Silas laid there in bed he already had known what had happened to the soul he simply didn't want the demon to know. Silas knew the bottles were good to keep souls in because a demon had owned them and being in a demons presence preseverd souls. But they weren't his to collect. Silas had every intention of killing Chiaro the second he saw the souls but... he hadn't known why he didn't/ Silas tried to laugh and be merry but he knew when serious business was going down. Silas cursed. He had no weappon either and had known he wasn;t strong enough to confront Chiaro in any form of duel.
"Damnit all!" He cursed he had no way to express anger. No knife to throw, nothing to punch, nothing to break.

Silas was a strong man, yes but he had no real desire to sell his soul. Many a demon had tried to convince him but... he just couldn't. He had nothing to wait for to keep his soul for. He was a worthless Fallen angel. Or as many Angels called them just Fallen. When Silas had Fallen many Angels were shocked. Silas knew why he had fallen but he revealed it to no one.

Silas looked at the ceiling laying on his bed. Wondering Why. Why collect the souls the way they do. Why send them to heaven or hell the way they do. Why do any of it. Silas let out a small growl. If anything he was the fool. He remembered the day he had died. His mind flashed back to his death.
'Brooother!!! Brooother!' his sister Elisa called for him. He turned to her his dark black hair tied back in a pony tail he was a Warrior for his family. It was his twentieth Birthday. 'Brother!' Elisa had caught up to him. 'Yes Elisa?' He asked being polite. 'Brother, Momma says Be Careful.' She smiled as he did 'Okay Elisa, now go home before you get hurt.' he was leaving to fight in a war. Which one he had not remembered. He had only left for ten minutes when he heard a scream. He turned and there on the ground was his sister. He had been ambushed. They knew where he was. the enemies. They captured his sister and quickly finished him off. Slicing through him from right shoulder to right hip. His torso still alive. he died slowly.

"A Pitiful Death for a Pitiful man" Silas muttered. When he had went to Heaven he had looked for his sister. He had been unable to find her. "i bet she can't even remember her own name." He whispered. She had been so little so small. No more the age of eight. He let out a small choked sob. He sighed and rose from the bed. His sister had been very dear to him. He cursed. He didn't know how long ago it was. He couldn't tell day from day. He had once tried to count days but each time he marked the calendar he came back the next day and a new one was in its place. he sighed. He looked out the window and saw someone at the book shop Chiaro owned. He watched intently.