What Lies In The Hearts Of Men?

by Lunasservant1985

Chapters

The weed of crime bears bitter fruit.
Chapter 2: The Facade Of The Shadow Echos Its Past
Chapter 3: Normal Life.
Chapter 4: I don't need a sidekick...
A New Lease On Things

The weed of crime bears bitter fruit.

Nurse Red-heart drew another mug of greasy black coffee in the reception hall of the Canterlot City Hospital, it was late out and the reception had quieted down for the night. She sat at the table and tapped away at the keys of her computer, she was mostly filing away patients records, your run of the mill business when it came to keeping the american hospital in line. She didn't question when the sliding glass door slid open and in walked the girl known as Aria Blaze walked in wearing a blue one piece jumpsuit with a yellow zipper, the back read Lab-tech human organ delivery driver. Her position only called for loading and unloading red containers and driving the van, so it didn't exactly require a med school education. Nurse Red-heart looked up and and got a tab ready to take the inventory of the delivery.

"Little late for the labs to be making a delivery isn't it?" She asked as two other Lab-Tech employees began unloading the containers, both blind to the fact that the organ's and blood's owner had been dead only a few hours. The "donor" was the late media mogul Scotch Bonnet. Ran a modeling agency on the surface, but bellow, deep within his true nature, he took most of the woman and girls who came to him, bright eyed and heads full of ambition and dreams...and made them do unspeakable things. Most of them were sold off like cattle, others forced into a lot in life no human being should ever endure, but he was dead now. Drained of blood, his heart torn from his body, and his penthouse office burned to a crisp, along with his body. He served only himself and took so much in life, perhaps in death, he can actually give to those more deserving of life.

"Something we got last second, making my last delivery okay?" Aria said as the organ donor list got signed, typical protocol. She followed the crew making the delivery a few more paces down the salt and pepper colored halls of the hospital, she checked her bearings and made sure they were too caught up in their job to notice her ducking into a maintenance elevator, it was an express on to the roof of the hospital. She stick her hands in the pockets of her purple jeans and put on a sour grimace, this wasn't something she had seen herself doing not too long ago, not just because she had ambitions of ruling the world, but she had killed a man tonight. Not in cold blood, and it wasn't like it was an innocent man taken in his prime by the cruel hands of her kin the fates. Never the less, such a notion had not occurred to her. Scotch Bonnet had tried to take advantage of Adagio when she went into his office, like all the others who came to her office, Adagio and Aria both wondered just how many girls he'd taken over that desk of his, made them bend over and feel his grimy hands all over them, and then his...

The elevator dinged and let her out onto the rooftops, the moon had disappeared behind a thick layer of clouds. The lights of the city casting an unnatural halogen glow over everything, you could hear the honking below as angry drivers hurried to their destinations, the hospital was only five stories tall. On the roof, machinery and generators hummed and whiled loudly as Adagio reached into the pocket of her brown jacket for the a flashlight, the one she took from her pocket was no ordinary flashlight. The handle was a solid silver finish and the front lens of the bulb a covering that made the shadow of an S shine against the bright yellow bulb. Aria shined the light with its emblem like S in the corners of a building rooftop not far from the hospital one. "It ain't the bat signal, but it's effective.'' she said only to herself with sarcasm. She turned to get back on the elevator as a voice, as smooth as silk gloves, yet intimidating and valiant like the old heroes of the days gone by.

"It is, I can see that small light from a mile away sometimes." Aria shrieked softly and jumped back a bit from the surprise. Looking up, she saw a figure cloaked in all black, the sleek coat on his shoulders fluttered like wings behind him, his belts held a shimmering silver buckle and two holsters of tanned brown leather, she didn't fear that they held two M 1911 pistols, antiques of an era that hearkened to the similarities her acquaintance shared to the old days, as did the black mask and red scarf around his neck. He landed beside her and smirked as Aria took a seat on an air vent and fished for a flash drive she'd taken from Scotch Bonnet's office. "Took you long enough to get here my dear." The mysterious being said as he took from one of the many pouches on his belt and a harness around his shoulders, a bundle of money. "You're payment as per our agreement." Aria took it handing him the drive.

"who are you supposed to be tonight anyway?" She said as she took the bills and counting out the hundred grand. Somehow, stealing the organs and blood of a man who would have given her more if he only let him take advantage of her naivete, was less sickening than LETTING him violate her for the sake of securing a modeling career with him. The stranger chuckled softly drawing the guns from his holsters and holding them across his chest, before twirling them in his hands.

"My dear...you are looking at the man who is one with the darkness, the man who knows what evil lives in the hearts of men...I am judge, juror and executioner when the law of man fails to uphold it's promises to the common man...I am THE SHADOW!" He said letting his coat flutter by lifting up, Aria would have found him funny, if he hadn't just handed her a hundred thousand bucks.

"Last time you were the British guy with the swords." She said tucking the cash safety in her jacket and chuckling a bit.

"Ahhh you refer to my time as the a humble vaudevillian veteran, vicariously cast as both villain and victim." He said making little gestures with his hands, Shakespearean showtime sentiments, for showmanship and spectacle of the silly and serious. In truth Aria's acquaintance had many personas to take on, but they all must be the dark and mysterious stranger types not seen much these days in the public eye.

