The author acknowledges that the name, concept, and descriptions of DAREDEVIL
are owned by Marvel Comics and that said owner retains complete rights to said
character. These concepts are used WITHOUT permission for NO PROFIT, but rather
a strong desire to tell my own tales about a character I've enjoyed over the
years. This also acknowledges that original concepts presented here are the
intellectual property of the author.
The dance is about to begin again.
The storm raged into Hell's Kitchen with a vengeance, and the streets were
quickly clearing of respectable people as the pattering droplets and whispering
winds of the late afternoon gave way to icy torrents of rain and howling gales
of the early evening. The light gray of the charcoal stained stormclouds
evolved into a dark soup of ink drenched cotton that settled angrily over the
night skies of New York. The shadows yawned and stretched and spread themselves
out, covering the sinners and saints, the wicked and the just, the kings and the
paupers with the same blanket.
He stands alone, the wind flows around him, the rain kisses his skin hungrily -
like a lover. He's ready, waiting, eager to begin, but he takes the time to
absorb his surroundings. Waiting for the right moment to begin the ballet once
more.
For some, the work day has ended. The trek home from the job winds up in the
warmth of home and hearth, the comfort of friends and family, the tenderness of
a lover's embrace, or quiet solitude with a good book, the radio or television.
For many of New York's citizens, the city that never sleeps slows down just
enough for everyone to catch their breath and relax before the dawn returns and
the cycle begins anew.
Lightning flashes from above, he tastes it as it cleaves the skies - a split
second tear across the gray-black expanse. He smiles, the spotlight has been
lit, the stage has been set.
He merely waits for his cue...
Elena McCullah was about to lock up her father's grocery store, grateful that
this would be the last day she'd have to cover for him. Elena's mother and
father were returning from their vacation to California, a gift from Elena and
her brothers, Trent and Virgil, for their thirtieth wedding anniversary, and she
was closing early so she could meet her parents at the airport. Elena was a
slender woman, twenty six years young, and beautiful for someone who didn't put
too much stock in her looks. Her mother was of Jamaican descent, which is where
she got her exotic features, big hazel eyes and dancer's build; from her father,
Elena inherited a slight southern drawl, caramel colored skin, and quiet
disposition. Even beyond the hard streets of the Kitchen, Elena turned many
heads without trying or even noticing, her love affair was with education and
what Elena considered beautiful was usually found between the covers of books
written by her idols, Maya Angelou, Nikki Giovanni, Ralph Ellison and many
others. She had aspirations of becoming an author in her own right someday and
had begun several manuscripts that evolved as she learned more from her courses
at NYU. Elena's parents were already predicting great things for their
daughter's future and offered her all the support they could.
It had been a while since Elena worked in the store, and she had never done it
alone, but both of her brothers were policemen which left little time for them
to tend the counter. Both had stuck their heads in the door over the last few
days to check on her, especially with the rash of hold ups that had hit the
neighborhood lately. If they stayed more than fifteen minutes, Elena would put
them to work, so the visits tapered off as the days passed without incident.
Elena smirked to herself as she remembered making Virgil watch the counter in
full uniform with an apron on over it. Both of Elena's brothers put up some
form of mock protest, but did what she asked with the usual playful banter and
name calling that siblings always did in a close knit family.
All through her childhood, Elena spent every afternoon after school here,
helping her father and brothers, her father playing jazz by Miles, Dizzy, Bird;
telling his children stories of seeing these musical giants in his youth when he
courted their mother. Elena found herself humming some half forgotten melody
from one of those old songs, allowing herself to be a little girl once more.
Elena, still humming to herself, was about to go to the door to turn the locks
and then count out the money from the register when she heard a scuffling noise
and the tinkle of the bell on the door.
Five young men in dark colored hooded coats stood in the doorway. The lighting
of the store, the gloom of the deserted, rainsoaked streets outside and the fact
that the hoods were pulled low over their faces, obscured their features, Elena
couldn't make out too much beyond the fact that they had chins and at least one
of them held a gun. The scream came from Elena's lips before the realization
that the store was being robbed.
