, keeping it locked there as the elevator descended in a silence broken only by the scrapings of the elevator's rusting metal.

Down into the depths of the Dark Markets. A subterranean mass of souk-like shops built in the underground of that Other New York. Some halls were from deep subway tunnels that had been unused with further hand built passages connecting levels with whatever available spaces could be crammed with shops.

They exited the lift the moment the claustrophobic metal box ground to a halt and its door screeched open.

Stepping out, Silas' height towered. Chains on his arms and Sky at his side. This Dark Market entrance was an old subway platform, built in the glory days of the city's expansion but never used for its intended purpose. Instead it became the entrance for the markets for those that worshipped and enshrined the Fallen.

There had always been two groups. No matter where in the world you went. There were the Others that followed the path of the Divine. And then there were those that chose the path of the Fallen. Little did the mortal world know was that although those two worlds were at constant odds, it was not in the same image of fires and clouds as told in the old stories that ran deep through their religions. It was instead, far more organized and operated as two rival companies in business. 

The grand marbled platform with its Victorian architecture,  dozens of shops greeting them near the entrance. A small taste of what the actual market held. Marked signs hung from vaulted ceilings, visitors were directed to the more than dozen staircases and adjoining tunnels that connected this particular entrance to the rest of the Market's levels.

Sky was always round eyed when she visited, filled with fascination of the strange wares found in every shop. Crowds parted, going silent and staring at their passing. The cold chill in their presence spread through the hall. But Silas kept Sky's leash short, never allowing her more than an arm's length from him at any time when there were Others near. Not only for the sake of those in the Markets but also for the protection of the chains. Keeping them close, the Collector avoided anyone's unwanted touch, making it known in the air that surrounded him. He had been accosted for control of the chains once before.

'Anything you want.' Silas had been offered before by an Other, young and stupid. Such a request was ignored but when they tried to touch the chains, there was no mercy from the Collector. Breaking both their arms and nearly crushing their skull, several bystanders had to pull the fool away before Silas would have certainly broken him beyond repair.

It never happened again but it left the man in black more protective over what belonged to him.

Joined hallways lined with more shops to supply the Other's world. The entrance to every floor, hall and flight of stairs were marked with wards and shrines to the different Fallen, Lucifer and the highest ranking of Hell. Most Others wanted to stay on the good side of the ones that pulled the strings in their final death. The Dark Markets were not controlled directly by Hell but were frequented by its Dæmons. For the most part, the Divine steered clear of the Markets or were often denied entry. Not wanting to soil their white clothes in those dark places, the shrines and Hell's wares of the Markets were enough to make most visiting Divine nauseous. Although there was the odd one that found their way in and could stomach the visit. 

Supplies for the witch and sorcerer. Trinkets for curious elves. Wares for vampires, ogres and werewolves. There were shops for charms, familiars, curses, spells and magical items. There were restaurants for every palate, social rest areas that ran deeper and deeper with every floor and services offered by certain vendors that went beyond what was advertised through their displayed wares.

The Dark Markets were as old as the foundations of New York. And certain shops had remained in the hands of many long living Others. Others that had been there since the very beginning of the markets themselves. Shops were, after all, crammed next to one another with no room for any new ones to be built. Those that owned any space there were as possessive of their space as Silas was of his chains.

When the black monolith with the ghost of white passed, shop owners would disappear into back rooms to avoid them. With Sky, both gazes remained forward, silent to avoid confrontation.

Down a flight of stairs, more Others moving aside on the steps for Silas. The second level housed the one the Collector sought. To the end of one particular hall, they arrived. All guests greeted by a small wooden sign hanging from the sign post at the corner of the entrance; Victor's Galipot.