"You know you're crazy right?" She said calling the elevator back up to the roof, 'The Shadow' only chuckled again as he tucked the data packet safety in a pouch. "Just what do you think a kook ruining around after reading one too many comic book can do to stop organized crime from leaching into this city hmmm?" She said as he perched like a raven on the air vents and seemed to almost fly up onto the metal network of them that ran all along the rooftop, until he looked down at her, his eyes shining softly behind the black domino mask around his eyes.

"They'll come like roaches, and I shall be the exterminator, I'll spray them like bugs with enough lead to make a sewer plant, and you're welcome to join me...we could make one hell of a team, the femme fatale and the tall, dark and mysterious vengeance seeking vigilante...what do you say?" He asked looking down at Aria as the elevator finally pulled up and she got aboard it leaving him with her parting words.

"I think you just love to hear yourself talk, you're a bigger ham than Trixie Lulamoon." She said with a laugh as the elevator doors closed.

"You say that Ms. Blaze, but The Shadow knows what evil lies in the hearts of men!" He said giving his coat another flip and he took across the metal patchwork of the air vents, a single slip and he'd plunge to his death, but the shadow fears not death for he is its shroud. The shadow took a leap from the city hospital roof and his hands wrapped around the ancient and rusted metal of a fire escape. He placed hand over hand as he could feel the pulse in his veins. fingers pulling him up higher and higher until he used it propel himself the remaining distance to the roof. 'There are some like Aria, sweet girl and all, but she lacks vision.' He thought to himself as he ran as across the black tar roof, the clouds above giving way to rain that belted the brim of his hat. The shadow only chuckled as he did the same on the other side of the building until he reached the ground. The streets of Canterlot City were emptying as people ran inside for shelter like a bunch of wicked witches of the west.

He stuck in his hands in his coat pockets and kept his head down, the flaps shut concealing his hardware. The spring shower came down hard, the traffic and street lights cast a hazy glow against the blurry low vision the rain caused. He stopped for just a moment by a newsstand, the tired eyes of the vendor as he stood behind his counter, the cornucopia of local headlines lain out up front, everything from the satirical bombshell of MAD and latest from DC, to the classics in small digest sized publishing in the back, provided by the New York Post themselves even. "Nice evening isn't it?" he asked the guy behind the counter with a smile, the seller didn't return the sentiment when he saw the getup."

"Yeah I guess, you're a little early for Halloween there buddy boy." He said pouring himself a cup of coffee, "You gonna buy something? Cause I an't one for chit chat." He said as his strange customer began to browse the selections. His interest peaked at a headline: Businessmen from Persia claim. "We're legit!" The article itself went into detail about how some guys coming to Canterlot city from countries ranging from Sicily to Persia, Mr. Bonnet's contacts in organized crime, though their interview with the press wanted to say otherwise, and that these men sans one late media mogul, were all here on legitimate business and nothing more, but if what was stored on the drive was true, it would rebut ever word they had spewed lick acidic venom at the blind sided media.

"Gimme this copy of the gazette, oh and this month's MAD I want to see which is a bigger laugh...Hey what's Haunted Horror?" He asked as he noticed the very Roy Liechtenstein cover depicting a glowing green skull with fiery red eyes.

"Bunch of old horror titles from back in the days when they were everywhere, it's four bucks on top of the six and two for the MAD and the paper." He said as The Shadow only placed a big twenty on the counter.

"Keep the change Print Shop." He said taking the brown bag of reading material in his hands. Not tonight, there'd be no attack on any big time hot shots...not yet...let Bonnet's death sink in and sting the public but die off a bit. Let the rats think they're safe so they'll crawl out of the grimy slime of the sewer pipes. Then hit them hard while their guard's down, then once the Sicilians are gone, with the Persians in tow, maybe the Russians will try to muscle on his fair and beautiful city, Or the Chinese, maybe even another media mogul like Scotch, chance white, or Don Love...as in Donald not a mafia don, but they where all slime to him, slime that needs to be shark steam cleaned and bleached away, like the chrome head that adorned the steel walls of the flats as he ascended them home. He past the sliding glass doors of the apartment and ascended the ancient stone steps all the way to the 28th floor of the building, his heart pounding in his chest and breath short from practically running up the stairs.

The apartment door didn't lead to some dinghy roach infested dive that would have fit his character, no the place was actually quite nice. humble even, nice little blue carpet and white baseboard walls. The hallway leading to the appropriate rooms. a glow from a television in one gave advice to the only occupant being home. He looked past the doorway and into the room, inside was a woman. She hadn't even changed out of her grey pantsuit and dress shirt from work. her glasses askew on her face as she snoozed on the couch, a folder on the coffee table from work. a not on the table read her only words.

Justin- meatloaf and peas from the office cafe in the oven love mom.