"Shut her ass up!" one of the gangsters hissed angrily. The lead man with the
gun aimed and fired, the roar of the gun drowned out by another flash of
lightning accompanied by booming thunder.
Outside, and far away, he cocked his head and listened, his body already moving
to follow the sound back to the source. He had chosen a rooftop that gave him
the best vantage point to take the stage, to dance once again with danger, to
tempt fate with the gifts and talents he possessed. He traveled once more where
angels feared to tread, but where a man without fear was as bad as facing the
devil himself.
Matt Murdock, clad in the crimson garb of Daredevil, launched himself from the
edge of the roof and into the night to protect those who couldn't protect
themselves.
*****************************************************
DAREDEVIL - THE MAN WITHOUT FEAR
In DEVIL IN THE DARK
Written by Ali
Daredevil created by Stan Lee and Lee Elias
*****************************************************
Daredevil spun wildly into the air, unseeing eyes hidden behind blood red
lenses, using his enhanced senses and incredible agility to cross the distance
between his rooftop perch and scream he pulled out of the hundreds of other
random sounds that permeated the air around him. Unlike most of his peers in
the world of costumed vigilantes, Daredevil was unique. As a child, Matt
Murdock grew up on the streets of Hell's Kitchen, his father, Battlin' Jack
Murdock, was a boxer who raised Matt to be compassionate but tough. Jack
Murdock made a vow to his son; that Matt wouldn't live the same kind of life he
did, that Matt would have all the chances that Jack didn't get to succeed. Matt
became an exceptional student and despite his father's concerns, an equally
exceptional athlete. Jack raised his son to have a sense of morality, fair play
and ethics despite the elder Murdock's ties to organized crime. One of Matt's
more selfless acts cost him more than he expected, but gave him more than he
bargained for.
Matt still remembers with unusual clarity the day he lost use of his eyes. He
remembers every feature of the elderly blind man's clothing, the spots of rust
on the right front fender of the truck that barreled out of control at the man,
the number of scrapes on his hand after he had dove into the old man and pushed
both of them to safety, the Daily Bugle billboard on the wall that the truck ran
into, even the shade and intensity of the green tinted radioactive isotope that
struck his eyes moments after he thought he was safe. What Matt remembers most
from that day was the blackness that followed, immediate and never-ending.
Though Matt had lost his sight, he had awakened in a hospital with all of his
other senses amplified to superhuman levels. Touch, taste, smell, hearing; all
were incredibly sensitive, the initial realization of his newfound abilities
nearly drove Matt mad and almost overwhelmed him, but slowly he gained control
over his senses and discovered that he had acquired something new as well. Matt
called his newfound ability his "radar sense", for lack of a better phrase, an
invisible force emanating from him, which gave him a 360 degree scope of his
surroundings. These abilities combined with Matt's heightened reflexes and
agility made him more formidable than most sighted men of equal physical
prowess. Matt learned to cope with his disability and continued to pursue his
education, eventually enrolling in law school.
While Matt studied, Battlin' Jack kept up his work for the mob. Enforcer by
day, Jack Murdock found release for his own frustration at life by boxing during
the nights. Jack began to make a name for himself in the ring once again,
scoring victories against younger men he shouldn't have been able to beat. Jack
chalked his sudden success to his desire to stay a hero in his son's eyes, Matt
was the one good thing he had left, the one person he wanted to make proud.
Unfortunately for Jack, his world fell apart with the revelation that his rise
to the top in the ring had been engineered by the Fixer, a small time mobster
and book maker who wanted Jack to take a fall in the biggest fight of his
career.
Jack Murdock may have been a loser all of his life, but he wasn't going to be a
quitter. Not in front of his son, not ever again.
Jack's victory that night would've made the headlines if it wasn't for his
murder that same evening. There was barely enough of Jack left recognizable for
positive identification. The battered, bloody mess that the police found in the
alley behind the boxing arena had to be identified by dental records, the
killer's name may as well have been signed in blood over the corpse. Matt
Murdock never shed a tear, he never showed any sign of grief outwardly, but his
desire for revenge burned like blast furnace. On that night, Daredevil was born
and the underworld had learned to fear the man who had no fear whatsoever.
