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Fan Fiction: Short Stories
Chapter 2
"BUT how did the glass break?" Lamont Cranston came out of his office on the thirtieth floor and headed down the hall to the elevators. A janitor sweeping up glanced over with a smile. "Evening, Mister Cranston," he said. He returned the smile. "Evening, Joe." "I guess your personal elevator's working fine. Repair guy just left about fifteen minutes ago." Lamont looked at him in confusion. "Really. I didn't know there was anything wrong with it." The janitor just shrugged and went back to work. Lamont opened the elevator with his key and stepped in, pressing the button for the bottom floor. He absent-mindedly adjusted the ruby ring on the fourth finger of his left hand, wondering when and if The Shadow would have to get involved with this Nostromos character. He glanced up at the panel above the doors as the lighted numbers slowly marked his descent. The elevator suddenly jolted to a stop, throwing Lamont back. He put his hands out to steady himself. "What was that?" he asked quietly. He thought he heard a noise, and instinct caused him to look up. The elevator suddenly dropped a single floor and stopped with a violent jolt that threw Lamont to the floor. He hurried to his feet as he began to hear more noises. He punched the red emergency button, but the alarm didn't ring. He pressed another button, any button, but nothing seemed to be working. He looked up again, hearing the clattering of a tool, as if it had been dropped. "Somebody's upstairs," he said quietly. Crouching beside the heavy piece of machinery that operated the private elevator, Lucas Freewell finished setting the explosive charge and stood. He stood as the bomb began it's countdown and hurried away. As he reached the roof access door moments later, he turned with his hand on the knob as he heard the explosion, followed by the fading sound of scraping metal as the elevator rocketed down the shaft to the ground more than twenty floors below. He smiled and turned the handle, stepping out onto the roof. A piece of cake, he thought to himself as he crossed the gravel roof. He had a sly smirk on his face that quickly disappeared at the sound of laughter. No other laugh had struck such fear into him, and he immediately felt worried. He spun around. "Who's there? Who is that?" He strained to see through the darkness as the laughing continued. "You tried to kill Lamont Cranston," a strange voice suddenly said. "I asked you a question!" Lucas shouted, still turning in circles. "Who are you?" The voice laughed again before saying, "I'm the one thing you can never run away from. The one thing that is always with you, no matter what time it is, no matter where you go, no matter how far you run. The one thing that is with you from the day you are born to the day you die. The Shadow." Hearing that, Luca's eyes widened, and he wasted no time breaking into a sprint across the roof. The laughing seemed to follow him. He gasped for air as his legs pumped, racing over the roof, dodging junction boxes and other rooftop obstacles. "You don't think you can escape The Shadow, do you?" More laughing. The man was in a virtual panic as he scrambled across the roof, looking everywhere for a possible means of escape. "Did you think you'd get away with it?" Lucas skidded to a halt as he rounded a junction box and found himself on the edge of the roof. Five inches away, it was a thirty-five story drop to the sidewalk below. Another brief burst of laughter and then, "Looks like you're out of places to run." He turned from edge and looked around the darkness. "I'm not afraid of you! You hear me? I'm not afraid of The Shadow!" There came no response. He could hear nothing but his own panting. He looked around through the darkness, head tilted slightly, listening. Nothing. Nothing but the wind. Did The Shadow leave? Or was he playing a trick of some kind? Lucas stood motionless for nearly five minutes waiting to see, but still saw or heard no signs that The Shadow was still out there somewhere. His breathing finally under control, he breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his head in exhaustion. When he opened his eyes, he noticed there was another pair of feet, inches from his own. He looked up slowly, his eyes traveling up a pair of legs that disappeared into a black coat, which in turn gave way to a wide-brimmed hat covering a half-hidden face and a hawk-like nose. A large cape billowed out behind the intimidating figure. "Hello, Lucas," the voice of The Shadow said. The man could barely speak, feeling his breath leaving him again, but he managed to get out, "How . . . how do you know my, my name?" If it hadn't been for the darkness, Lucas would have sworn he saw the slightest trace of a smile form behind the red scarf that hid the lower-half of the imposing man's face. "The Shadow knows," came the reply, followed by a laugh. Lucas started to scream, but two black-gloved hands seem to appear out of nowhere and grab him by the collar, shoving him right back to the edge. He screamed and clutched The Shadow's wrists. "Oh, God, please! Please, don't drop me! Don't drop me!" "Tell me what I need to know." "Okay, okay! I'll tell you anything! Anything!" "Who sent you to kill Lamont Cranston?" "No. No, I can't. He'll, he'll kill me if I tell you." "You'll kill yourself if you don't," The Shadow said, holding him closer to the edge. "Who sent you?" Struggling to stay on the roof, keeping a grip on the hands holding him, and keeping his breath, he said, "It . . . it was . . . " Before he could get the answer out, a sudden gust of wind swept over the roof, knocking Lucas into the Shadow. The dark figure stumbled back, loosing his grip on the man. The wind suddenly changed direction and knocked into Lucas, who screamed as he went back. He threw his hand out to reach for something, grabbing a handful of The Shadow's cape, and pulled him over the edge with him. Lucas fell screaming, The Shadow above him. Both landed in a window washing cart suspended five stories down. The cart shook violently, rocking side to side as the two men scrambled to their feet. Lucas charged screaming, his foot catching The Shadow in the ribs and knocking him against the side of the cart. The Shadow came back toward him, but Lucas grabbed him by the shoulders and fell to his back, using his legs and The Shadow's own momentum to flip him out of the cart. The Shadow reached out as he swung over and managed to grab a safety cable dangling from the cart. Gripping it tightly, he continued to fall until the slack was pulled taunt, and he found himself hanging six floors below the cart, dangling