Monty always seemed so normal then… Maggie thought as her taxi drove through the rain.

There was a roll of thunder in the distance. Just this past week Dr. Margaret Beckhert had seen a newspaper headline that made her heart sink. Lord Monty Fiske, better known as the super criminal Monkey Fist, had met his demise encased in stone.

She hadn't seen or been in contact with Monty in over fifteen years, not since that time she spent abroad in her university days. She was well-aware of his reputation as a power-mad villain who had been apprehended multiple times by Team Possible. Yet the news of his death made her sad, nonetheless.

And there she was, in the back of a taxi with a bouquet of red roses resting in her lap, the plastic crinkling as the vehicle bounced. She rested her chin on her palm as she stared out into the mountainous countryside, the heavy rain creating a mist around them. Her recent divorce had already been weighing her down, and the news of an old friend passing just made it worse.

If she had still been living with Jeremy Hawthorne he probably would have been telling her to pay no attention to the sad news. She recalled Jeremy hadn't gotten the chance to meet Monty, yet he still wasn't at all fond of him. However she no longer had to put up with his jealous nonsense, and she could do whatever she wanted now.

For now, she just wanted to pay respects to the remaining Fiske family, and also ask them a favor.

The cab slowly came to a halt outside a set of large iron gates.

"This is it, ma'am!" said the cab driver. "Fiske Castle. Don't know why you'd want to come here. The loony who owned it turned up dead."

"I have my reasons," Maggie replied as she paid her cab fare.

She was glad to have brought her umbrella. The driver helped her retrieve her suitcase from the trunk.

"You sure you're not gonna need a ride back, ma'am?" the driver asked again, adjusting his hat in the rain.

"I'll manage. Thank you."

The driver shrugged. "Eh, suit yourself."

As the cab drove away at a cautious speed, Maggie inspected the iron gates and found them ajar. Odd. She would have expected them to be chained up given the circumstances. It was still quite a walk up the path to the castle doors, so she had to deal with the cuffs of her slacks getting soaked on the way up.

She wasn't sure what the usual protocol was on visiting a place like this, assuming there was anyone living in it. She tried the large heavy knocker, knocking three times with a frighteningly thunderous echo.

No answer, and she was only getting more soaked the more she waited.

She pushed the heavy door open with her shoulder, shaking out her umbrella as soon as she was inside. There was no welcome mat or the like to wipe her shoes, and she didn't want to ruin the burgundy carpet at her feet. She resolved to remove her boots and leaned them against the wall with her umbrella and her suitcase. If there was a host to speak of she was sure they'd understand. She paused to shake out the cuffs of her beige slacks, wishing she had went with the black ones instead.

Maggie picked up the bouquet again and called out, "Hello? Anyone here?"

Her voice echoed through the cavernous halls and she felt a chill. There were no lights or candles to illuminate the place. The overcast daylight of the late afternoon barely lit the way through the castle windows.

However there was a faint but distinct warm glow at the end of the great hall. A flame burning in the fireplace. Someone was here. They had to be.

Maggie moved forward, and there was an odd chittering sound from above. She looked up and perched in the rafters weren't birds, but monkeys dressed in ninja attire, all watching her like attentive little gargoyles and grotesques.

She recalled back in the day Monty already had a fixated interest in all things simian. She just never would have anticipated that he would have taken it as far as he did. But, then again, she wasn't one to judge with where her own study of bats had taken her.

She looked over at the fireplace again. Could one of the monkeys have set that up? Were they holding a sigil for their old master? She wouldn't put it past them. Animals are known to grieve when their human companions leave or pass away, and monkeys could be clever little devils.

Above the mantlepiece was a large portrait of Lord Monty Fiske. A very dignified likeness of the man, though perhaps painted some time after she knew him as there were a few lines of age in his face.

"Hello, Monty," Maggie greeted, knowing full well there was no one there to answer. "Been keeping yourself busy, I see…" She smirked. "You should see what I've been up to. I lost my license now." She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one foot. "Was hoping maybe you had family living here. Maybe a distant cousin or something."

The monkeys above her made themselves present as they climbed down to the floor.

Maggie chuckled. "I supposed maybe these guys count, but I don't speak their language." She looked around at the little monkey entourage as they cautiously approached her in that way that animals do. "Don't mind me, fellas. I'm just here to pay my respects."

She set the bouquet on the mantle beneath the large portrait, careful to not crinkle the plastic and startle the monkeys too much.

She looked up at that painted face once again and lamented that she never paid Monty a visit sooner. With his accomplishments in the fields of archeology and zoology she would have thought she would at least have written him to congratulate him on his success.

But then again, she only barely got to know him so long ago. By the time he was an award-winning scholar, she already had her own hands full with her focus on chiropterology, almost quite literally with the baby bats she had to feed and raise.