Daredevil's radar sense was a little fuzzy this evening, severe weather
sometimes gave his radar trouble, making the impressions less defined, like snow
on a television. The scarlet clad hero's other senses were working overtime to
compensate for his less accurate radar. His body twisted in the air,
Daredevil's hyper-sensitive hearing strained to hear the wind as it swept around
solid objects, the rain as it struck rooftops, the hoods of cars, the few people
left on the sidewalk and the streets below. Daredevil's sense of smell sorted
out the various scents from one another, attempting to pick up some trace of a
scent that may lead him to the gun he heard fired. On a crosswind, Daredevil
picked up the faint scent of cordite, he changed the angle of his latest flip so
that his next bounce would carry him in the direction of the place where the
shots may have been fired. The scent grew stronger as Daredevil went, he knew
he'd be there soon.
Elena had managed to drop behind the counter as the first shot was fired. She
rolled back behind the counter, heading towards the back office, where her
father kept his revolver. Trent, Virgil and her father had taught her how to
shoot, if necessary, she'd do what she have to do to stay alive and protect her
daddy's livelihood.
"Look here, girl!" one of the gang bangers shouted as Elena made it to the
office, "Come on out, we ain't gonna hurt you!"
Elena responded by firing a few warning shots from behind the half opened office
door. The resulting shots scattered the gang bangers, behind shelves and
counters, seeking the nearest safe haven. The banger with the gun lay down
covering fire which forced Elena to scream again as the wood of the doorway
shattered over her head. Two more bangers pulled a pair of semi-automatics and
prepared to pepper the doorway with enough bullets to make certain that the
young woman would not be able to give the police any kind of information. Even
with the weather working to their advantage, all of the shooting that had
happened would be investigated sooner or later. What they didn't consider was
just how soon someone would come to investigate the situation.
Daredevil didn't bother with a warning, his radar sense had already mapped out a
sketchy floorplan, allowing him enough time to formulate his plan of attack.
His final spring from the roof towards the store's entrance was heralded by his
primary weapon of choice, a specially made billy club which was resilient enough
to ricochet from the wall over the cash register and strike down the gunman who
had chosen to hide behind a rack of snack cakes. The club hit the thug in the
temple with just enough force to drop the man and carom into the gun hand of one
of the other shooters who had just registered the billy club's entry into the
situation. His yelp became a scream as his dropped gun misfired into his foot.
The second thug lay on the floor, whimpering pitifully.
"DAMN!" swore one of the remaining thugs, "It's the Devil, y'all!"
The thug by the cooler, hissed and tried to run for the door, preferring the
better part of valor, but was knocked back into the room by a solid fist in a
crimson glove. Daredevil moved gracefully into the door frame, every muscle
tensed in anticipation of what might happen next. The thug the masked man had
punched, stumbled back into the doorway and lifted his gun hoping he could nail
Daredevil before he moved again. Before he could draw a bead, Daredevil had
already moved to deal with the thug's renewed attack. A swift kick seemed to
come from nowhere, tearing the gun out of the thug's hand and sent it spinning
into a corner out of reach among the dog and cat food by the plate glass window.
Disarmed, the thug swung at the crimefighter, his desire for escape overriding
his fear of Daredevil's abilities. Daredevil deftly sidestepped the punch and
leaned forward, stepping past the desperate young man. Still off balance, the
thug wasn't prepared for the blow to the back of his head as Daredevil's billy
club finished its wild course through the room. Stunned and senseless, the thug
fell inches away from the doorway and freedom. Daredevil reached behind his
shoulder as the club arced back, catching it without looking. The two remaining
thugs were awestruck by the display, so awestruck in fact that they had stopped
shooting altogether.
"One chance to surrender peacefully, gentlemen," Daredevil said smiling, "I
won't make this offer twice."
The thugs looked at each other and then to their fallen associates and then to
Daredevil once more. Almost in unison, the pair gently lay down their firearms
and placed their hands on their heads.
"Smart move, fellas," Daredevil commented approvingly.
