Erik: the Vampire Hunter
Episode 2: Sweet Seduction
By: Elektra
Motel 6 – Duncan and Clarke
She climbed out of the bed and took the wallet from the pocket of her bedmate's trousers, which lay on the floor in a heap.
She looked at the man, a cold smile on her lips as she saw that life no longer filled his body.
Well, the fool had come to KILL her. She had shown him, though, hadn't she?
The police, of course, would foolishly blame his death on his obvious night's exertions, as there were no physical signs of what had befallen him. She knew the truth, however.
Mortals wasted so much energy in the midst of physical pleasure; they truly did not realize how useful that energy was.
She did. And she absorbed it with great hunger.
The man would never wake again.
Such was the payment for one night with Cassandra.
Twenty-three years ago
"How dare you!" she shouted as another plate whipped by the 7-year old boy's head, "How could you even ASK that!"
"It was only a hug, momma!" the boy cried, "I only wanted a hug!" he covered his head with his arms, but was very sure his mother's beatings would never damage his face more then it already was.
"And I only wanted a perfect child!" she replied angrily, "But I got YOU instead! Why would I even let you TOUCH me? Why would ANY woman let you touch her?" she sunk down to her knees, "I should have known… I should have known that bastard would give me a demon child!"
"I'm not a DEMON!" the boy cried out, "I'm HUMAN!"
She laughed coldly at that, "You really think you're Human?" she threw her hands in the air, "Oh, as if this isn't god's greatest joke! I suppose he's punishing me for not choosing my men more wisely!"
She stumbled over to the counter and took another swig from her whiskey bottle. "Little freak," she muttered, "I should have killed you when you were born!" she threw the bottle against the wall, shattering it into several pieces, then stormed out of the apartment to find whatever escape she could from the curse that was her son.
Ravelle College – Abandoned Dormitory: Present day
Erik shot up in bed and rubbed his eyes, hoping to make the dream… no… the memory… disappear.
No such luck.
The ringing of his cell shook him out of his momentary stupor. He checked the caller ID, and answered, "How can I help you, Antoinette?"
"We have a situation," she began.
"I'll be right there," he muttered, and hung up, quickly cleaning and dressing before he headed out.
Dean Giry's Office
Erik looked at the woman before him, disbelieving, "You must be kidding me, Antoinette!" he said.
"This is no joke, Erik!" Giry frowned impatiently, "It is how she feeds!"
"She LOVES a man to death?" he asked, then chuckled a rich deep chuckle, "I suppose there are worse ways to go!"
"ERIK!" Giry scolded, "This is NOT something to take lightly! She can seduce anyone she pleases!"
Erik grew serious, "Really?" he asked, "Then tell me - why did the Guild choose me to take care of her?" he asked. She looked away, almost as if ashamed to answer, "Because she will not try to seduce me, is that it?"
"I'm sure they just felt you were the most capable of taking care of this," she offered quickly.
He shook his head, "Do not cover for them. It's obvious to both of us their reasons," he studied her for a moment, "I'll hazard a guess and say they gave me special instructions on how to approach her?"
Giry looked up at him, then studied the paper in her hand, "Without your mask," she spoke softly.
"As I thought," he replied, "It's nice to know that my face is good for something." He took a deep breath, "When and where?"
"They lost track of her last night. She was at a Motel 6 on Duncan and Clarke," Giry answered, "Our scouts are searching for her now," she met Erik's amber eyes, "We've already lost one Hunter to her wiles,"
Erik took a deep breath, and nodded, "Fine. I will be available when the scouts find her."
With a polite bow, he left Giry to her thoughts.
Ravelle College Campus - Later that night
Christine backed herself against the nearest wall of the Arts building as she heard Erik inside. His voice was hypnotic. She wondered if he even knew that. She stood beside the open window, eyes closed, just listening.
"What are you doing here?"
Christine gasped and opened her eyes, only to find Erik towering beside her, no doubt having come out the window.
At least she was dressed normally this time.
"Taking a walk," she answered quickly.
"You like eavesdropping?"
"I was… listening. "
He was suddenly in front of her, backing the girl against the wall of the building, a hand on either side of her, "If you continue to do this, then I will STOP coming here!"
"Erik… please… just teach me? I said I'd pay!" Christine pleaded. "You've obviously got the talent."
