Title: The Red-Eyed Spector

Genre: Action/Adventure/Mystery/Romance

Full Summary: Elliot grew up hearing stories and legends about the great hero, The Red-Eyed Specter, who fought for the people, protected the weak and punished the nobles who oppressed them. He even met him once, and saved his life! Well, with the help of his brother of course. Naturally, after such an experience as that, it became Elliot's dream to be a hero like the Specter. When their parents are mysteriously murdered, and the Nightray duchy joins the Baskervilles as empty wilderness, the Nightray siblings must flee into the wilds as outlaws. They become the notorious group known as the Headhunters, feared by few and known by just as many.

But when treachery comes from within, Elliot, now a young man, is soon left as the only blood Nightray alive, having watched all of his siblings killed one by one. Soon, he, a skilled swordsman in his own right, is nothing more than a local drunk. Can a chance meeting, and harsh training by a once proud hero brought low by the murder of his wife and kidnapping of his daughter, turn the wasted youth into the next Red-Eyed Specter?

Notes: This is inspired by The Mask of Zorro. Yeah, like I need another fanfiction start, but I just couldn't resist. The bunnies were to insistent. :P So.

Pairings: MYSTERY CRACKSHIP. I'll let you wonder what it is.

That is all. Read on, and review, if you please? :D

~Penelope

Prologue

"Elliot! Get back here!"

The young boy ignored the harsh whisper of his older brother, and continued to squeeze his way through the crowd. He ducked under flailing arms, and even between feet. He needed to see what was happening! He had to! Any moment now, he was going to show up!

As he came to the front of the crowd, he spotted four men with their hands tied standing at rigid attention. They were blindfolded, and didn't move an inch. While Pandora agents kept the rioting commoners, who paid no attention to the young noble boy standing in their midst, six armed soldiers in the bright white, gold, and black uniforms of the Barma duchy marched single-file between the crowd and the prisoners. They held long-barreled rifles on their shoulders, and as they were directed by a commanding officer, halted their march, and turned to face the blindfolded men.

From the balcony of the looming building adjacent to the crowded courtyard, a deep, sophisticated voice called out over the chaos. "Take the children out of the courtyard. They need not see this violence."

A hand clamped down on Elliot's arm, and he struggled, looking up into the scowling face of his older brother, Ernest.

"Ernest, let me go!" he screeched as his brother dragged him back through the crowd, toward the courtyard gates. "I want to see! I need to see him!"

"Hush, Elliot! You're going to get us into trouble!" sixteen-year-old Ernest hissed, and jerked him along.

Elliot growled, and bit down on his brother's knuckles. Ernest gasped in pain, and then yelped louder when Elliot stomped on his toes before jerking free and darting back into the crowd. Or, he would have had he not run straight into a brick wall that was a tall, hooded figure in black. It was Elliot's turn to gasp, and stumble back. Thin, pale hands rested on his small shoulders to steady him.

The man – for by the stature, though lithe, it was a man – tilted his head just so, and the afternoon sun filtered into the hood enough for Elliot to glimpse his face.

A white mask, like the kind they wore to masquerade parties, adorned with purple plumes and what would have been eyeholes covered with blood-red mesh. Pale lips in the half of the face that Elliot could see smirked, and then the man put a finger to them.

"Shhhhh."

Elliot grinned. "Specter."

The masked man smiled, and patted his head. "Better get somewhere safe, kid." Then he turned Elliot around, and gave him a shove in the right direction. When Elliot scrambled to turn around, the mysterious figure had already disappeared.

Elliot couldn't keep himself from grinning, and he scrambled back to find Ernest.

"What the heck was-" the older boy began once Elliot found him.

"I saw him!" Elliot burst, tugging on Ernest's arm. "I saw the Red-Eyed Specter!"

Ernest stopped and stared at Elliot in surprise before a grin split his face. "You…" Ernest glanced around at the crazed people of the crowd, before he laid his hands on Elliot's shoulders, almost protectively. "The others have already gotten out, but quick – let's see if we can't find a better view, hm?"

"Yes!" Elliot bounced on his heels, and followed his older brother as they maneuvered through the screaming people to one of the outposts along the courtyard wall. They crept inside, keeping an eye out for soldiers – they found none, as all of them were outside keeping the crowd under control – and then made their way to the roof.