The Man Without Fear allowed his enhanced senses to stretch out and take in the
rest of the room. Besides the still excited heartbeats of his opponents,
Daredevil picked up a final excited heartbeat with his hearing, slowly
decreasing along with the rapid breathing. The beat was strong, the breathing
steady; good, the shop's lone defender was unhurt, just scared. Daredevil
pulled the scent of perfume from the same general direction, it was a woman.
"Miss?" Daredevil said loudly but evenly to calm her. "Miss, everything's under
control, you can come out."
Elena peeked tentatively from behind the shattered doorway, her father's pistol
in hand, ready for everything except the sight that greeted her. Elena knew of
Daredevil as did most New Yorkers, but had only seen him in the papers or as a
bit of grainy news footage. Despite the violence that had taken place, Daredevil
had managed to do relatively little damage to the store itself. One of the
displays were turned over, the young man who had shot himself in the foot was
getting it bandaged by the masked crusader - the bloody mess from his accidental
wounding was stemmed for the moment, the others were tied up neatly next to the
bullet riddled counter. Daredevil rose from his hasty medical work and turned
his head in Elena's direction.
"Are you okay?" Daredevil asked with a concern that wasn't in his voice when he
was dealing with the thugs. Whatever passions drove the man to risk his life
for the sake of total strangers, also drove him to be certain that those under
his protection were attended to before he left the scene.
"I'm fine," Elena said, amazed at the sudden calmness in her voice. She was
still stunned at how quickly the whole thing ended, how easily this masked man
saved her life and her father's livelihood.
"They won't be going anywhere for a while, miss," Daredevil said as he stood.
"If you'd like I can call the police for you."
"No--," Elena said hesitantly, "I can do that. Thanks. Both of my brothers are
on the force." Elena picked up the phone and paged both of her brothers using
the programmed speed dial. Her "911" would have them at the store faster than
any department dispatcher. She turned to thank her rescuer only to find that he
had left while she was making the call. She sat down to wait for Trent and
Virgil to show up and hoped that she'd still be able to pick up her parents on
time. Though it didn't seem to be logical, Elena smiled, looked out into the
night and said a soft spoken, "Thank you."
Five blocks away as he stretched in mid leap to fire a line from his billy club,
Daredevil smiled and replied, "You're welcome."
*****************************************************
The End?
are owned by Marvel Comics and that said owner retains complete rights to said
character. These concepts are used WITHOUT permission for NO PROFIT, but rather
a strong desire to tell my own tales about a character I've enjoyed over the
years. This also acknowledges that original concepts presented here are the
intellectual property of the author.
The dance is about to begin again.
The storm raged into Hell's Kitchen with a vengeance, and the streets were
quickly clearing of respectable people as the pattering droplets and whispering
winds of the late afternoon gave way to icy torrents of rain and howling gales
of the early evening. The light gray of the charcoal stained stormclouds
evolved into a dark soup of ink drenched cotton that settled angrily over the
night skies of New York. The shadows yawned and stretched and spread themselves
out, covering the sinners and saints, the wicked and the just, the kings and the
paupers with the same blanket.
He stands alone, the wind flows around him, the rain kisses his skin hungrily -
like a lover. He's ready, waiting, eager to begin, but he takes the time to
absorb his surroundings. Waiting for the right moment to begin the ballet once
more.
For some, the work day has ended. The trek home from the job winds up in the
warmth of home and hearth, the comfort of friends and family, the tenderness of
a lover's embrace, or quiet solitude with a good book, the radio or television.
For many of New York's citizens, the city that never sleeps slows down just
enough for everyone to catch their breath and relax before the dawn returns and
the cycle begins anew.
Lightning flashes from above, he tastes it as it cleaves the skies - a split
second tear across the gray-black expanse. He smiles, the spotlight has been
lit, the stage has been set.
He merely waits for his cue...