"I don't need your money!" he snorted, then stopped a moment and studied her, a sly smirk on his lips, "Though… perhaps I could use you for something else," Christine paled. Surely he didn't mean- "I need a personal assistant," he said.
She blinked at that, but was relieved at the same time, "Personal assistant?"
He shrugged, "Manservant, messenger, whatever," he said, "I'm not big on going out in public."
Christine eyed him suspiciously, "You want me to run errands for you instead of paying you money?"
"You're a student. I doubt you'd be able to pay me any type of decent fee!" he answered. "If you're willing to be my personal assistant then we could, perhaps, work something out."
Christine nodded, "Deal!"
Erik pushed himself away from her. "Very well. Now let's get this first lesson over with, and you can decide if you've made a mistake." He climbed back through the window and offered a hand to assist her. She accepted it gladly, and he pulled her inside.
An hour later
"You keep forgetting how to breathe!" Erik snapped as Christine's last note faded into oblivion. He suddenly came up behind her and grasped her hands with his own, bringing her hands together just under her sternum, where her diaphragm was.
"Do you feel this?" he asked, inadvertently pressing her back against him. "THIS is where you breathe, not HERE," he slid her hands up her own body, pressing them against her chest. Christine couldn't help but blush. Erik wasn't touching her himself. He didn't dare. But it was enough to make her feel uncomfortable, "Do you understand?" he asked, "This is all very elementary! Did you never have a proper teacher?"
Christine swallowed nervously, "My father taught me," she said, "He was a musician too, but he passed away three years ago. It's been so long... I guess I forgot."
Erik was silent a moment, then spoke. "And what of your mother? Did she not bother to find someone to continue your education?"
Christine closed her eyes, voice quiet, "She died when I was three. Car accident."
She heard Erik exhale, "I'm sorry for your losses." His voice then grew cold, "Our lesson is over for tonight. You may come back tomorrow if you like. I'll be here regardless." He moved away and silently disappeared through the window.
Motel 6 – Richmond and John
"You're so very handsome, you know," a female voice spoke. Guild Scout Michael Garland turned to see the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes upon. Mocha skin, honey-brown eyes, long luxurious dark hair, and a graceful curvaceous figure covered by scraps of material that passed for clothing. Cassandra offered him a sweet smile, "Were you looking for someone?" she asked as she shimmied up to him, her arms sliding about his neck.
Michael suddenly couldn't speak, unable to tear his eyes away.
"You seem to be so very interested in me," she continued, the hypnotizing smile never leaving her luscious lips, "May I ask why?"
He licked his lips, "They… want you…" his resolve slowly began to fade. "I want you," he whispered huskily.
"So many men do," she replied, quite aware of the effect she was having on him. It was a wonderful power to have. "Who are they?" she asked innocently, though she knew exactly who was looking for her.
"Hunter… Hunter's Guild…" Michael replied breathlessly.
She pouted, "Awww, they want little ol' me? But I'm no threat to them,"
"You… you kill…" he answered.
Cassandra pressed her curves against his lanky body, "I'm all alone tonight," she reached up and stroked his hair, "Care to keep me company?"
"You'll… feed off me," Michael continued airily, but he really didn't seem to care now. "You're alone?" he asked softly.
She smiled, "All alone,"
He nodded as if in a trance, and blindly followed her into the hotel room.
Ravelle College: Two days later
Christine gasped as she stepped into her dorm room to see an unexpected guest lounging on her bed, reading the book she usually kept on her nightstand, "What are you doing here? And how did you know where my room was?"
Erik propped himself up on an elbow and looked up at her through his mask, purposely ignoring her questions. "Your taste in books leaves a lot to be desired," he indicated the romance novel in his hands.
"Did you sneak into my dorm room just to make fun of what I read?" Christine asked with a frown.
He glanced at the front cover – the typical bodice ripper design. "Are you waiting for some handsome hero to sweep you off your feet, Miss Daaé?" he asked quietly, a hint of melancholy in his tone.
Christine sat down beside Erik and saw he had not bothered to take his boots off. She pushed his feet off the bed, not wanting mud on her blanket. "I thought I HAD found my handsome hero," she muttered, "It only took him six months to get bored of me." She shrugged. "I mean, we were both young so he probably wasn't ready for anything serious. I don't hold it against him." She stopped, aware she was rambling. "Okay, maybe just a little bit."
