It began with _The_Shadow_...
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DESCENT INTO MYSTERY
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by Christopher Willmore
dedicated to R.L.
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credits follow at the end
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'All I needed was a spot in the light;
It never had to get so dark...'
...
It's not enough to make the nightmares go away
It's not enough to make the tears run dry...'
-From 'Original Sin' (Theme to 'The Shadow')
by Jim Steinman
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"More bo'cha, Mr. Cranston?"
The bound figure seated across from H'ing Kai Sek merely grunted,
and though his eyes were tightly bound by a scarf wrapped around his
head, the lowering of his eyebrows was unmistakable.
"Come, now. You are our GUEST, Lamont, at least for the next..."
The opium lord glanced at his watch. "The next five minutes. Some
butter tea might soothe your nerves. Are you sure you don't want any?"
He pushed a cup towards the American.
"I have nothing to say," was the only response, in a soft, gruff
voice.
"I'm not surprised... You've been quite the fool, Mr. Cranston.
You should have never tried to come back - not this route, anyhow. Now,
if you'd come in through Russia, we might not have detected you, but
through southern China? Tsk. From your own time in the business, you
should have known that that is where we have our largest stock of
distributors."
Another grunt.
"How sad... You are a legend, here. Once, even _I_ looked up to
you. And now... Now... Look at you! It seems all the Tulku taught
was weakness... The descendant of the Great Kahn was the first to
fall, and now, even the Butcher is reduced to-"
As Lamont launched himself towards his captor, the limousine came
to a halt, sending him flying against the other end of the compartment.
The chauffeur opened the door.
"We have arrived."
Still blindfolded and handcuffed, Lamont was led down a gently
sloping, rocky path. The area seemed to be deserted, with no sounds
but their footsteps echoing against what must be massive rock formations
in the vicinity.
At length, they halted.
"Mr. Cranston, this is where we say goodbye. Such a pity, really...
There was so much we could have learned, so much we could have ACHIEVED
if you had only accepted your true self, and joined with me."
"I've heard words similar to those before."
"Oh, good. You can talk. I was beginning to be afraid that the
purba had torn your vocal chords."
"I speak when I have something to say." The voice was cold, and the
syllables crisp and short. "One other spoke to me of that, and I gave
him the same answer I give you. The Butcher of Lhasa is gone."
"And only the Shadow remains? A pitiable excuse, Mr. Cranston -
you have everything a North American could want - money, power, a
woman..."
The Shadow tried a kick, but was blocked by the chauffeur.
"My apologies. You are quite correct. You no longer have a woman."
Kai Sek grinned and pulled a golden, triangular-bladed dagger from his
breast pocket. "Another mistake. You should never try to control the
purba when there are things present to cloud your mind. Was that not
the first rule of the Tulku?"
"You monster..."
"And the last. Keto, silence him." The chauffer nodded and
pulled a length of cloth from his pocket, with which he gagged the man.
"His feet, too, please. I want no more delays. We have a shipment to
inspect." Speedily, handcuffs were placed around the Shadow's legs,
rendering him fully immobile.
H'ing Kai Sek looked around himself, and smiled. "This area floods
dreadfully in the spring... The view in the summer and fall is beautiful,
with many miniature lakes complementing the bonsai-like trees, and with
the cliffs... But for now, it's just a bog... A cold, deep, bog... And
THIS, Mr. Cranston, is where you will meet your end. If you refused
to glory in the murk of your own soul, it is only right that you
should die embraced by flowing filth. The natives call this place
the 'Pool of Sorrow'. Fitting, don't you think? One push, and Lamont
Cranston will be gone, and nothing will remain, but his Shadow.
Adieu."
A nod, a push, and it was done. The chill of particles of earth
and algae suspended in the water hit Lamont's skin, permeating his
clothes. The added weight dragged him deeper, and as he sank, he
thought he could hear the laughter of his enemies.
* * * * *
But then, he began to rise...
<How... Why...>
He tried to think, tried to find out what was happening to him,
but the breath he had taken before plunging into the bog had been small,
and he was quickly running out of oxygen.
Desperately, he struggled upwards, waving his arms, trying to free
his legs... And he succeeded. As if by magic, the handcuffs binding
his limbs enlarged, and he was able to slip them off. The water
itself seemed to slide off his skin, and he swam upwards, away from
the darkness, towards the light...
At length, he reached the surface. His strength spent, he took a
breath and collapsed on the bank, sinking into a deep sleep, in which
he dreamt of black, and red.
* * * * *
It had been night when he awoke, and night would it be for the
rest of his existence - there'd be no sun for him.
His first reaction had been to scream, then cry. Yes, even he! Even
the Butcher, the Shadow, the playboy millionaire! He'd cried, as he'd
looked down at what he had become... But soon, familiar instincts had
taken over...
<No...> he'd thought. Not what he'd BECOME... What THEY had MADE
him...
THEY had hurt him...
THEY had done this to him...
THEY would pay.
His old emotional reflexes kicked in, and all his mental blocks,
all his training, was for naught, as his mind focused only on REVENGE...
Yes, they would pay...
And so would every other evil-doer, every law-breaker, drug-dealer,
smuggler, all those who served their shadows he'd destroy, for forcing
him to be obedient to his.
They wanted him to relish in his dark side?
So be it.
Every shred of his former self, every bit of his humanity was gone,
destroyed.
The Butcher of Lhasa had been dissipated by the Tulku's influence,
Lamont had died when Marion had been murdered, and the Shadow had been
killed by H'ing Kai Sek. He was a new entity, a phoenix reborn from
the ashes of the old, and with his new-found wings, his Dark Wings, he
would be a servant of the Light...
Oh, they'd regret the things they'd done...
They'd regret them every moment of their lives...
Whenever they had business to attend to, whenever they thought
they had time for pleasure, he'd be there to make sure that nothing
went right.
He'd be the salt in their coffee, the stain in their suit, the
child-proof medicine bottle that only those under six could open...
There was no time to waste. He had to start as soon as possible.
He who had been Lamont Cranston adjusted his hat and pulled his
cloak about himself, squeezing some of the little remaining water from
it. As a final touch, he poked two holes into his scarf and tied it '
round his head, to emphasise his eyes - they were all that he had left
of his previous self - and hide the remainder of his transformed
visage... With the closest thing to a smile that his beak could
manage, he started up the path back to civilisation.
"Let's... Get... Dangerous..." he muttered, to no one but
himself, and the cliffs echoed his mad cackling for hours afterward.
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The Shadow (c) Advance Magazine Publishers Inc.
Darwing Duck (c) The Disney Company
Jusenkyo and associated effects created by Takahashi-sama
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Note: Just in case you haven't figured it out, when Jusenkyo flooded,
the SOD Man and SOD Duck waters mixed, and Cranston fell into just
the right spot... :)
And... The title is a tribute to Danny Elfman... (Who DIDN'T write
the Shadow score). It's the name of one of the tracks on the
'Batman' score.
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Interfector beluam Ecclesia Ryougis.
Custos tabula nomina Franka Ecclesia Azusis.
C.A.S.K.E.T. | http://qlink.queensu.ca/~4cw6/
4cw6@qlink.queensu.ca