Contest #9: Writing challenge

[Ascor]

Not the Final Result, may be changed.
Comments please

Edit: Don't look at it it's bad.

The cry of a single raven broke the silence of the night. The light of the moon threw nightmarish shadows, one of them being close to a human shape. For a few seconds the shadow laid on the wet grass of a park, then he began to move towards an old Victorian estate. As the raven cried a second time, the head of the shadow turned around and finally light fell onto the face of the man the shadow was belonging to. It was the face of an old man who had already seen too much in his life, but his eyes still radiated power and a strong will.
After some more seconds he came to the great wooden door and took out a pack of picklocks. He tried the first one, but it didn't fit. A silent curse escaped from his mouth. Hectically he took out the next one and almost dropped it.
'Stay calm' he told himself. 'There is no need to rush.'
Finally he managed to open the lock. He slowly moved the door. With a long and painful scream it swung open. He was there. Just one last step to go...
A single Candle burned on the Table throwing deep Shadows at the valleys of an aging Face.
“Victor… you are here, sit down, my old Friend, we have much to talk about”
“How did you know I would come”, he asked him.
“Oh Victor I know you. I know you can’t leave things unfinished”
“Watch out he might be prepared”, Victor thought feeling the cold Steel inside his Boots.
After a small Pause the old Man started talking again.
“Victor, why didn’t you just hide and live a peaceful Life.”
“Robert! You killed the Sergeant!”
“You came all the long way to find me for that”, Robert asked.
“It took 20 years but now I’m here”
“Now you’re here… your journey was long so maybe you want a cup of tea?”
“Sure”, Victor answered knowing that this wouldn’t matter at all.
In the End on of them had to die.
Either Victor, the Soldier who always believed in the Army, or Robert, the Traitor who is loyal to everyone who’s Goals are the ones that promise the most Power.
“I am younger than Robert, this may be an advantage”, he thought.
Suddenly they heard a noise of something falling to the Ground.
“Now or never”, Victor thought pulling out his old Knife in his Boots.
He ran at Robert, ready to stab him.
Blood splattered on the Ground.
“Well played Victor… Well played”, Robert said holding the Knife he dropped before in his Hand.
Victor stared in his cold crimson Eyes.
“Why?”