Fan Fiction: First-Hand Accounts
The Life of an Agent
by Greg Daulton
Chapter 4: The Ace News Reporter
New York City - January 1932
The small clock on the wall of the small, dilapidated apartment struck midnight. Sighing heavily, unable to sleep, Clyde Burke grabbed the paper from his night table and read the headline from the New York Classic.
"The Shadow Strikes Again"
Burke's fingers tightened around the paper as he held the page up to the light of the lamp next to his bed. He had heard of this mysterious character a few months back when he was a crime reporter for the Daily Clarion newspaper. It had since folded and was replaced by a tabloid rag known as the Daily Sphere. Clyde had taken great pride in his job but, since the paper had ended, had barely survived only by doing small errand jobs for even smaller no-name weekly outfits.
As he continued to read the article, Burke gained a respect for the "vigilante menace" as the papers called him. He knew New York to be a seedy and vile lair of villainy that could benefit from someone like The Shadow. He was both interested in and envious of this man as he tried to imagine the adventure and the danger that he might encounter.
As he finished the article, he threw the paper on the night table and slowly raised himself from his bed. As he stretched, he moved through his cramped and dimly lit apartment to the small kitchen area. Removing a glass from the small cabinet on the wall, he poured himself some bourbon. He opened a drawer underneath the kitchen counter and removed the small, loaded pistol for which he pawned a writing award a few months earlier. This seemed to be his nightly ritual. He read the newspaper, drank and played with his gun every night to appease the demons of insomnia.
As minutes passed, having had a few more drinks, Burke toyed with the firearm. As he prepared to pour himself yet another glass of bourbon, the large French windows at the edge of the living room flew open. Thick and murky fog immediately crept into the room and the half-drunken reporter became instantly alarmed by what materialized in front of him.
A menacing black silhouette appeared in the fog before revealing himself by swiftly moving towards the down on his luck newspaperman. Burke clenched the pistol tightly in his hand before quickly aiming it. Suddenly the mysterious visitor lurched forward and knocked it from his hand, before settling back into the mist. Burke recoiled in fright as he clumsily stepped back.
"Careful, Mr. Burke," the stranger pronounced. "No one is going to harm you."
"Who… Who are you?" Clyde Burke cried out with nervousness and apprehension.
"I am known as The Shadow."
"The man from the papers? But why are you here? It's the middle of the night! What do you want with me?"
"I have a proposition for you."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"You're a good reporter, Burke. One of the best that this city has ever seen."
"So? That's what I do. A man has to make a living."
"I wish to have you work for me," The Shadow offered.
"A job offer? Is that what this is about?"
"Only partly. What I offer is a chance at a better, more fulfilling life. It will be a life fraught with peril, but also one of excitement and luxury. But it will not be an easy life. I will have you as one of my agents. You will be on call at all times to do for me whatever I choose."
The reporter thought for only a moment before agreeing to the terms. "I don't have much to lose, I guess. I'm in, but what's the catch?"
"All I require of you is obedience. Absolute agreement to do anything and everything that is required of you at all times."
"Well, it beats what I got here. I'm not quite sure how long these odd jobs are gonna be keeping me fed anyhow."
"Excellent," The Shadow uttered as he moved forward out of the fog that was now dissipating from the room.
As he approached, Burke saw the generous man who was visiting him on this night. He looked evil and terrible, dressed in a wide-brimmed hat and black cloak, like a villain from one of the dime novels that he sometimes read.
Did I just make a deal with the devil? Burke wondered.
The Shadow extended a hand and as Burke reluctantly offered his, there was an instantly mutual understanding. These men would not act as master and servant, but as colleagues and possibly friends.
"Welcome to my world," The Shadow spoke.
"Thanks," Burke said. "What's my first duty?"
"You will work as a newspaperman. You will keep me informed of the latest reports on crime and corruption. Go to a man tomorrow… George Clarendon at The New York Classic. He has a job waiting for you there."
"Oh, wow. Thanks Shadow."
"Thank me with your obedience, Burke. Now, I must go," The Shadow notified as he moved effortlessly to the window.
"How will I find you?" the reporter questioned.
"You will be contacted when you are needed. A man named Burbank will be in touch with you soon."
Without warning the ominous black form of The Shadow leapt from the window and melted into the darkness. Clyde Burke raced to the window to look for him but The Shadow was gone.
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