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Fan Fiction: Short Stories
Chapter 4 - The Arrival
The following evening was an extremely cool night. In fact, this promised to be one of the coolest nights Torrenceville had ever seen. Darkness was beginning to fall, as a hulking black Buick trudged slowly up to the curb in front of The Happy Inn. As the car stopped, out stepped the driver, a tall lanky African-American man with a mild limp. As quickly as possible, he hobbled to the other side of his vehicle and let out a man and woman. "There you is Sir," he uttered to a tall, built man in a brown fedora. "And you Miss. I'll get your bags," he promised as he helped a stunning, sandy-blonde woman exit the car. "Hey, I'm sorry Sir, but I forgot your name," the scatterbrained gentleman replied, retrieving his client's bags. "Oh that's fine my good man," replied the gentleman with the fedora. "I am Lamont Cranston, and this is my friend, Margo Lane. We're here on vacation." "Oh very good Sir, you and the lady be sure to enjoy your stay," the man offered as he finished unloading Margo Lane's bags. With that he was off to check their luggage at the front desk. As they briefly stood beside the old Buick, Margo Lane gave Lamont Cranston a very weird stare. They hadn't been in Torrenceville very long, and already she was getting nervous. Cranston felt it too. If for any moment, the people at the motel knew what they were really doing here, investigating mysterious murders, then they would surely not be as friendly. Cranston and Margo headed inside the place and gave their names separately, as to not attract any attention. As Cranston and Margo approached the front desk, he heard one of the motel clerks say to another, "Ah, more Yanks. Why not show 'em a room." With that, the middle-aged woman that first checked Harry Vincent in was assisting Cranston. "Welcome to the Happy Inn, may I have your name?" "I am Lamont Cranston, uh I'm here on vacation." "Oh yes, you called yesterday. We've set you up in Room Twelve. And you are?" the clerk asked, staring at Margo. "Margo Lane, a friend of old Cranston's here," she pronounced with a slight giggle. "Okay, you'll be set in Room Eight." "Thank you," Margo offered, but before she knew it, the clerk had left the front desk. She looked around for Cranston and then suddenly she saw him. He was headed toward the bar. He'll be fine there for a couple of hours, while I unpack, she thought to herself. Without warning to Cranston or anyone else, she trailed off to Room Eight and began unpacking. Moments passed, as Cranston had met up with Harry Vincent and his partner for this mission, John Rowe. They were all seated at the bar, having drinks and making conversation. "Gee Lamont it sure is good that you're here. This is a friend I met here while on vacation. Lamont meet John Rowe from the larger city of Charlotte," Harry introduced. "It's good to meet you Mr. Cranston," John Rowe suggested politely. "Likewise Mr. Rowe. I get the strangest feeling that I've met you somewhere before. Oh it's probably just a shadow's intuition." "What's that Lamont?" Harry questioned. "Oh nothing Harry. Just small talk." "Say Lamont, I hope you don't mind if I steal Margo away from you later. I've got some business to discuss with her." "Oh? What business might this be Harry?" Cranston quizzed, knowing full well why Harry needed to talk to Margo. She was to give him instructions from The Shadow as soon as possible "Oh nothing Lamont, just small talk. Say, where is the old gal anyway." Abruptly a voice boomed from across the room. "This old gal is right here. Harry Vincent I'm surprised at you." "Margo, it's good to see you," Harry smiled. "John Rowe meet Margo Lane." "How do you do Sir?" Margo smiled at the attractive man seated beside Harry. "Yes, how do you do?" John Rowe uttered with a smile. "Listen Margo, I wanted to talk to you about something. Could we go up to my room for a few moments?" "Sure Harry, but what's this about?" "I'll tell you when we get there. Just c'mon," Harry sounded impatient. "Alright, let's go," Margo said, putting her arm into Harry's. All of a sudden, the two walked arm in arm to the elevator, en route to Harry's room for some clandestine information swapping. The truth was that all four of them, John Rowe included, knew what Harry and Margo were going to talk about. Still for whatever reason, The Shadow had chosen to not disclose his alter ego as Lamont Cranston to either Harry or John Rowe. "If you'll excuse me John," Cranston said, as he watched Harry and Margo disappear into the motel's elevator. "I think I'm going to retire to my room for the night and unpack. I'll see you tomorrow." "Of course Lamont, I'll be seeing you." John Rowe knew that even if Cranston was going to his room for the night, his own night was just beginning. At any moment now, Harry would return from his room with news from the Shadow. Harry