Erik studied her, then glanced away."It find it difficult to understand how any man could get bored of an affectionate woman."
Christine met his eyes, then turned away with a shy blush, "Tell him that."
Erik placed the book back on her nightstand, and spoke coolly, "I'm here about your payment. It's due."
He stood up and stretched out his long frame. He had taken off his duster, which was sprawled messily on her floor. Without it, she could make out how lean his form was. Lean but solid. And pale. Unaturally pale, from what little she could see beneath the mask.
"I have a rather picky client," he began, unaware of her curious glances, "He wants a personal delivery, rather than FedEx. He thinks rather highly of himself," Erik scowled. "The man lives in town, so it shouldn't be much trouble for you to get to him. I do not like going out in the daylight."
Christine was quite sure the reason for his aversion to light lay beneath his mask. She was growing increasingly curious as to what he was hiding, but wouldn't dare ask.
"What kind of client? And what kind of delivery?" she asked warily.
"Nothing illegal, I assure you. However, a ghost does not put food on his table by lurking around the Arts building." He lifted his duster and pulled out a plastic tube. "Here are the blueprints my client commissioned for his new summer home. He's paying me a significant amount of money, so you understand how much trust I'm putting into you for this,"
Christine blinked in surprise, "Blueprints?" she asked. He nodded. "You're an architect as well as a musician?"
"Among other things," he answered darkly, then handed her a piece of paper. "This is the address. It must be there by this evening,"
Christine studied the address, and froze, "Um… I think… I think you have to make this delivery yourself," she said.
He turned to her, a hint of anger in his voice, "I guarantee he will appreciate seeing YOUR face more then MINE! Do not refuse my payment request or I will cut your lessons off!"
Christine shook her head, "I can't. Not there. Anywhere but there!" she looked up at him, eyes pleading, "Please!"
"Why does the address upset you?" he asked, curious now.
Christine turned away, "He's my ex's brother."
"The one who grew bored of you," he recalled her earlier words. "Perhaps it's time to put that behind you. How long ago was it?"
She shrugged, "I was a High School Junior, he was a High School Senior. I'd had a crush on him since my freshman year," she explained.
"A three year crush?" Erik scoffed, "He must have been quite the pretty boy."
"He was gorgoeus," she replied softly, "but there was more to it then that. I really cared about him. I was so happy when he finally asked me out."
"Oh, how very delightful for you," Erik muttered.
"Don't belittle me!" she snapped angrily, "He dumped me! Do you have ANY idea what that does to a girl's self-esteem?" She quickly looked away, having said far more then she had intended.
She was startled when he leaned down and met her eyes, a frown on his pale lips. "Then he obviously wasn't worthy of your affections to begin with. Get over it!"
He indicated the address in her hand, "He may not even be there. If he is, show him a brave face. Tell him you found yourself a wonderful passionate lover who treats you like a Queen, if you must." His eyes then bored into hers once again, "You will NOT deny me payment!"
"Christine?" a voice spoke quietly from the doorway. Both Christine and Erik looked up to see Meg standing there, mouth open, eyes wide as she looked at Erik, "Who are YOU and what payment are you demanding from Chrissy?" she shouted angrily.
"Chrissy?" Erik repeated the nickname with amusement, then stood up to face Meg, towering over the petite dancing student, who took a startled step back, "I'm not demanding anything she doesn't owe me," he said.
Meg looked at Christine, then back at Erik, hands on her hips and protection for her friend in her voice, "And what do you think she OWES you?"
Christine then realized what Meg was thinking, and quickly jumped up, "Erik is the vocal tutor I told you about, Meg," she said quickly, ignoring his scathing glare. No doubt he had wanted to keep that a secret. "He just wants me to do some errands for him in place of payment."
"HIM?" She indicated the masked man, "HE'S the one who's been teaching you?" She studied him suspiciously.
"Listen," Christine stepped between the two, "Meg, don't worry. He's not doing anything wrong," she looked at Erik, "I'll make your delivery, okay? Just go before anyone else sees you."
Erik's eyes shifted between Christine and her friend. He then turned to Christine's bed and stepped onto it, opening the air duct above as he pulled himself up and in, shutting it behind him.
Christine and Meg exchanged glances for a moment, before Meg finally spoke, "He couldn't just use the door?"
An hour later
Christine took a deep breath as she stood before the DeChagny estate. She rang the doorbell, and one of the maids immediately opened the door.
