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Fan Fiction: Short Stories
Chapter 3 - Chasing Twilight
The next day was starting off slow, as Harry Vincent sat eating his complimentary breakfast in his room. As he finished his bacon and eggs, he heard much commotion outside, as the group of mysterious men who had checked in the night before were preparing to leave. "Alright everyone, let's go," a voice boomed from right outside Harry's door. Harry gave a quick glance at the clock on the wall. It was only 11:45 am. He waited until it sounded quiet enough to peek out, then opened the door and stepped out into the hall. He couldn't believe it. The men he had been so carefully pursuing were gone. He quickly dashed back into his room, only to grab his overcoat. He locked the door to his room and made a mad dash for the elevator. Upon arriving on the first floor, he stepped into the lobby and saw Billy-Jack exiting the motel lobby. Waiting until he was gone, Harry went to the front desk and signed out, assuring the overly friendly motel clerk that he would return soon. He stepped outside noticing two black cars pulling away from the motel. Suddenly, pulling up to the curb was a green Packard sedan. Recognizing the driver as John Rowe, Harry quickly entered the car just before John Rowe hit the gas, causing the car to speed away in hot pursuit. The chase was on, as the Packard followed the black cars out of the vicinity of the Happy Inn motel, onto a remote access road. "Nice of you to join the party," John exclaimed. "Yeah so I was a little cautious. You can't be too careful. I didn't want them to get suspicious of us. Don't drive too close," Harry countered, as they leisurely stalked the cars ahead. "I got it, don't worry," John Rowe countered, getting a bit testy. As the Packard trailed down a long, winding country road, it stalled suddenly, as the pair of cars carrying the suspicious quarry weren't far ahead. Veering left onto a side road that resembled a long driveway, the two black cars soon vanished from sight. The Packard remained stationary, sitting somewhat behind the side access that the other cars had just taken. Then, like a bat out of hell, the Packard came to life once more, veering, shooting across to the side road. Once the car gained speed, it continued pursuit until finally, the pair of black cars suddenly came into view. They were parked at the end of the road, which from the looks of it was a cul-de-sac. The men they had been tailing were gone. Whoever these men were, it was clear that they were up to something. Once again halting the Packard far behind the other cars, the two men sat deliberating. Suddenly a gasp escaped John Rowe's lips. "That's their cars, but where do you think they've gone?" "I don't know but look over there," Harry uttered, matching the astonishment of his accomplice then pointing out the passenger side window, to a large cabin, just beyond a hill to the right of the road. "Well that must be the place." "The cabin they had talked about! So what do we do now?" John Rowe questioned enthusiastically. "Well we could explore the grounds, or we could go back to the motel and wait." "We've done enough waiting," John Rowe uttered in frustration at his partner. "We should look around and report our findings to The Shadow." "That sounds good John. All right, we'll split up," Harry offered, checking his pocket watch. "We'll meet back here at the car in one half hour, and figure out what to do from there." "Agreed," John Rowe exclaimed, briefly eyeing his own timepiece. With discussion ended, Harry sauntered up the road, trying his best to stay undetected. John Rowe watched as his colleague disappeared up the hill. Thinking quickly, he reached under the front seat of the old Packard and pulled out a hefty revolver. He rapidly exited the car, and then making sure his mediocre automobile was locked, started in the opposite direction of Harry, straying left of the road into a clearing surrounded by some bare, uninviting backwoods. A short hike from the base of the hill found Harry staring in awe at a monolithic, yet decrepit structure. He stood before the cabin that the suspicious group that he was following had talked about. It was a massive, single story edifice, made completely of old logs that were reinforced by cinder blocks and cement. Had it been of any greater quality, the building might even be called a manor. There were no windows, only four extensive, solid walls that seemed to go on as far as the eye could see. The front of the cabin boasted a wide front porch with a shabby staircase, made from a weird amalgamation of wood and concrete, which lead directly to the structure's only door. He hadn't noticed it from the road, but Harry spotted something far behind the structure. A drab iron fence, the kind only synonymous with ghost stories and haunted houses, lined the remainder of the grungy property behind the huge cabin. Harry stood, unsure of what to do next. It wasn't as if he could just walk into the cabin and take charge, but he had to try something. He suddenly approached the staircase and ascended to the porch. Hearing noise coming from inside, he silently put his ear to the door, only to hear the familiar voice of the old man, Billy-Jack. "Well Mistress Delilah, how long? How long until our army can wreak havoc on the town?" Suddenly at Billy-Jack's bizarre question, Harry heard a wickedly shrill, horrific voice respond from somewhere inside the cabin. "Patience Billy-Jack, this is not a game. Our army is almost complete, but we must continue to build it slowly, if we are to succeed. Tonight you will do more hunting. You and three of your best men will find more people. Bring whatever you find here, dispose of them and prepare them for the ritual of The Twilight's Kiss. They will then pledge their allegiance to The Order of Twilight and then will forever be my willing slave." "Yes Mistress, I will do as you command." "Oh and Billy-Jack, remember real people this time. No more grave robbing. They must have life if the ritual is to work." "Understood Mistress. I..." Before Billy-Jack could finish his sentence, a loud