Elena McCullah was about to lock up her father's grocery store, grateful that
this would be the last day she'd have to cover for him. Elena's mother and
father were returning from their vacation to California, a gift from Elena and
her brothers, Trent and Virgil, for their thirtieth wedding anniversary, and she
was closing early so she could meet her parents at the airport. Elena was a
slender woman, twenty six years young, and beautiful for someone who didn't put
too much stock in her looks. Her mother was of Jamaican descent, which is where
she got her exotic features, big hazel eyes and dancer's build; from her father,
Elena inherited a slight southern drawl, caramel colored skin, and quiet
disposition. Even beyond the hard streets of the Kitchen, Elena turned many
heads without trying or even noticing, her love affair was with education and
what Elena considered beautiful was usually found between the covers of books
written by her idols, Maya Angelou, Nikki Giovanni, Ralph Ellison and many
others. She had aspirations of becoming an author in her own right someday and
had begun several manuscripts that evolved as she learned more from her courses
at NYU. Elena's parents were already predicting great things for their
daughter's future and offered her all the support they could.
It had been a while since Elena worked in the store, and she had never done it
alone, but both of her brothers were policemen which left little time for them
to tend the counter. Both had stuck their heads in the door over the last few
days to check on her, especially with the rash of hold ups that had hit the
neighborhood lately. If they stayed more than fifteen minutes, Elena would put
them to work, so the visits tapered off as the days passed without incident.
Elena smirked to herself as she remembered making Virgil watch the counter in
full uniform with an apron on over it. Both of Elena's brothers put up some
form of mock protest, but did what she asked with the usual playful banter and
name calling that siblings always did in a close knit family.
All through her childhood, Elena spent every afternoon after school here,
helping her father and brothers, her father playing jazz by Miles, Dizzy, Bird;
telling his children stories of seeing these musical giants in his youth when he
courted their mother. Elena found herself humming some half forgotten melody
from one of those old songs, allowing herself to be a little girl once more.
Elena, still humming to herself, was about to go to the door to turn the locks
and then count out the money from the register when she heard a scuffling noise
and the tinkle of the bell on the door.
Five young men in dark colored hooded coats stood in the doorway. The lighting
of the store, the gloom of the deserted, rainsoaked streets outside and the fact
that the hoods were pulled low over their faces, obscured their features, Elena
couldn't make out too much beyond the fact that they had chins and at least one
of them held a gun. The scream came from Elena's lips before the realization
that the store was being robbed.
"Shut her ass up!" one of the gangsters hissed angrily. The lead man with the
gun aimed and fired, the roar of the gun drowned out by another flash of
lightning accompanied by booming thunder.
Outside, and far away, he cocked his head and listened, his body already moving
to follow the sound back to the source. He had chosen a rooftop that gave him
the best vantage point to take the stage, to dance once again with danger, to
tempt fate with the gifts and talents he possessed. He traveled once more where
angels feared to tread, but where a man without fear was as bad as facing the
devil himself.
Matt Murdock, clad in the crimson garb of Daredevil, launched himself from the
edge of the roof and into the night to protect those who couldn't protect
themselves.
*****************************************************
DAREDEVIL - THE MAN WITHOUT FEAR
In DEVIL IN THE DARK
Written by Ali
Daredevil created by Stan Lee and Lee Elias
*****************************************************
Daredevil spun wildly into the air, unseeing eyes hidden behind blood red
lenses, using his enhanced senses and incredible agility to cross the distance
between his rooftop perch and scream he pulled out of the hundreds of other
random sounds that permeated the air around him. Unlike most of his peers in
the world of costumed vigilantes, Daredevil was unique. As a child, Matt
Murdock grew up on the streets of Hell's Kitchen, his father, Battlin' Jack
Murdock, was a boxer who raised Matt to be compassionate but tough. Jack
Murdock made a vow to his son; that Matt wouldn't live the same kind of life he
did, that Matt would have all the chances that Jack didn't get to succeed. Matt
became an exceptional student and despite his father's concerns, an equally
exceptional athlete. Jack raised his son to have a sense of morality, fair play
and ethics despite the elder Murdock's ties to organized crime. One of Matt's
more selfless acts cost him more than he expected, but gave him more than he
bargained for.
Matt still remembers with unusual clarity the day he lost use of his eyes. He
remembers every feature of the elderly blind man's clothing, the spots of rust
on the right front fender of the truck that barreled out of control at the man,
the number of scrapes on his hand after he had dove into the old man and pushed
both of them to safety, the Daily Bugle billboard on the wall that the truck ran
into, even the shade and intensity of the green tinted radioactive isotope that
struck his eyes moments after he thought he was safe. What Matt remembers most
from that day was the blackness that followed, immediate and never-ending.