He wasn't V, nor was he really The Shadow, or The spirit, or any of those heroes. He was Justin Sun-fire.; Canterlot High student and son to a single mother who had been under the thumb of that Bonnet guy not long ago, once a lifetime ago, she had been in the same position of so many young ladies like her, a teenage mother struggling with her one year old son, father long gone, seeking asylum up in the Yukon or god knows where. When big top of the world bonnet offers her the job of lifetime as a model. All she had to do was let him bareback her black cherry in his office, Which she refused and took the job kept away behind the computers in the basement, managing the accounting for the building maintenance. Eventually Bonnet forgot her face as he had plenty more girls to use for his sick kicks. 'Tough break,' he told her. You didn't wanna play ball when you had the chance so now you accept your lot in life, nobody gets anywhere in this life without getting their hands dirty girls, nobody.'

He looked at his mother sleeping so peacefully, if she woke she'd see her son in a black fedora and trench coat strapped with pistols and pouches. She was way too exhausted from working for that slime-ball on his last day on earth...did she even know he was burnt to crisp sitting in the morgue while his organs were going to people who needed them just a few flights up? New life given and created from a grisly death? "Look at you ma, you've done so much for me, and I can't even tell you what I've been doing to repay you." He said softly opening a wooden music box on the coffee table, it played a tinny rendition of The Chordettes hit "Mr. Sandman. "I promise, nothing will ever hurt you the way he almost did ma, and no one will ever take advantage of you like that again...look at you you're the parent and I'm the one making the promises of parenthood to you, I don't care." He said taking a blanket from the closet and covering her with it, before giving her a soft kiss on her forehead. "I love mom."

He said as a small smile appeared on her lips. Justin "The Shadow" Sunfire turned and went to his bedroom to catch up on the latest skewering from the satirical bombshell known as MAD magazine. Then maybe use the newspaper to plot tomorrow's "after school activities."

Chapter 2: The Facade Of The Shadow Echos Its Past

"What in Sam-hill are these doing all over my school?!" Principal Celestia shouted as she looked up to see a poster had been tapped to her office door, the poster depicted a tall figure draped all in black with a hat and aiming a large sub machine gun, the classic .45 ACP Semi-auto Thompson sub machine gun. She'd gone by many names in her day; the trench Broom, the trench Sweeper, the Chicago Typewriter, the Chicago Piano, Chicago Style, the Chicago Organ grinder, the chopper, and the Brooklyn burper. It's man stopping barrel aimed at the poster's reader and a caption reading, "A special message to Canterlot city, compliments of The Shadow, visit Shadowofthenight.podcast.com for details, and remember..."The shadow KNOWS!" Principal Celestia saw more of these posters hanging up along the walls all advertising the podcast. "I want them down...all of them...now."

Little did she know just a few feet away from her, and several flights up. Justin Sunfire had "taken control" of the AV room. It was currently being decorated with the facades and backdrops to give the impression of downtown Canterlot City, save for one corner which resembled an old news room, the kind with desk fans and coffee mugs. He was in full costume, his long black trench coat flapped behind him as he walked from the others he'd invited to this "Presentation." They where mostly other students from the drama clique, a few of them wore ratty street clothes and ski masks while carrying duffle backs that gave the impression of some hoods who just pulled a heist. A lime green girl with brown hair, now all mussed and out of place, stepped up to Justin and coughed into her hand.

"So what's my motivation J? I need details for delivering a performance." She said rereading a script he's written. Justin only sighed and shook his head.

"You Dramas are all alike you know that? Details, details, motivations and all that melodrama jazz. This isn't Shakespeare, you just robbed a bank and are making off the dough and I swoop in when you think you'll be safe in a dark alley and pump your guts full a lead from my Tommy gun. That enough motivation for ya?! He didn't mean to be mean, but rather he was doing just what the Dramas needed, to stay 'incognito' and not break character. The girl, her name being Sophisticata, was only quite impressed with his dedication. "You're...not actually doing this with the intent on killing people right?" She asked as she adjusted the ski mask over her face.

"That's none of your concern, I paid you to act, so frigging act alright?" He said turning away and fluttering his coat.

"Darling I admire your dedication to performance, but must you be so brash with it?" Octavia Melody (who yes is a Drama) said as she stuffed some tee shirts into her duffle, "To make it more believable that I'm carrying something." Her words. Justin sighed again and reluctantly broke character.

"I'm sorry; It's just, my position in what I do...calls for a hard line and not very sociable attitude, the pulp heroes unlike Peter Page Turner's little Jr. Justice League in the basement and old boiler room of the school, didn't have many allies.

"And they didn't kill either." A boy in a black beret with lime green hair said as he gnashed his teeth with every word he spoke. He spoke like some pretentious snarky, snob. With his words almost giving off that posh high society accent, clearly William Cervantes didn't want to be a part of this.

"Hey Billy boy, a hundred thousand a pop means don't question me."

"And don't call me "Billy!" It's so plebeian! My name comes from the playwright William Shakespeare and Author of Don Quixote Miguel Cervantes and you shall address me as such." He said with his teeth so clamped shut it wouldn't surprise Justin if his jaw was sore from talking like that so much. The Dramas took their positions in front of a backdrop meant to look like a bank, camera two in place to capture it under the guise of an amateur reporter tailing them. Camera one was on standby in front of a guy in a newsie hat and bow tie named scoop century. (no relation to Flash) Scoop sat at the news desk and was ready to turn his ambition as a school paper reporter into an acting role.