noise was heard at the front door, alerting nearly everyone to Harry's presence. "An intruder! Guards we have a visitor. Take care of 'em," the apparent master of the house, Mistress Delilah ordered. Harry was caught. His only choice was to run. He took a step, preparing to flee, but a large gray wolf with beady yellow eyes and grimy fur appeared from behind the cabin, obstructing his path to freedom. Harry dove from the porch steps and ran for his life, past the monstrous gray beast, sprinting with impressive speed down the astoundingly steep hill. As the wolf began to give chase, a random goon stepped outside the cabin and swiftly aimed a hunting rifle. With a near perfect shot, he pulled the trigger. Instantly, Harry fell to the ground. The goon had shot him in the leg. As the wolf approached, Harry cowered both in fear of the wolf and the pain from his newly received wound. The wolf's fangs shown with great intensity as the animal got ever closer to Harry. Then suddenly, with a swift jump, the beast lunged toward Harry. All may have been lost, had it not been for a second gunshot. But this time it wasn't Harry who had been shot. The wolf fell in mid-air, landing harshly on the ground. Harry glanced behind him, only to see John Rowe standing at the base of the hill with revolver in hand. The wolf stumbled, trying to get back on its feet. It glanced at Harry, giving a disgruntled growl, then staggered, falling to the ground. The beast was dieing. One shot to the head had finished it off. John Rowe helped Harry return to his feet, and the pair shuffled eagerly back to the Packard, still parked remotely, somewhere in front of the hill. Later, in Harry's room at the Happy Inn, Harry was listening to John Rowe's explanation of what he saw in the woods near the cabin. "And God was it horrible! I did well though Harry. I watched you go up the hill and thought you might be in trouble, so I grabbed my gun and I saw a clearing in the woods and so I go in the clearing a ways and come across a naked man with a headdress on, like one of those aborigine fellows and he's chanting something real weird like. I heard something about the Order of Twilight. And..." "Hold it John, The Order of Twilight? I heard the one they call Delilah mention something about that. I think that is what they call themselves," Harry informed. "Yeah, it sounds like some weird religion. Like a cult or something," John Rowe offered. "Maybe I better go make a phone call, what do you think John?" "Oh yeah, I get ya'. Good idea. I'll be in the bar," John Rowe declared as he grabbed his overcoat from the back of the door and the pair exited Harry's room en route to the elevator. As they boarded the elevator, they noticed some of the men from Room Sixteen exiting their room to enter the motel's upstairs restroom. Upon arriving at the first floor, John Rowe gave a hand gesture to Harry to acknowledge that he was going to the bar. "Right be on the lookout," Harry told his partner. "I'll join you in a moment." Without wasting time, Harry went to the lobby of the motel to ask about using a telephone. "Excuse me Miss," Harry recognized the clerk at the front desk. "Would it be too much trouble for me to use a telephone?" "Why not at all, Mr.?" the clerk couldn't remember Harry's name. "Vincent. Harry Vincent, agent of The Shadow," Harry felt like saying to the clerk. He felt like telling her the real reason he was here, on assignment. He wanted to tell her how he and his new agent friend had just cracked the case of these mysterious murders that had been plaguing Torrenceville, North Carolina. He wanted to tell her how a weird religious cult, led by a madwoman was killing people left and right for some weird reason or another. But instead all he could muster at this point was, "Oh I'm Harry Vincent." "Ah yes, Mr. Vincent. Its in the hallway just before the bar." "Thank you very much madam," Harry expressed brief gratitude before heading to the hallway." He picked up the receiver, and without thinking twice, he dialed a number that was listed in no telephone directory anywhere in the world. He was summoning his fellow agent, as well as chief contact man for The Shadow, Burbank. The line rang only once, followed by the frail voice of a middle-aged man on the other end. "Good evening, this is Burbank!" "Burbank, it's Harry. I need to report." Without reply, the line went dead, just before returning to life with three clicks, then a single ring. Harry knew that he had gained access to that most clandestine residence of The Shadow, his Secret Sanctum! "Report, tell me all," hissed a voice suddenly, from the other end of the phone line. And as he had done many times before, Harry Vincent began to lower his voice and report everything that had happened since his arrival in Torrenceville. "Well Boss, I arrived here and met John Rowe your agent from Charlotte. Some strange men showed up and we tailed them to a remote cabin in the middle of nowhere. There seems to be a cult that is responsible for the murders. They reside at the cabin and some live here at the motel. It's all part of a greater umbrella run by one called Delilah and the name of the cult appears to be The Order of the Twilight or something like that." "Good job agent. I may show up there myself. In the meantime, Agent Margo Lane and her friend Lamont Cranston are going there for a vacation. They arrive tomorrow. You and Agent Rowe must wait for further instructions. When Margo Lane shows up, she will provide you with them," the mysterious voice of The Shadow informed. "Thanks Boss. Harry Vincent out," Harry acknowledged, hanging up the phone. Harry felt much more at ease now that he had reported to The Shadow. He felt safe knowing that The Shadow was on his side. Now all that remained to do was wait for Margo Lane to arrive with further instructions. In the meantime, a trip to the bar couldn't hurt. |
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The Shadow: Master of Darkness
The Shadow is copyrighted by Advance Magazine Publishers, Inc. Disclaimer
The Shadow: Master of Darkness
The Shadow is copyrighted by Advance Magazine Publishers, Inc. Disclaimer