in the wind like a fish on the end of a string. Lucas looked over and shouted down, "Nobody beats me, Shadow! I'd offer to help you back up, but I have to get back now!" He picked up a metal bucket from the cart and began swinging it at the window. Below, the Shadow was struggling to climb up the cable, moving slowly. He heard the shattering of glass, and shards rained down around him. When he looked up, the cart was empty, and Lukas Freewell was gone. The next morning in Nostromos' office at the ceremonial meeting hall, Lucas said, "No one could have predicted The Shadow would have saw me. Not even the great Nostromos. Besides, how do you know Cranston survived?" Nostromos turned from the window. "Because the radio said he managed to get off the elevator right before it fell, you pathetic amateur." "Well, you didn't predict he would die exactly." "Fool!" He moved around the desk toward him. "Can't you see how his death would have effected the brotherhood? How vulnerable they would have felt. We could have finally hit them for all they're worth." The phone began to ring. He walked to his desk, took a deep breath to calm himself, then answered. "Peace to all," he said calmly. The voice on the other end said, "Nostromos, it's Larry Berman. I must see you at once. It's about Lamont Cranston." "Lamont Cranston?" he repeated, eyeing Lucas. "Yes. A miracle has happened. Lamont has seen the light." That evening, Nostromos was at the Cranston Estate. Lamont was sitting on the edge of the couch in the study, holding his face in his hands. Larry was sitting beside him, a hand on his friend's back as if for emotional support. "It wasn't until that moment," Lamont said, looking up, "that I came so close to death, that I realized you really did have a divine connection. To think I ridiculed you. Can you ever forgive me?" Nostromos walked over with a friendly smile. "Of course." He took Lamont's hands in his and said, "Forgiveness is divine. I rejoice in your soaring consciousness." Larry stood. "Nostromos, I was thinking. A man of Lamont's standing is influential. Should he not be considered for the brotherhood?" Nostromos looked up as if realizing something, then looked at Larry. "Yes. Yes, it's pre-ordained." He put a hand atop Lamont's head. "Welcome, Brother Lamont." "No! Not Lamont!" Margo Lane exclaimed as she came into the room. Lamont stood, wishing he had had the chance to explain things to her. "Margo, you, uh, you don't understand." "Oh, I understand alright, Lamont. I thought you would have seen it, but you're just like all the others. Suckered in by this money-grubbing bogus creep." "Margo," Larry said. "You know what my inner voice tells me, Nostromos? You've ripped off your last victim." With that she turned and left the room angrily. Larry stepped up behind Nostromos. "I'm so sorry. I--" He held up a hand. "Do not apologize. She will believe. They will all believe. After the Great Fall." As Larry drove, he said, "You may have joined us just in time, Lamont. For months now, Nostromos has been warning the brotherhood of an economic collapse in the West." "The Great Fall?" "Exactly. But at Nostromos' direction, we've set up a fund to protect ourselves. After the Fall, we can use it not only to rebuild our fortune, but society as well." "And I take it Nostromos controls this money?" "Oh, no. He can't touch it without my written approval. Nostromos insisted that everything be above board." Lamont nodded. "Of course." Nostromos stood before the gathered brotherhood. "And though tonight we bask in the radiance of Brother Lamont's conversion, it grieves me to burden your spirits with solemn news as well." He paused for affect. "The Great Fall is at hand." There was scattered murmuring among the brotherhood members. Outside the meeting hall, a car turned off it's lights as it approached. Pulling beside a growth of bushes, the engine turned off, and the driver climbed out. Shutting the door quietly and glancing about, Margo Lane hurried across the lot, moving down the side of the building. Around the back corner, she found a window that was held open by a book standing on end. She glanced about, then raised the window slightly and slipped in. She came out of the room and into a hall. Looking up and down the corridor, she saw no one and shut the door quietly, moving down the hall. Rounding a corner, she suddenly heard muffled talking. She approached a door and carefully looked in through through the window. It was a control room of some kind. On the opposite wall, a small window looked into the meeting hall. She saw Nostromos standing before the brotherhood, arms held out as he moved around the dais talking. A man was sitting before the control board, which sported a variety of buttons, knobs, and levers. Nostromos moved around his throne as he talked. His body partially concealed from the brotherhood, he quickly attached a small clip to a hook protruding through the back of his robes from a harness underneath. He walked back around to stand before the throne and raised his arms. "The omen arises to converge with every passing moment. Yes, my brethren. The inner voice speaks." From outside the control room, Margo watched as Lucas pulled down a level . . . . . . and the brotherhood gasped as Nostromos lifted off the ground, appearing to be floating into the air, hovering at least ten feet above the floor. "I now see a dawn of destruction. Crime. Pillaging. Carnage. A society out of control. Oh, the torment. The suffering." In the control room, Lucas sat with his hand on the control lever, waiting for his cue. "The vision becomes clear. Brothers, beware . . ." Lucas returned the level to its previous position, and Nostromos was lowered to the ground quickly, falling to his side as if collapsing from exhaustion. Sensing something, Lucas turned to look back at the door, but through the small window, saw nothing. Nostromos groaned slightly, stirring. He put a hand to his hand. "I am fine," he said. He slowly got to his feet, disconnecting the clip from his harness loop and turning to face the front row. "Brethren, you must transfer all you can to the brotherhood's fund by tomorrow. The stars are in their proper confluence. The omens abound." Margo quietly approached the door again and peered inside. The room was empty. She gasped as a hand grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. Lucas asked, "Looking for something?" Nostromos was in the heat of his performance, arms flailing as he spoke. "Now I predict a massive social upheaval. This is the end of the old order. Anarchy and chaos will abound. The Great Fall has begun." |
© 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