"So how does that prop gun of yours work anyway?" Scoop asked just as the final touches on the little charade were being put in place. Justin held a silver finished mock up Thompson in his hands, it looked real down to the little detail of the air hose connected to a small Co2 tank clipped to his belt.

"Just like the famous scene in The Godfather, the one were Don Corleone gets shot while out shopping, they pulled it off by using prop guns hosed into Co2 tanks that shot pellets filled with red dye packs that looked like blood, I've done the same with my prop, films for used after used similar technology to pull off gunshot deaths even now it still pops up. Okay places everyone...Ready camera one." He said as he got into character and perched above the backdrop building. The first camera on the tripod clicked on as Bright idea started the feed on the podcast, all went silent. The camera aimed at Scoop as he shuffled some papers and then set them down on his desk.

"Good morining Loyal veiwers and welcome to a special podcast, I'm Correspondant Scoop Century, normally my syndicated collum is found on the Canterlot High Gazzete, but this shocking story we uncovered is too much for Principal Celestia to publish, so I and some annonomus help have set up this podcast for it to be known to all."

Across the school some students had slipped away from their classrooms or in some cases like Ms. Cheerilee, who used a school computer so her class could watch it. The mane seven among them in her class. "So what do you guys think? Are these guys for real is it all some hoax?" Sunset asked as Scoop spoke.

"Darling, I think whatever it is, we should listen and see what the hubbub is all about." Rarity replied with her eyes fixed on the screen. Just a few floors above them in the Av room, Scoop continued to deliver his "Bulletin",

"Last night a hiest pulled on the Trust Company Bank was foilled not by the boys in blue but by a masked figure that claims to be the iconic pulp hero The shadow. The Shadow, first apperaed as a narrartior foor the detective story hour in the summer of 1930."

"The era you clearly got your podcast apperance from Scoop." Pinkie said with a gigghle at how dated and cheesy the thing looked. "He's even using a black and white filter with grain to make it look old fashioned." She said giggling harder.

"Pinkie hush!" Ms. cheerrilee said as the podcast continued.

"The character was so popular that demand for Shadow dective magazines rose, which the original publisher soon filled, and the Shaodw's legacy expanded into comic books, radio dramas, movie sericals and eventually a modern film in 1994. Now it seems the lines between fiction and reality are blurred as we bring you this footage from last night. The second camera clicked on and the Drams grabbed their bags and began running down the set piece street like a pack of thugs on the run, the camera operator tillitesd and shook it too give the impression of being a handheld phone taking the video. He ducked out of sight when they got into the blind alley and hid while at the sound board of the Av Room behind the backdrops, Atom Link engaded a fake police siren sound over the spreakers. The camera operator tilted it up to the roof tops and Justin made his move, darting acroos it like his namesake, and folloing from above, as spotlights, disgused as street lamps, hid the faces.

"We'll hide in this derilect flophouse until the constibles lose intrest in our actions." One of them said. "The Shadow," was tempted to cut the feed and tell the idiot (possibly William) that bank thugs wouldn't talk like that and tell him to stop screwing it up, but that was out of the question. Instead he let out a long, manical laugh as they looked around waying fake guns searching for the sound. Octavia was more in tune with her role and she spoke next.

"What was that? I think we've been followed!" She said with the perdfect mix of belivablity and tension, she even made up for her ''costar's'' foolishness by saying. "I know you took one too many blows to the head as a kid joey, but even you gotta have the same feeling as me." She even pulled off a convincing accient, a little Jersey but you could harldy cathch her natural British one that was still there. FRom up above them, "The Shadow," Opened his coat and descended from the roof top, they looked up at him and aimed their guns at him he only laughed and spoke.

"You! Vile fiends have stolen money from honest citizens of this fair city, DEATH HAS COME FOR YOU! AND I AM...IT'S SHADOW!" He said opening his coat up and making the long coat tails flap like bat wings. He drew his Tommy gun and they froze as they starred down it's barrel. Justin used his elbow to push a button on a control pad in the inside of his coat, the control made a blue light at the sound board flicker, this signaled the sound technichian to make the speakers blare the sounds of a submachine gun. He pulled the trigger and the recoil of the Co2 prop gun copuled with the sound effects, lead all watching the podcast gasp, scream, even revile in horror, it was so real, so convinvcng that he gunned them down in cold blood.

"The Shadow" Picked up the basg and walked away vanishing into the "night." The camera feed cut back to scoop who closed the message.

"Landies and gentlement, you have just witnessed the reveal of a new face of crime fighting, it looks like life truly does imitate art, who is this strange vigillant that has turned a once cult icon of the past, into a one man war against crime. I'll keep this footage on this podcast lopped and I'll keep you updated on any further news regaurding this masked shadow, I'm Scoop Century signing out." The podcast feed cut and not too far away from the students watching could only stare as the scene started all over again.

"I am so downloading this and posting it on FaceBook, it's gonna get a ton of likes." Pinkie said as she got to working just that on her phone, simillar events such as that occured all over the school, intresed students began downloading the video and postying it all over social media, a link to someone's posting on youtube was retweeted like fifty different times and had tons of comments.