Though Matt had lost his sight, he had awakened in a hospital with all of his
other senses amplified to superhuman levels. Touch, taste, smell, hearing; all
were incredibly sensitive, the initial realization of his newfound abilities
nearly drove Matt mad and almost overwhelmed him, but slowly he gained control
over his senses and discovered that he had acquired something new as well. Matt
called his newfound ability his "radar sense", for lack of a better phrase, an
invisible force emanating from him, which gave him a 360 degree scope of his
surroundings. These abilities combined with Matt's heightened reflexes and
agility made him more formidable than most sighted men of equal physical
prowess. Matt learned to cope with his disability and continued to pursue his
education, eventually enrolling in law school.
While Matt studied, Battlin' Jack kept up his work for the mob. Enforcer by
day, Jack Murdock found release for his own frustration at life by boxing during
the nights. Jack began to make a name for himself in the ring once again,
scoring victories against younger men he shouldn't have been able to beat. Jack
chalked his sudden success to his desire to stay a hero in his son's eyes, Matt
was the one good thing he had left, the one person he wanted to make proud.
Unfortunately for Jack, his world fell apart with the revelation that his rise
to the top in the ring had been engineered by the Fixer, a small time mobster
and book maker who wanted Jack to take a fall in the biggest fight of his
career.
Jack Murdock may have been a loser all of his life, but he wasn't going to be a
quitter. Not in front of his son, not ever again.
Jack's victory that night would've made the headlines if it wasn't for his
murder that same evening. There was barely enough of Jack left recognizable for
positive identification. The battered, bloody mess that the police found in the
alley behind the boxing arena had to be identified by dental records, the
killer's name may as well have been signed in blood over the corpse. Matt
Murdock never shed a tear, he never showed any sign of grief outwardly, but his
desire for revenge burned like blast furnace. On that night, Daredevil was born
and the underworld had learned to fear the man who had no fear whatsoever.
Daredevil's radar sense was a little fuzzy this evening, severe weather
sometimes gave his radar trouble, making the impressions less defined, like snow
on a television. The scarlet clad hero's other senses were working overtime to
compensate for his less accurate radar. His body twisted in the air,
Daredevil's hyper-sensitive hearing strained to hear the wind as it swept around
solid objects, the rain as it struck rooftops, the hoods of cars, the few people
left on the sidewalk and the streets below. Daredevil's sense of smell sorted
out the various scents from one another, attempting to pick up some trace of a
scent that may lead him to the gun he heard fired. On a crosswind, Daredevil
picked up the faint scent of cordite, he changed the angle of his latest flip so
that his next bounce would carry him in the direction of the place where the
shots may have been fired. The scent grew stronger as Daredevil went, he knew
he'd be there soon.
Elena had managed to drop behind the counter as the first shot was fired. She
rolled back behind the counter, heading towards the back office, where her
father kept his revolver. Trent, Virgil and her father had taught her how to
shoot, if necessary, she'd do what she have to do to stay alive and protect her
daddy's livelihood.
"Look here, girl!" one of the gang bangers shouted as Elena made it to the
office, "Come on out, we ain't gonna hurt you!"
Elena responded by firing a few warning shots from behind the half opened office
door. The resulting shots scattered the gang bangers, behind shelves and
counters, seeking the nearest safe haven. The banger with the gun lay down
covering fire which forced Elena to scream again as the wood of the doorway
shattered over her head. Two more bangers pulled a pair of semi-automatics and
prepared to pepper the doorway with enough bullets to make certain that the
young woman would not be able to give the police any kind of information. Even
with the weather working to their advantage, all of the shooting that had
happened would be investigated sooner or later. What they didn't consider was
just how soon someone would come to investigate the situation.
Daredevil didn't bother with a warning, his radar sense had already mapped out a
sketchy floorplan, allowing him enough time to formulate his plan of attack.