Christine offered a small smile, "Hey," she started. "Um, I'm here to see Mr. Philip DeChagny," she quickly held up the tube, "I was asked to deliver something to him for a friend,"
"Ahh, are those the blueprints he's been waiting for?" the maid asked, and Christine nodded. The maid indicated the young girl follow her in, "He has told me about this mysterious new designer. Erik. No last name. He's become rather popular among Philip's friends." She glanced at Christine as she led her through the large estate. "Have you met him, or does he conduct business with you as he does with Philip? Over the phone?"
"Oh I've met him. He's… um… " She thought a moment. "Really old," she lied.
"Old?" The maid asked, "Funny, I've answered the phone when he's been on the other line. He didn't sound old to me. Had quite a sexy voice, in fact," she winked.
"Yes, he doesn't sound his age," Christine answered. Lying was just becoming easier and easier, "He has a good pair of hands, but he has terrible rheumatism in his knees, so he can't get around much."
"Well it's good of you to run errands for him then," the woman smiled, then knocked on the door they had just come to, "Mr. DeChagny? Someone is here with Erik's blueprints."
She heard heavy-footed walking from the other side of the room. When the door flew opened, a handsome golden-haired male with piercing blue eyes stood before her – her high school sweetheart, "My brother TOLD him not to deliver it by messenger!" He then stopped when he saw who the delivery person was, "Christine?"
Christine could say nothing for a moment, surprised that he even remembered her, "Raoul… um… hi…"
"Wow!" he seemed almost taken aback, "How long has it been? Over a year now?"
"I think so, yes," Christine replied.
Raoul offered a charming smile, "My brother told me to expect this delivery, but I had no idea the delivery person would be so lovely," he studied her intently. "Do you work for Erik?"
"Yes," she said quietly, then regretted it. She DIDN'T work for Erik. She was in his debt, not in his employ, but it seemed any other intelligent answers left her the moment she had come face to face with the boy she had never forgotten.
Raoul indicated Christine come into the room, which she now saw was an office/study. "Thank you, Rosa," he said to the maid. Rosa smiled, heading on her way. He indicated a chair for Christine. She placed the tube upon his desk as she took the seat. He sat across from her, steepling his chin as he studied her, not overly concerned about the parcel.
"Tell me about yourself," he started. "What have you been up to lately?"
"I go to Ravelle College. I'm majoring in Performing Arts," she replied, amazed that he was even interested.
Raoul nodded, "Yeah, I remember you were always in our High School plays and talent shows," he grew quiet, "It's too bad I graduated a year before you. I wish we had kept in touch."
"Really?" Christine gasped. Raoul simply nodded, and she offered him a sweet smile, "Well what have YOU been up to?"
He shrugged, "Running the family business when my brother isn't around," he offered a small smile, "And when I'm not busy at University."
"Sounds stressful," she replied.
"It is. Stressful and boring, actually," he answered, then grew serious. "Chrissy, can I call you sometime?"
Christine suddenly grew nervous. She stood quickly, remembering this was the same man who had broken her heart once already, "I have to go, Raoul."
He hastily came around the desk, "Wait! I know I wasn't fair to you in High School, and I'm sorry. I really am. I was a jerk, and I apologize for that. I DID like you Christine. I liked you very much."
Christine headed to the door of the study, "I can't do this, Raoul."
"Listen," he began, gently grasping her arm to stop her, "I'm not asking you to get back together with me. But can we at least be friends? I enjoyed being with you. I'm being honest here."
Christine met his eyes and saw the truth in them. She was hesitant for a moment, but eventually relented, "I'll give you my cell number, and then we'll see."
Raoul nodded, "That's all I can ask," he handed Christine a paper and pen and she jotted the number down. "Thanks, Chrissy," he took her hand and planted a gentlemanly kiss atop it, "And thank your boss for the plans. I'll give them to Philip when he gets home, and he'll get in touch with him later."
"I'll let Erik know," Christine offered, then headed out of the house, quite aware she was blushing like a schoolgirl.
Thursday night
"You seem a little distracted tonight," Erik spoke as he peaked up at the brunette from his place at the piano. Her singing had started improving since the two had begun their lessons, even surpassing the first night he met her, but tonight, her voice was lacking. He needed to know why.