:pinkiesmile: You guy's just gotta see this crazy guy wasted the bank thugs and says crime isn't gonna pay in the city!

:rainbowlaugh: LOL pinkie pie you are so random!"

:coolphoto: I say it's fake

:derpytongue2: Shut up Photo

The actors sat around the AV computer and every time they hit refresh the screen loaded more comments on so many sites like it, it was the old mixing with the new, the connected and wired world of the twenty first century and the twentieth nostalgia of the radio dramas and movie serials of the 1940's, the age of trench coats and two fisted tales merged with the social media and social networking that would have been only seen as works of fiction more far fetched then the idea of a man dressed like a bat to scare the superstitious and cowardly criminal mind.

"I trust you all given the money I've given will keep any future stories of my double life to yourself right?" Justin asked as he had the computers wiped of all the evidence they had been used for this entire spectacle. The Av club and the Drama club collected a hundred grand a piece, obtained thanks to the generosity of the late Scotch Bonnet's safe that was cleaned out the night he died. They ruffled the bills in their ears and a few smiled at the total as they pocketed the cash. Octavia turned to him, a somber look in her eyes.

"Are you really going to...kill criminals with almost no other thoughts darling?" she asked as she placed her hands on his chest, he tilted her head up to look at her, the pose was taken right out of the film noir love stories that seemed to be shaping Justin's life.

"Listen sweetheart, It's a mad mad mad world out there, I've seen its faces, I know it's evils, and if I don't do this, then evil will only grow like weeds strangling the life out of blue ribbon wining begonias and petunias. Don't worry about me, don't wait up for me, just promise you'll keep my secret safe, like a newborn sound asleep in its cradle, can you do that for me darling?" He says as he softly lays his hand like a fallen leaf on her cheek and the other wraps around her waist like a vine and he draws her close to him. She gazes into his eyes as her own ones shine like the finest cut amethysts, and her smile could soften the hearts of pure stone and steel.

"I promise," she says as she leans in and kisses him softly on the lips, its a purely loving and tender kiss, there's no tonging or feeling each other up, but it's a true, and gentle kiss. A kiss that feels lost to the world where love is cheap and almost meaningless to all but a privileged few. "Your secret is safe with me; them, us." Octavia says as she giggles into her hand and then collapses onto a chair, her hand on her forehead as she sighs and shudders like she just slipped into a hot bath treated with coal tar soap and expensive body oils. She watches as he walks away, wondering if that little spark can ever become a big roaring flame between them.

"You AV club boys will have your AV room back before you know it...and thank you...all of you...for this, and for keeping my secret safe, I'll be in touch if you ever feel like doing this again." He said as he walked away, The facade of The Shadow being replaced by Justin Sunfire, your everyday High School raised by a single mother, willing to do anything to make her life as one just a little just a little bit easier

Chapter 3: Normal Life.

The clouds rumbled over the apartments again, it was something that seemed to be happening a lot around them. The building was built over fifty or so plus years ago, it was a mixture of the Gothic age of sandstone and iron works that rose to the sky, and the last time anyone had tried to improve on it was the atomic age and googie style chrome and siding that was colorful and shiny at one time, but was dirty, old, and rusted now. The heads of the "saucer men" with their rocket jokey helmets and fender like builds on their helmets seemed to be weeping as water ran down them. Justin placed his hand on the glass door and entered. When he last came in this way, he'd been in character as one of his many personas and the adrenaline was coursing through his veins. In this case however, he was coming home from school. The buzz on his little show, seemingly died off. 'This is how it is, this is how it will always be. The next biggest thing in popular consciousnesses once upon a time would last for weeks or even the entirety of a decade. Ant farms in boy's bedrooms sold twelve million units from 56 to 67, break dancing originated in the 70's and lasted up to the early 90's. Now some jackass gets hit in the nuts with a golf ball, posts it on YouTube, and gets a million hits. popularity lasting only three weeks at best. Memes die off so fast its pathetic how the industry of entertainment tries to cash in on them. Grumpy cat gets a movie, Fred a TV show panned more than an Ed Wood movie, I feel like a shadow out of my own damn time.'

His feet shuffle on the wooden steps with their carpets as many thoughts course through his head. The things he's seen or heard about, from the exploitation of his own mother. He looks at the apartment for rent, Six weeks ago, it belonged to the Patterson's. They had a little daughter in Catholic school, had her whole life ahead of her, until some snake who dropped out of school sold her some PCP. Her heart stopped beating after she haulicainted screaming about the snakes, the snakes. Snakes crawling through the rusty skeleton of the radiator in her class room before slithering cold into her belly. The Sisters rushed her to the Emergency Room, but she died. The Paterson's had to bury their only child, only daughter and that scum bag was still out there. He took up the mantle of The Shadow when he found out and saw Mrs. Patterson crying her eyes out in the hallway, her husband had to give her a sedative to get her to calm down and eventually they left town.

"Hey! Don't I know you?" Justin asked a yellowish girl with pink soft hair curled over her eyes, she had a tee shirt with 'meals on wheels' on the front and she held a plastic tray of hot food in her hands, more trays on the cart she had wheeled in the hallway. "Aren't you Fluttershy from School?" He asks as he starts to follow her to the first door on her rounds. The girl makes a soft chirping them whimpering softly.