She heard another noise above her and instinctively looked up. She had previously assumed all the monkeys were present. She saw no signs of movement up in the rafters but the heavy shadows didn't help. Perhaps another one of the monkeys was perched up there. But this noise sounded heavier than one of these little guys. A chimpanzee, maybe? An orangutan? Given the little menagerie that surrounded her it could have been anything.

She sighed and once more turned to the portrait. There was another reason she was here. Another reason she hoped that Monty had family or even remaining serving staff who lived here. She had hoped to properly discuss the matter that she came all the way to the castle for.

But it looked like she was going to have to help herself. She looked around and in the corner she spotted an entryway to a set of stone spiral stairs. The monkeys only watched her curiously as she made her way up.

At the top of the stairs there was a long hallway with many doors on one side and a large set of two on the other. Along the floor was a red carpet, now faded and collecting dust. No signs of any footprints, human or otherwise, implying that no one had been through there for at least several months.

At the end of the hall she spotted what looked like the armory. Full suits of armor stood vigilant, looking more fearsome with the occasional flash of lightning. She doubted that was where she needed to look . She'd check there later.

On the left side of the hall was a large pair of wooden doors. She gently fiddled with the brass handles, trying to remain quiet and half-expecting them to be locked tight. Fortunately they weren't, so she didn't have to get her lock picking kit from her suitcase. However the sound of the doors unlatching still echoed down the hall and sent a chill up her spine. She could have sworn she wasn't alone.

She scanned the hall around her. Not a soul, not even a primate. In that case she hoped she would find what she was looking for soon.

She cautiously swung the doors open and before her was a large gallery. Artifacts and heirlooms in glass display cases like it was a museum exhibit.

Maggie smirked. This was a good place to start. She scanned the room and saw no signs of infrared lasers, tripwires or even the glimmer of a security camera lens.

She shook her head. Damn rich people. Think they're so untouchable. Then again, the castle was so remote that the odds of a mere burglar making their way up here were pretty slim, as were the odds of entertaining guests given the reclusive nature of super criminals.

She perused through the gallery like she was merely sightseeing. She almost wished there were human occupants here so she could have gotten a proper tour. All manner of weapons and shields adorned the walls, from medieval Europe to feudal Japan. Ancient remnants of pottery and statues, either as wholes or in pieces, all remarkable.

Maggie morosely smiled to herself, her face reflecting the display glass that covered a chipped bowl with a stylized image of a grinning macaque. She would have loved to have gotten a personal tour from old Monty himself.

She passed by another display case and she finally saw it. Next to a partially-reconstructed clay vase was the thing that she came for. The jade pendant of Wufu.

In her earlier days she might have needed a glass-cutting kit for this, and in the form of a Swiss army knife for easy-carrying. However at this point in time she didn't. Her own fingernails had long since become sharp and sturdy enough for the job.

With her index finger she carefully carved out a hole large enough to reach her hand through, and gently pushed the little glass circle inside so as to not shatter it. She reached inside and picked up the amulet from its stand, the jade cold and the old woven twine coarse in her hand.

She smiled at the sight of the Wufu symbol once more. It had been carefully cleaned and polished since last she saw it. Now she could actually distinguish the five bats that surrounded the shou character. She carefully wrapped the pendant in a handkerchief and tucked it inside her jacket.

But then her heart skipped a beat as she realized her instinct had been correct. She wasn't alone.

Right behind her she heard someone land on the floor.

"THIEF!"

Maggie snapped her finger and ducked. She barely dodged a swift chop and her attacker hit the display case instead, glass shattering as she tumbled out of its path.

Maggie barely got a glimpse at her assailant. He was hunched over and seemingly more beast than man.

Her first instinct was to leave the gallery with all the glass display cases and sharp objects.

She darted out into the hall and back towards the stairs. Her heart pounded as she could hear her assailant behind her skid across the floor in a sharp turn. She only realized she could have grabbed one of the weapons in that gallery, but her flight instincts had taken over.

As she rushed down the spiral stairs she briefly caught another glimpse of the man-beast pursuing her and saw him loping on all fours like an animal. She repressed the urge to scream, as she could have sworn she had a nightmare like this as a child.

The man-beast followed her down the stairs and into the hall, where seemingly she had disappeared. He surveyed his surroundings, no footfalls in any direction nor any doors left ajar.

Little did he realize that Maggie was right above him, clinging upside-down above the archway by the claws on both her hands and her feet.

Just when he thought to look up she sprung off the wall, tackling him and sending the both of them rolling across the floor.

The onlooking monkey ninjas, who were still gathered by the fireplace, screamed and hollered in reverie, as if this was just spectator sport to them.

Maggie was finally able to get the monster on his back, pinning him down with her full weight on her elbow and her forearm across his chest. It wasn't much, but it should have been enough to keep him down so she could at least catch a second wind.

He panted like an animal cornered and glared intensely into Maggie's eyes. A fearsome face only made more grotesque by the distorted shadows of the firelight.

As she caught her own breath Maggie realized just how familiar those intense blue eyes were.

"Monty…?"