Once they reached their destination, they peered around the statue of a proud dodo bird at the corner and saw the Barma soldiers loading their rifles at the command of their officer. Then, they tucked the guns against their shoulders, aiming.

Elliot frowned, gazing over the crowd in search of that black-hooded figure. "Where is he, Ernest?"

"Wait… Just wait." Ernest looked concerned too, searching the people.

Then, the officer gave the command to fire.

Just before the guns went off, a mass of black shadows flared up in front of the gunmen, and threw them backwards into the eager arms of the people. The people scattered back at first, afraid. From the boys' viewpoint atop the building, they saw the mass cower from the blackness until a figure arose from it, just as dark and just as ominous. He threw back his hood.

The people cheered, and rushed back forward to grab the fallen soldiers, to keep them down.

The Red-Eyed Specter had arrived.

Elliot cheered ever as more Barma soldiers appeared to take the contractor down. The Red-Eyed Specter whipped out his sword, placed a black top hat on his head, and poised for battle with such a grace that Elliot watched with his mouth agape, awestruck. Such calm control in the face of death! Elliot stepped back a bit from the wall, but not too far so as to block his view, and tried to mimic the Specter's pose.

"This is going to be incredible," muttered Ernest.

Then the battle really began. The soldiers lunged all at once, and the Specter fought them all, his exquisite white mask and brilliant feathers obvious to everyone, with the confidence of a skilled swordsman, and the smug grin of a gentleman. Back and forth the swords flew, the constant clang, clang, clang enough to make Elliot's young heart race with adrenaline. Every time the Specter downed one of the enemy soldiers, both he and Ernest cheered at the top of their lungs, heedless of who heard them.

"Specter, Specter, Specter!" Elliot began to chant, and his brother joined in. Along with the crowd, who was eagerly cheering their common hero on. The people reached a frenzy as the last Barma swordsman was downed.

Then someone screamed. "Look out!"

Elliot instantly scanned the courtyard for what could be a danger to his hero, and spotted on a battlement just below them, four riflemen loading their guns. He glanced at Ernest, and instantly knew that the older Nightray had had the same idea. The brothers grinned to one another, and then put all their weight against the ugly dodo statue.

The riflemen yelled as they threw themselves off the battlement to avoid getting crushed by the massive stone sculpture.

Down below, the Specter stared up at them and smiled.

"Yes!" Ernest said, high-fiving Elliot. Then they both went back to watching. But their hero had disappeared.

Then a pale hand gripped the shoulder of each boy. Both Ernest and Elliot cried out and whirled around, only to stare into the smiling masked face of the Red-Eyed Specter once more.

It was all Elliot could do to contain himself. He gripped his big brother's wrist tightly, and bit his lip to keep from shouting with glee.

The Specter grinned at them. "Thank you, boys. I believe you just saved my life."

"I-It was nothing, sir," Ernest stuttered, staring in awe at what had been their role model for years.

"Maybe." The Specter reached into his coat pocket. "Still. I owe you." He pulled out a pendant on a silver chain, and looped the chain over Ernest's head.

Elliot stared at the silver pendant in awe. A top hat, a beaming face with a single, pupil-less blood-red eye. "Wooooowww…"

"You had better get out of here while you still can," said the Specter, and then patted their shoulders and leapt over the edge of the roof onto the battlements below. Elliot scrambled to the edge to watch him go. The nimble man practically danced over the parapets, dodging every bullet the recovered riflemen sent his way, and then swung on the overhanging branches of a nearby tree up into the balcony of the manor house. Where his arch nemesis, Duke Barma, was waiting.

Elliot turned to Ernest, who was staring at his gift with wide eyes. Elliot snatched the pendant out of his hand and stared at it closely.

It was magnificent.

Elliot huffed, and dropped it. "Lucky. Why'd he give it to you? I'm younger, and… well, all the girls say I'm adorable."

Ernest laughed, and grabbed Elliot's arm. "I don't think adorable charms work on legendary heroes."

Elliot pouted, and both of them hurried off the roof to exit the courtyard, and find their siblings once more.