"Oh uhm yes..I am, I was just...doing my volunteer work bringing food to the elderly residents of this address." She says struggling to reach and knock on the door. He smiles softly reaching out and hitting the door a few times as she holds the food tray nice and steady in her hands. Mr. Miller, the resident of the apartment, opens the door and greets them both with a smile. His face is full of creases and lines, and his head only has a ring of white hair and big round glasses, but it was a face that felt so warm and comforting, like an uncle with a box of cookies for you at Christmas.

"Well hello Ms. Fluttershy, coming to bring an old man like myself his dinner? And Justin, I haven't seen you in ages, but its so nice to see you doing good in the building."

"Oh Sir I'm not." He says but the old man seems to not hear or want to hear it.

"It warms my heart to see young people doing good in this day and age, ahh it makes me realize that though the good lord will call me home soon, I'll be leaving his world to good Shepard's." He says as Fluttershy hands him his dinner tray and she smiles warmly.

"So...Do you want to help me make my rounds?" She says swirling a lock of her soft bubble gum like hair.

"Sure." He says as he takes the cart and wheels it as she delivers the food. For a brief moment he's remind that a hero isn't made by holding the leader of a gang living and operating out of crack house, over the roof OF said house and then dropping him four floors to the porch where his skull splatters brains all over the steps. It's not heroic to drop the mob Kapo running a chop shop into the car crusher and hitting the start button and listening to his screams, and it's not wearing the V for vendetta Guy Fawkes mask and cutting a Z into the face of an Armenian guy in a red and white track suit, telling him to give the guys selling meth in his strip club the boot, and turn it from that to a bar. Drinking and wasting lives in sloth is a harmless vice, the exploitation of vulnerable women...Only makes his blood boil. Makes him long to be able to just God in the face and slap him in the cheeks even if it'll make God strike him down with thunder bolts and a thousand damnation's to Hell.

"I think you'd be really great helping me do this regularly Justin." Flutershy says as as Mr. O'Neil accepts his meal, he's not old, but lost his legs in a car accident when he was a College Athlete destined for the NFL. Seeing young people like he had once been support him and take time out of their lives to ease the pain in his, made his life all the more bearable even after the cruel fate he endured many years ago.

"You think someone like me could be as kind and good as you Fluttershy?" He asks realizing he's mostly let slip a bit of his dark and wretched double life. She looks a bit confused at him saying that as if he's some kind of criminal.

"Of course I do silly! Why would you ever say something like that?" She asks with curious intent. As she takes the now empty cart and prepares to leave.

"Just...comparing myself to someone like you." He says realizing that it only takes a single act of good in the world to make a difference in the world, not being vengeful sociopath, that...is what he was becoming...or was he? Justin wished Fluttershy a goodnight as she left the apartments and he made his way back to his own. His mother wasn't home yet, good. Enough time to start dinner, not some cheap microwave food or macaroni and cheese, but first...He made his way to his bed room, with its hardwood floor, the bookshelf holding all those trade collections of comic books and graphic novels. From 300 to Sin City, and The Dark knight Returns and Old Man Logan. The collection pales in comparison to the likes of say Turner or the school library, and its supplemented with classics of literature, again paled in comparison to say the likes of one Ms. Twilight Sparkle, but still a notable collection never less.

Posters for The Rocketeer, and The Shadow movie from the 90's, and several drawings of his very mentors, hung up on the walls. Justin pulled up a throw rung from the floor and revealed a floor safe, when he opened it up, inside was the ill gotten money from all this horse hockey. From Drug dealers pockets picked after giving them compound fractures or worse to saving made from running odd jobs like a good High school late teenager. "Almost time to make another withdrawal, got to be no more than a few grand to less than a million left, sounds like a lot yes, but this safe had held ten million or so when I started this whole thing." He closed the safe and sighed heavily as the face of Guy Fawkes looked at him hanging in the closet. Shinny, polished swords glimmering softly, partly calling to its master to try it one, partly mocking him with the smile of Fawkes.

"You choose this path, you know what you've done, and you have to face what you've got to live with." The mocking voice of Hugo Weaving from the V For Vendetta movie saying as the mask sat silently in the closet.

"Leave me alone, I'm taking a break from this until I need more money, I have enough to sustain on...for now."

"You'll be back, you know you can't live without the thrill of it, the rush of becoming an entirely differently person and fulfilling those adolescent power fantasies that, lets face it. Are all a majority of us are. Heroes? HA! Fool, just given in to your desires like the hormonal and wild desires like the high strung, wired teenager you are." He silences the mask's voices in his head and lays on the bed, the hours pass him by and the silence is his only solace.

Chapter 4: I don't need a sidekick...

Deep under the ancient and strong foundations of the Flats Justin Sunfire called home, there was a a long abandoned section of the building's boiler room, the pipes and machines had long grown silent and unmoving as the few remaining orange lights cast a somber glow all around. From the dirty, rusted remains of the boilers, heating fixtures and furnaces. Everything was coated in a thick layer of grime, dust and cobwebs. Justin stood in the center of the room as a computer on a desk propped up against the back wall clicked on and warmed up. The only sounds was his breathing as the three masks stared at him on their racks beside the computer. The Mask of V, the domino masks of The Spirit and The shadow with their blue and black suits and coats. He took a seat at the computer and plugged the flash Drive of Scotch Bonnet's data. He had moved most of the stuff for his vigilante personalities from his room to the lower basement, including the safe. A series of newspaper clippings had followed his exploits, though they tended to exaggerate or stretch the truth.