"Ms. Daaé?" Erik began again, his rich voice as soothing as he could make it, "What is it?"
Christine glanced at him, then quickly turned away from his intense gaze. Finally, she answered with a resigned shrug, "Raoul called me last night," she explained. "I didn't even know what to say to him," her voice trailed off as she stared at the floor tiles.
"How did he get your number?"
"I gave it to him when I delivered the blueprints. Philip hadn't been home. We talked for a few minutes."
"I see…" Erik replied, keeping his voice steady. Why did he feel a strange twinge at her words?
"He wanted to go out for coffee sometime," she said.
"And did you say yes?"
"OH!" The brunette jumped when she heard Erik's voice behind her. She spun around to see he had left his place at the piano to stand mere inches from her, "Jeez, Erik! You startled me!" she gasped as she put a hand to her pounding chest.
She hadn't even heard him move. But then again, Erik always seemed more like a shadow than a flesh and blood man.
"I seem to have that effect on people," he answered.
Christine's eyes strayed to his face … and the oppressive leather that covered whatever secret he was hiding.
Quite aware she was staring, Christine's eyes fell instead to the lower half of his face – his mouth. Such a lovely, perfect mouth. What could you possibly be hiding?
Christine finally had to step away from him, lest her curiousity raise his ire.
She wandered off to the side, keeping a polite distance, and focused her gaze out the window again. But she could still see him in her peripheral vision, watching her. He was difficult to ignore.
Christine glanced at him nervously, his strange golden eyes focused intently on her. "You're hovering."
Erik's attention did not stray from the dark-haired woman, "I asked a question. I would like an answer."
Before Christine could respond to the dangerous chill in his voice, a strawberry blond head stuck through the window. "Chrissy," Meg called out, holding a cell phone in her hand. "You left this in our room and Raoul's on the line for you."
Erik closed his eyes, teeth gritted in annoyance. He took a breath to calm himself, and let it out slowly, only then realizing he had clenched his left hand into a rather tight fist. He slowly relaxed the hand.
"You could have told him she was BUSY, Little Giry!" Erik scolded as he turned to glare at the girl handing Christine her cell phone.
Meg looked over at Erik, startled by his tone. "He said it was important!" she sputtered.
Erik seethed under his mask. This man - a man whom he had never met - was infuriating, "Oh well… heaven forbid we keep the pretty rich boy waiting!" Erik knew he had no right to behave this way, but there it was. Almost like an instinct.
Christine offered him an apologetic 'sorry', and slipped out the window to take her call, effectively ending the lesson for the night.
Ravelle College Campus
Jeanie Stevan giggled as she pulled her intoxicated date closer, sharing a drunken affection. Jake gently pushed Jeanie against the wall of the arts building, the two kissing, touching, and enjoying each other in many ways.
A hand suddenly grasped the back of the boy's neck, pinching a nerve as he was yanked away, rendering the boy unconscious at Jeanie's feet. It had happened so fast…
She looked up at the tall man who had suddenly appeared before her – a living, breathing shadow, "I'm in no mood to watch drunks procreate behind MY building!" he hissed, then glanced at the girl, now kneeling with concern beside her man, "Tell everyone that ghosts don't like being disturbed," the dark man cursed colourfully as he headed on his way.
Dean Giry's Office – the next night
"They found her," Giry began as Erik stood before her. "She took out one of our scouts before they finally tracked her down,"
"A hunter, AND a scout. She must be a very talented woman," Erik muttered, "Or they must have been very weak-minded fools to fall prey to a pretty face."
Giry studied him, "They aren't the only ones, it seems,"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Antoinette," he replied when he saw her staring pointedly at him.
"Your new student," she answered. "Professor Gudicelli was mentioning to me how a certain Miss Daaé's voice was advancing at an unexpected rate,"
"Well, I'm certainly no teacher,"
"Erik…" she began, but he silenced her with a cold glare.
"Tell me where my quarry is. I would like to be home before midnight!"
Giry let out an exasperated sigh, knowing the conversation was over. Erik didn't want to talk, and no words from her would change that. She simply pursed her lips and handed him the scouting report.
Motel 6 – Steeles and Don Mills (later that night)
Cassandra watched the masked one from the poolside patio as he tried to sneak about the outside of the building unseen. He was lithe and graceful, a black velvet duster billowing out behind him, form-fitting trousers that would catch the eye of any hot-blooded female, and a dangerous darkness that drew her.