had made John aware, the night before, of the fact that Margo was really an agent of The Shadow. Somehow he felt that with the arrival of Margo Lane and Cranston to the sleepy little town of Torrenceville that the Shadow was about to make an appearance. Minutes later, Cranston was in his room unpacking. He had turned on the radio and was tuned in to some local news station. Cranston sat on his bed, listening intently: In local news, the police thought it was over. With no reports of anyone missing in nearly two weeks, they thought the mysterious murderer was finished. Six new deaths have happened since yesterday. The police have still not made any connection. What is this little town coming to? We have… Excuse me folks, this just in. We have reports of a disturbance of some kind at Homely Construction Site. Police are on their way there now…Cranston turned off the radio. He thought for a moment. There was no reason to involve The Shadow's agents on this. It didn't sound serious, but Cranston's curiosity was running wild. He knew what he had to do. He had to respond to this disturbance at the construction site, even if it was completely unrelated to the case of these mass murders. The moonlight was dim in Torrenceville, as a lone black figure intruded slowly on Torrenceville's Homely Construction Site. As the figure stepped out of the darkness, a quick splash of moonlight revealed The Shadow. There were four large men, apparently working on something. It was strange that these men chose the long abandoned Homely Construction Site to carry out whatever they were doing. The mere fact that they were using the cover of night made The Shadow suspicious. The Shadow moved closer to the center of the site. It wasn't easy to frighten the Master of Darkness, but what he saw at that moment was truly shocking. He stood in awe at the four men, who were dismembering human corpses. The bodies were long dead and for whatever reason, they resembled failed medical experiments. Suddenly, cold, hollow laughter sounded all around the men. Each froze at the noise. "What's that?" one of the burly men spoke. "There back from the dead," another spoke. "These bodies. Their ghosts have come to finish us off." "Quiet, quiet. Your imagination is runnin' away with ya' man. No it's somethin' else." "Ha ha ha ha ha. It is something else gentlemen," The Shadow spoke. "Where the hell are you? Come out," one of them ordered. "I'm right here gentlemen. I will you not to see me. And yet you hear my voice." "Who are you?" another asked. "I go by many names. But men like you know me as The Shadow." "How did you know where to find us? Oh God, Delilah's gonna have our heads." "I heard of this disturbance on the radio news. As we speak, the police are on their way. You will all be put away for a very long time." "He is lying boys. This place is haunted. Let's get out of here." "You're not going anywhere. As I suspected, you do work for the one called Delilah. Tell me of her plan," The Shadow demanded. "Never," one of the men persisted. "Let's go," one of the men declared. With that, all of the burly men began to run out of the site. Abruptly, a burst of wind overcame each man, as The Shadow punched each left and right. With each attack from the Shadow, every man danced violently across the dirty construction area, until finally they all fell simultaneously on top of each other in a pile. "Now gentlemen, you will cooperate. Tell me of Delilah. Look into my girasol and tell me all," The Shadow commanded, waving his fiery opal ring, from his left hand, in front of the men. "Yes, I will tell you all," one of the men agreed, standing up from the pile of thugs. "Delilah is our leader. We are part of her army. She plans to reanimate enough corpses to build an army and take over the town." "Reanimate?" The Shadow marveled, not believing his ears. "That's impossible you fool. No one can bring life back from the dead." "She has a secret. It has worked before. We are part of her undead army." "You delusional twit… You're lying." "No, we were dead," the man shouted defensively. Suddenly, blue and red lights flashed from across the way. The Shadow glanced, seeing approaching police cars. The Shadow had to get out of there. He couldn't risk being caught by police. He quickly took cover behind some beams. Returning to the darkness, he had once again vanished into the dusk. Three police cars quickly parked near the edge of the construction site. Policemen charged out of their cars, into the site, seeing some of the bodies and the men, rounded up by The Shadow. "Stop, you're under arrest," one of the cops declared. Swiftly and easily, the three policemen rounded up the four men, who seemed to be affected by a weird hypnosis. They barely even struggled, for they were still under the trance of The Shadow's mysterious ring. |
© copyright 2003 - Present
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