Vigilante killing slay american motorcycle club. One read, though it failed to mention a few things. One was that the so called "Motorcycle club" had been a violent and corrupt chapter in the Hell Hound biker gang. Most of them where...intimidating, but a majority of them while questionable at best were mostly legit. Hard party goes who rode the roads and drifted? Sure but they mostly kept their actions on the moral questionable but often not something that would trigger his multiple personas awake.

It was a thin line that people walked, they law always has a thin line between acceptable, questionable and objectionable, and his was a very thin one as it was, but whenever there was suffering riding on the heels of what followed, then his personalities would stir and call him to action. The newspapers often conveniently forgot the details on his nights our, from the apartments that called his night swashbuckling as V, armed only with swords and knives against seventy or so thugs. The paper called it an attack on the homeless and a hate crime, but forgot to mention that almost all those who attacked were drug addicts berserk on PCP and crank. No to mention that some part of Justin kept "V" quelled and from killing every one there, if they surrendered, he let them live, of they didn't fight, neither would he. He told those still clearly on drugs to do whatever they can to quit, but he knew in his heart that there was almost no way out for many of them. A harsh reality that would take more than just a mad man with swords going against gun toting psychos to truly solve.

"Meeting was scheduled down the pier a few weeks from now, give me time to "liberate" that new business the mob is building on the waterfront, claim its a legalized casino but Bonnet was planning to send his models there so the mob could make them work the place as prostitutes." He said aloud to only himself. "The worlds oldest profession, but when it's run by the scum of the earth like them, then it only brings misery. Place is run by a construction company the mob has in their union, Canterlot City has been free of this kinda corruption for years, but now its trying to shatter the innocence and force the city into the "Real" world. If this is reality, let me go on sleeping, if this life then I don't want to live."

"Do you always have to be such a pessimist when your other halves are talking?" A soft and sneaky girl's voice calls out from the shadows of the basement. "UGH! Remember, Remember the Fifth of November, I know not a reason why the gunpowder treason, should ever be forgotten." Out from the corner of a long silent furnace stepped a girl with white and bluish highlight hair, she had a pale grey tone and where her eyes should be white were sickly yellow with red irises. She wore a brown jacket and yellow "Chicken" gloves on her hands and jeans and boots.

"Eris Dis, Cord, what a pleasant surprise, what brings you here? Your uncle finally paid to have you released from the loony bin for young nut cases?" He asks as he scrolls through more of the info on the monitor. Eris only chuckled in her throat and twirled a lock of her hair.

"It was a therapy retreat that only lasted a weekend for my...condition, and frankly at least I don't have multiple personalities that tell me to kill some bourbon drunk strippers with daddy issues." She says as she leans against the wall her eyes lowered and a grin on her face as he looks up from the computer at her, oh pity, the school lunatic was released and with any luck she'd spill the beans on him. Then again being a not all well in the head chickadee herself, chances were she'd pester him a little or a lot, crack some corny jokes, then leave none worse for wear.

"What do you want?" He asks as she places a hand on a rack holding several of "V's" short swords, "and don't touch those." He says as she takes a V sword from the belt, it's the perfect length of just over the size of a dagger and a sword. There are others from twenty-five dollar machetes and six dollar camping knives and hatchets from the sporting goods section of Wal-Mart, to a few samurai katanas and fencing rapiers with sharp ends from a weapon supplier. They compliment the twin M1911 45 pistols, the Israel made desert eagle in full size 50 caliber, and the Uzi micros (1500 rounds per min) in 9MM, along with at least three different variants on the Tommy gun, with the iconic grip and drum magazine, the other with no grip, and a third with a military issue stick magazine.

"firstly I'd like to know how an eighteen year old 11th...or is it 12th?...eh whatever Canterlot high schooler...gets his hands on this kind of hardware." She says as she picks up his newest addition, a 9MM Mauser, authentic German model too, not the cheap Chinese imitation version or the finish model with a stubby barrel.

"I have my sources Eris, and you'd be smart to keep this to yourself." He said though he was ready to offer her the ill gotten cash to keep her trap shut about all this, Eris chuckled and picked the Mauser from the metal gun rack and checked the safety off and the chamber was locked and loaded.

"I don't want the money you "Robin Hooded" from some junkies filthy pockets." She said twirling the gun in her hands and slipping into the holster she fixed around her shoulder.

"If you want that gun no deal, I just got it and I had to jump through so many hoops to get my hands on it." He said as Eris rested her head in her hands and smirked, if she had a tail (and it almost looked like she did for a second) it would be swishing and swaying. He watched as she smirked an almost toothy grin and he tried to see past her red and yellow eyes to what she was up too, he tried to concentrate on the information on where to make his next move, for the girls of Canterlot High, for his friends, for this town.