He was a Hunter.
She guessed he was well over 6 feet. It was difficult to tell exactly how much from the way he was slinking through the shadows.
She took in his face – his mouth and chin were visible, but the rest of his visage remained covered by a black leather mask framed by his silky ebony hair.
If Cassandra could charm him, she had no doubt she would receive quite the pay off.
As if he knew she had been there all along, the masked man gracefully turned towards her. He offered a polite bow, a smirk upon his pale lips… then he walked out of Cassandra's line of sight, blending into the shadows so well that even her enhanced eyes could not see him.
Cassandra grew nervous, her eyes darting around to find a glimpse of him. But she saw nothing.
Where had the male disappeared too?
She soon received the answer when a strong forearm clamped over her throat and pulled her back against a firm chest. "Let's just cut to the chase," an angry voice hissed in her ear, "I am here to kill you. There will be no time for pleasantries."
Cassandra craned her neck to look up at the same male she had been studying moments before, preparing to use her powers of persuasion - but she could only freeze at the sight that greeted her.
The Hunter no longer wore his mask, his hideous features fully exposed. Cassandra's eyes went wide. Was this... thing... even human? He SMELLED human… but… how could any human be born with such a face?
"It seems I've startled you," he replied, "I can't imagine why!" His voice was bitter. Cold. "Is something wrong?" he taunted, "Aren't you going to try and seduce me like you did the others?" If it were any other man, she could have easily worked her charms, but the revealed sight of him had left her dumbstruck. "No? A shame. I'm sure you could have enjoyed me…"
She didn't even see him pull out the stake.
Ravelle College – Erik's room (later)
With a weary sigh, Erik entered his dorm room - a room long thought abandoned - and tossed his duster aside. No one had seen him enter the building, but that was to be expected. He was quite adept at keeping to the shadows.
Erik knelt down before the music box on his night table. He wound the key and watched as the little Persian monkey brought his cymbals together, a sad song playing as its head bobbed slowly. How old was he when he had made this? 13 or 14 perhaps? He had… borrowed… the necessary materials from a few nearby stores, and had snuck into his school in the dead of night, immediately going to the woodworking and metal room.
The teacher had been impressed with the gifted boy's work, and had asked if he could meet his mother, wanting to congratulate her for raising such a brilliant child.
Erik had to decline the man's request, for he had not seen his mother since he was ten years old and his various foster parents didn't seem to want him around for very long – especially after a certain incident when he was fifteen, which had sent him running away from social workers and foster homes forever.
Erik threw off his mask and went up to the covered mirror on the other side of the room. He lifted the dust cloth and stared at himself.
Even in the moonlight coming through his window, he could make out light traces of blue-black veins beneath his smooth alabaster skin.
His nose was almost non-existent. The bridge was thin, his nasal cavity more like a black hole than anything else. His protruding cheekbones and brow made his golden eyes appear almost sunken in – eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness with the slightest touch of moonlight.
If there was such a thing as a living corpse, he was it. Not even a demonic seductress could stand the sight.
Erik tugged the dust-cloth back down over the glass, and lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Of all the monsters he had hunted and killed, there would always be one he could never get rid of – the one that haunted him every time he looked in the mirror.
Elsewhere
Detective Daniels went through folder after folder of research notes. Years had been spent on this case. The goal had been simple – Marla Ashton wanted him to find an old classmate of her daughter's. He had even been given the subject's full name – Erik Garner. Such a simple assignment, he had thought.
But he was wrong.
From what Daniels found out, the boy had been born with a severe birth defect. It had been bad enough to cause the father to disappear and the young mother to suffer postpartum depression to the point where she would physically abuse the child, as the social services reports had said.
And what of the child himself? The boy forced to wear this defect on the most visible part of his body?
After he was taken away from his mother at age ten, he had gotten lost in the system, hopping from foster home to foster home until he ran away at age fifteen.
He would now be a man of thirty, and Daniels was quite sure he was still around. There was no other explanation for what had been reported in the newspapers lately – reports of an avenging angel who had made it his business to save others from … well, no one knew exactly WHAT it was that had attacked them. Animals, some said. Monsters, others said.
Either way, a mysterious masked man would be sighted, and then just as quickly would be gone.
A shadow that disappeared like a ghost in the night.
END EPISODE TWO