We The Shadow: Origins

Blood Soaked Moon: Koa Jackson

"Hey, you remember that kid that was 'posed to be good at ball?" With one hand in his pocket, a question slipped from the mouth of a masked man as he turned the alleyway corner.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, weren't he a five star recruit or some?" The second masked man looked over to his friend, "What was his name? Some' Jackson?"

He scratched his head for an answer, "Man, I don't know, coulda been anythin'. He was gonna make it to the league, for real."

"No way. A kid from Detroit?" Dismissing his pal's thoughts, he shook his head, "You outta ya damn mind. Sure he was good, but this is Motown. We stuck in here for life, man."

crunch

"Huh, what was that?" Nervously, he reached for his pistol, staring down the dark alleyway with concern in his eyes.

Sensing some tension, he tried to speak some calm into the air, "Yo, chill man. It's prolly nothin'. Musta been a dog or a rat or some shit."

"I don't know man, I been hearing stuff lately..." Turning around to face his mate, he let out a short sigh, "Some o' the boys been sayin' shit man. Less and less o' us're comin' back 'nd shit."

"Yeah, whatever man, they prolly got cold with twelve on our asses." He joked but the smile instantly faded from his face as he caught a glimpse of something in the dark behind his pal, "Woah, mate, yo-"

"Huh. What's got you-"

CRACK

Caught off guard, the first man was attacked out of the shadow. A blur sprang forward, instantly grabbing him and breaking his arm behind his back. Then with a swift blow, a fist smashed his head against the concrete floor.

Stunned by the vicious display, the second man lost his balance, falling back with terror. He fumbled around in the darkness for his pistol as the shadow turned its attention to him. Just as his hand found his weapon and his finger reached for the trigger, a swift kick instantly disarmed him.

The silhouette stepped forward into the dim light, revealing the dull red neon lights of a mask. Luminescent wiring crossed over the eyes and over the mouth, creating a horrifying image. Surprised with the sight of such a terrifying figure, the thug was too stunned to escape.

Without hesitation, the figure grabbed the thug by his neck as his legs dangled in the air. He struggled for air as the unknown figure's iron grip tightened even further.

"Tell me where the deal is going down." The voice was deep and commanding, threatening the thug with its conviction.

"A- A- I- A- I don't know what you're talking about man." Desperate for any means of escape, the thug struggled for an out, "L-L-Look man, I can-"

"Last chance."

Fighting against the unknown figure's vice grip, the thug felt the life slipping out of his thin breaths, "A-Alright! I'll talk! By the War Memorial. That's-"

SMASH

A fist swiftly shut the thug up, smashing his jaw with an electrical jolt. The figure dropped the thug from his hand, driving his knee into his throat, sending the thug rolling over on the concrete.

There was no need to wait here any longer and so the figure raised a small grappling gun to the sky, disappearing into the darkness above.

Atop the building rooftops, the same figure found himself perched at the edge, looking to the city below. With a moment to himself, he reached for his mask, taking it off to breathe in the nightscape of Detroit as he replayed the events of the last thirty seconds.