Author's Note: Finally finished another fic, added a chapter to another and have now ground to a creative halt, because of this I'm going to do what I always do when this happens and simply grind out five or so new chapters in quick succession on a new fic (hopefully) on the bright side this is my first ever sequel (Go me!) from one of my better fics – basically all of them except the Twilight and DMC ones. Also this fic will change between 3rd and 1st person – probably.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Night World series or any affiliates, however Shadow is very much my own character.
= (considering the line never shows up when I post these damn things then it's gonna be a = from now on)
The patrol walked casually through the streets, it was past curfew and it was their job to make sure all the humans were off the streets, the patrols had at first been quite serious with the resistance humanity had been giving but in this part of the US at least things had quieted down, now the patrols were more of a chance to catch a bite to eat.
There had been talk of some patrols being killed in New York and other cities on the east coast, someone pretending to be the Shadow, same style, same signature but no doubt fake, hell there had even been footage of his last stand, and it wasn't like they were underequipped, with an AK and a sword each they were quite capable of dealing with mere humans.
The attack seemed to come out of nowhere, something fell from the roof, a vague whistle of something moving through air at speed, then the thing leapt off the back of one of the patrol onto a fire escape and was gone from sight. The patrol observed the damage. Three of the dead including the one it had landed on – decapitated. The patrol tried to radio for help only to find every circuit in the radio had been reduced to mere lumps of metal and silicon. Someone had isolated the squad completely, leaving them with only their guns, their blades and their fear. They began retreating.
The shadow in the darkness came again a series of muffled flashes to their right, they drew weapons and fired but it had already gone, three more dead. The remaining four broke into a run.
They retraced their steps back to their patrol station, real fear now fuelling their legs, one far faster than the others broke ahead only to fall in half his legs still running after his torso fell when he ran into the razor wire that had been strung up in the minutes since they'd passed. The three fled into an alley presuming themselves unseen as they took turns at speed, lost within minutes, the shadow followed. Out of breath they stopped only for two of them to take off running in different directions as a spear pneumatically pierced up from the ground impaling the squad leader, the steel tip penetrating his brain.
The two ran but the directions they had taken had led to dead ends as the thing in the shadows had known. Both turned in terror, one finding itself face to face with a creature with no mercy, the other mouth open in a soundless scream as fiery red engulfed her as the explosives went off.
It would be a week before they found what was left of the last patrolman, a blackened skeleton clutching a handwritten note, ' I still live', the others would never be found.
Shadow ascended the building's wall before entering his apartment via the window – there no longer was a door.
It had been a good nights work in his opinion, the patrol had reacted exactly as he'd known they would. One strike to force them back, the EMP to cut them off from other Nightworlders, a second strike to panic them, the first trap to terrify them, the second to split them, the third because he quite simply couldn't be in two places at once. The note because it was his calling card. There were still many who feared the name Shadow. It had taken two weeks to gauge their reactions perfectly, as always there had been no mistakes.
Meticulously he cleaned the blood from his katanas and sharpened the blade despite having only done so that night before heading out, reduced the gun to metal shavings while keeping the silencer, put the lightweight body armour on it's stand. The night vision goggles back in their case, their batteries to charge. Then he made the call.
"Cat? A ten-worlder patrol in Los Angeles. All gone to plan, when can you get me out?" He got his answer and disconnected the call.
Only now did he see to his own wound, a bullet had got through the elbow joint of the armour. In the old days it would never have happened but now he had too much scar tissue to reach the speeds he used too, he couldn't get out their field of fire in time, breathing came short after ten minutes and he couldn't move his left arm in a full circle. He'd been very lucky on that night, but the scars kept coming, eventually they would begin to seriously restrict his motion. Carefully he removed the bullet from his arm with the forceps before dashing iodine over the wound – he didn't even wince. Pain had become part of his daily life, staying alive hurt, and it wasn't just his body that hurt either, his heart ached and burned with the need for vengeance. Still the future was bright, there had been talk of letting him recruit a team and to be honest he needed it, he couldn't keep up with this much longer.
Author's Note: Please R&R, criticism welcome, compliments unheard of. And can anyone tell me what they'd like me to improve, better scheduled updates? Longer chapters? More action? Less action? You get the picture.