"I want in Justin." Eris said with her grin widening as she ran her hand along a low hanging greasy old pipe and rubbed the smudging. "I must have the maid down here more often." Justin only laughed and returned to reading the emails that Aria snagged from the computer.

"What are you talking about Eris?" He asked as he then turned his attention to a map pinned to a cork board on the wall and began to move some pins around or take some away the meaning making sense to him alone, though Eris could crack almost any code or meaning to something.

"My purpose is to join you." She said as she walked over to him with her tight jeans covered hips swaying expertly.

"To join me as what?...Eris?" He replied as he watched her, entranced by her soft red eyes, they no longer looked crazy or menacing, perhaps they never did. They looked...determined, sincere, beautiful.

"As a member of the crew, willing and able, ready to serve. This ship is already home for the indigent, the unwanted, the unworthy. Why not for a homeless entity?" She says now standing right beside him, her eyes almost on the brink of tears as she and him exchange thoughts on the situation.

" Homeless Eris?" He asks as he wonders if her words are on her famous fabrications, or the truth.

"Yes." She answers as she places her hands on his shoulders and looks up at him with her eyes now ruby red and shimmering like hot embers of a charcoal fire.

"What? your folks kicked you out? What about your Uncle Discord?" He asks as she hugs him gently, then cries softly.

"You were right about me...I'm insane, I'm messed up, and I don't have any friends because Im a pest and a nussicnece." He strokes her soft white and light bluish hair softly.

"No your not Eris, you're...unique and funny and charming, a little on the annoying side, but you have learned when to stop." he says patting her shoulder and walking over to a mini fridge, he takes two sodas in glass bottles and gives her one, the perspiring glass bottle is cool to the touch even through her yellow glove. "Eris, I'm the sick one, I've gone up against dangerous people and in some case, I've taken lives...sometimes I wonder if it's not me doing this but..them." He says as she points a finger to the costumes on the racks. "I wanna believe that what I've done will keep our friends at school safe, keep them from some of the lowest depths of society and keep those depths from coming anywhere near us, but at the same time I wonder if I've done more harm than any good."

"I offer to add a little excitement, a little spice, to your life, and all you do is complain? Where is your adventurous spirit, your imagination? Think, Justin, think! Think of the possibilities, the thrills!" She says with gusto, her mood swinging as she starts to cheer up and drink her soda.

"Simply speaking, I don't trust you." Is his only reply.

"Oh. Well, you may not trust me, but you do need me. You're not prepared for what awaits you."

"How can we be prepared for that which we do not know? But I do know that we are ready to encounter it."

A New Lease On Things

"First of all...no more guns, They are the weapons of a coward and you don't need them, you're not using them anymore if you want my help." Eris said as she fired up the old boiler to a blazing hot temperature. She and Justin had gathered in the basement of the flats they had turned into a bit of an HQ, The grime on the walls and floors steam cleaned off as best as possible, all his equipment including the safe moved down here. Eris and Justin were at ends on how to handle the situation, but he wasn't taking it well.

"DO you have any idea how hard it is for an eighteen year old to get his hands on this much hardware in this day and age?" He said clutching the Israel mad Dessert Eagle in his hand, I'm keeping this, the Thompson, The Mauser, The M1911 and my swords." He said as he laid them out on a table under the frosted glass window, "They're rare and highly collectible!"

"You're gonna stop using them at the very least." Eris replied as she she sent a AR-15 into the inferno of the furnace, "Coward's weapon the AR, it's been used by cowards to easily mow down so many people, so in the fire it goes."

"Fine, you have a point there, Toss the other hand guns in too....even the Derringer's can go in peace." Justin said as he held a few knives in his hands and tucked them into their sheathes. "Some of these are Gerber MK II or older brand knives...I promise I'll use them as a utility first a weapon only when absolutely necessary." HE pleads but Eris has her doubts about it.

"Your not trained where someone is more likely to die bleed from blade wounds." She says as more guns go up in smoke, the bullets will be anonymously dropped off in a drive to revive guns and ammo with amnesty and no names. Why the guns themselves go up in flames is to cleanse his soul somewhat. "You've committed the ultimate offense, you do have some blood on your hands you know? in some cases others have blood on their hands for helping you."

"It was my other personalities that did that, the real me...deep down, is sick of killing, but not afraid to fight." He says as he shows her how serious he is, the precious Tommy that he was so protective of is chucked in with a Remington Pump action and a SPAZ-12. An antique weapon that once served on the front-lines of the world wars, in the hands of police and thugs alike, and he just torched it.

"Never again, no more hiding behind the masks of those who kill, Either they go...or I do." Now it's not about torching guns. She hands him the shadows red tie and suit, V's mask and cape, and the others like them. He holds them delicately in his arms, looking into those blank eyes and smiling mustached face, he hears only the crackle of the flames. In they go, and they char and melt in the heat as Eris pats his shoulder gently.

"You did the right thing, I'm here to help you...Justin." She says holding him close, until the memories of the violence fade.

"Thank you." He says before looking around his domain, "we'll do it all from here, we'll need to pick up where I left off. First...there's a shipment of...women and girls, coming in from Bulgaria tonight, well start of by..."

END?