His final spring from the roof towards the store's entrance was heralded by his
primary weapon of choice, a specially made billy club which was resilient enough
to ricochet from the wall over the cash register and strike down the gunman who
had chosen to hide behind a rack of snack cakes. The club hit the thug in the
temple with just enough force to drop the man and carom into the gun hand of one
of the other shooters who had just registered the billy club's entry into the
situation. His yelp became a scream as his dropped gun misfired into his foot.
The second thug lay on the floor, whimpering pitifully.
"DAMN!" swore one of the remaining thugs, "It's the Devil, y'all!"
The thug by the cooler, hissed and tried to run for the door, preferring the
better part of valor, but was knocked back into the room by a solid fist in a
crimson glove. Daredevil moved gracefully into the door frame, every muscle
tensed in anticipation of what might happen next. The thug the masked man had
punched, stumbled back into the doorway and lifted his gun hoping he could nail
Daredevil before he moved again. Before he could draw a bead, Daredevil had
already moved to deal with the thug's renewed attack. A swift kick seemed to
come from nowhere, tearing the gun out of the thug's hand and sent it spinning
into a corner out of reach among the dog and cat food by the plate glass window.
Disarmed, the thug swung at the crimefighter, his desire for escape overriding
his fear of Daredevil's abilities. Daredevil deftly sidestepped the punch and
leaned forward, stepping past the desperate young man. Still off balance, the
thug wasn't prepared for the blow to the back of his head as Daredevil's billy
club finished its wild course through the room. Stunned and senseless, the thug
fell inches away from the doorway and freedom. Daredevil reached behind his
shoulder as the club arced back, catching it without looking. The two remaining
thugs were awestruck by the display, so awestruck in fact that they had stopped
shooting altogether.
"One chance to surrender peacefully, gentlemen," Daredevil said smiling, "I
won't make this offer twice."
The thugs looked at each other and then to their fallen associates and then to
Daredevil once more. Almost in unison, the pair gently lay down their firearms
and placed their hands on their heads.
"Smart move, fellas," Daredevil commented approvingly.
The Man Without Fear allowed his enhanced senses to stretch out and take in the
rest of the room. Besides the still excited heartbeats of his opponents,
Daredevil picked up a final excited heartbeat with his hearing, slowly
decreasing along with the rapid breathing. The beat was strong, the breathing
steady; good, the shop's lone defender was unhurt, just scared. Daredevil
pulled the scent of perfume from the same general direction, it was a woman.
"Miss?" Daredevil said loudly but evenly to calm her. "Miss, everything's under
control, you can come out."
Elena peeked tentatively from behind the shattered doorway, her father's pistol
in hand, ready for everything except the sight that greeted her. Elena knew of
Daredevil as did most New Yorkers, but had only seen him in the papers or as a
bit of grainy news footage. Despite the violence that had taken place, Daredevil
had managed to do relatively little damage to the store itself. One of the
displays were turned over, the young man who had shot himself in the foot was
getting it bandaged by the masked crusader - the bloody mess from his accidental
wounding was stemmed for the moment, the others were tied up neatly next to the
bullet riddled counter. Daredevil rose from his hasty medical work and turned
his head in Elena's direction.
"Are you okay?" Daredevil asked with a concern that wasn't in his voice when he
was dealing with the thugs. Whatever passions drove the man to risk his life
for the sake of total strangers, also drove him to be certain that those under
his protection were attended to before he left the scene.
"I'm fine," Elena said, amazed at the sudden calmness in her voice. She was
still stunned at how quickly the whole thing ended, how easily this masked man
saved her life and her father's livelihood.
"They won't be going anywhere for a while, miss," Daredevil said as he stood.
"If you'd like I can call the police for you."
"No--," Elena said hesitantly, "I can do that. Thanks. Both of my brothers are
on the force." Elena picked up the phone and paged both of her brothers using
the programmed speed dial. Her "911" would have them at the store faster than
any department dispatcher. She turned to thank her rescuer only to find that he
had left while she was making the call. She sat down to wait for Trent and
Virgil to show up and hoped that she'd still be able to pick up her parents on
time. Though it didn't seem to be logical, Elena smiled, looked out into the
night and said a soft spoken, "Thank you."
Five blocks away as he stretched in mid leap to fire a line from his billy club,
Daredevil smiled and replied, "You're welcome."
*****************************************************
The End?