Daredevil:  Lest Ye Be Judged

 

By Justin Karguth (jkarguth@yahoo.com)

 

It is one of those days, when the sun is hot enough to

boil blood and heat an already rising anger.  For one

young boy and girl this heat only raises their want to

give up.  Daddy hit Will too many times.  And Sarah,

well her mom loves her boy friends more than she loves

Sarah.  When they should be used to playing in the

park, they only know how to play with emotions.

Taught by parents who are unfit.

 

William has been waiting patiently for this day. Sarah

says she has a way to get away from everything and

Sarah shows him.  In her small hands lay a gun, a

brutal and unforgiving sender of death.  The black

barrel glistens brightly as it reflects the sun...

perhaps in a way it is trying desperately to give a

warning.  A reminder.  Suicides don't go to heaven.

 

He watches them without truly "seeing" from the

building across.  His ears focus on the sporadic

heartbeats... the quick breathing... and one all too

familiar metal chink of a loading gun.  He leaps now,

his body flowing with a trained complexity. As if only

innately possible his arm flings out recklessly at a

nearby roof ledge. Even a keen observer might not

notice the metallic cable that shoots from a billy

club in his hand.

 

Anyone who wasn't blind, however, would notice this

man who seemed to be almost flying like a trapeze

artist without a net.  This is a man in a fiery red

costume with demonic horns protruding from the

forehead. It is said that for a man to do what he

does, he must be either crazy or blind.  Or both.  The

only sign of humanity is the carefree smile of a man

without fear.  A Daredevil.

 

For those who had ever gotten close enough though, the

strangest part of the suit was the sewn over eyes.

Only a few know the whole truth, that the man behind

the mask is legally blind.  Others only knew some.

And those that knew very little filled in the missing

pieces with street talk and myth.  It was those people

on which he thrived, because myths always spread like

wild fire.  And in Manhattan... in the seedy

crime-filled streets of Hell's Kitchen, this scarlet

avenger needs all the help he could get.

 

Behind the costume and behind the mask he is mortal.

He is Matt Murdock, a lawyer by day, and a

crimson-clad vigilante whenever the need arises.  His

strength matches that of an Olympic athlete, because

he trains.  His intellect surpasses a Harvard

valedictorian.  But he is still only mortal.

 

Only one factor allows him the ability to be

classified "super" hero.  An accident that was years

ago, but it seems like only yesterday.  He was sixteen

then, this Matt Murdock.  He was brash and rebellious,

and in every way his father's son.  Prize boxer

"Battling'" Jack Murdock, self-pitying middle class

has-been who felt the greatest love a father ever

could for a son.

 

Even after the accident, the one where Matt made his

father proud and pushed a blind man from the path of a

careening military truck.   It was this truck that

carried the radioactive isotope for a new nuclear

bomb.  The isotope shattered on Matt's face blinding

his eyes like a bright flash.  The ultimate sacrifice,

yet it did not take Matt's life... only his sight.  And

his reward for his good deed was that his other senses

were heightened beyond that of a normal man.  In an

instant, a whisper became a scream, he could feel the

print on a newspaper and read word for word, detect

the scent of a woman's perfume from six blocks away.

Yet a blessing is useless without a leap of faith in

the right direction.  So for weeks, Matt Murdock swam

in this chaotic new world lost and gone and more blind

than ever.

 

Jack Murdock would sell his soul to give his son a

better life.  So when a criminal low-life called "The

Fixer" asked that Jack bully money from local shop

owners and debt dodgers he accepted, for Matt.  And

the money Jack gets puts shoes on Matt's feet, and

helps him through school.  And all it costs Jack, is

all that he has.

 

It's when it comes down to more than forcing people to

pay debts.  It comes down to Jack Murdock throwing a

match or losing his son.  The Fixer demanded his offer

and Jack could not refuse.  That night "Battling" Jack

did refuse though, for his pride, for his son.  And

all it costs is his life... and his brains splattered

across an alley wall from a well-placed gunshot wound.

 

Also, in the next few days, Matt Murdock's life would

change forever.  He would make the men who killed his

father "pay the devil his due."  And he did, that part

of his life is as vivid as ever... sharp in his mind as

it had always been.  But now, was not a time too dwell

on old memories and sins of the past. 

 

He returned his attention to the children, and to the

gun.  Children of circumstance is what they were and

he truly cared for them.  However, it would be hard to

convince two youth that a man in a devil suit crashing

through a window only meant to help.  Maybe though...

maybe Matt Murdock could.  He leaped quietly and

effortlessly to the roof of the other building, then

turning towards the stairwell door he ran in full

sprint and jumping stairs until he finally sees a

maintenance room.  Going in quietly he locks the door

and begins to change.  Silently he comes out again and

begins to tighten his tie slowly, and then places his

cane/billy club on the floor and starts tapping it as

he approaches the room that the children are in.

Pulses nervously pounding... breathing uneasily ...heavy,

he has to hurry. 

 

It was time to play poor lost blind man.  He felt all

activity shift suddenly as he appeared to clumsily

fall into the room.  The first to notice was William,

who instinctively grabbed the gun from Sarah and hid

it behind himself and then asked, "Who are you?  This

place was condemned a long time ago, mister."  Almost

on cue, William noticed the man's cane and sunglasses.

 "Oh Jeez, mister, I am sorry I swear I did not..." 

 

Matt smiled now and got up slowly trying to look

embarrassed and lost.  "I was just trying to get my

bearings... my law firm has a case where wrongful doing

is involved.  I have to meet my client and some other

people here later.  I thought I would at least look

like I knew my way around."  That is when Matt felt

Sarah's heartbeat race a little faster, though he

could not see the smile creep across her face.

"Willy," she whispered so she thought the man would

not hear.  "This guy is Matt Murdock that fancy pants

lawyer from uptown.  They say on the street that he is

real nice maybe he can help us."  She looked at Matt

now her eyes widening.  "Mr. Murdock, could you help

Willy and I out?"

 

Matt turned his head as if only now noticing the

little girl. "Why, what happened?"  Willy nudged Sarah

and started shaking his head. She looked at him

letting her eyes plead.  "Maybe this is another way

out... besides that gun."  Willy hid his head now

knowing what was coming he curled up on the floor.

Sarah sighed and looked back at Matt Murdock.  "He

didn't mean to, mister.  But Willy... Willy killed his

father."

 

 Matt's eyes widened and he was suddenly at a loss for

words.  No speeding heartbeat and no stuttered

breathing.  She wasn't lying and this is one time he

prayed that she had.  From the lips of a child to the

ears of a blind man... the truth shall set you free.

 

Willy's eyes scanned up quickly waiting for the

inevitable. Waiting for this man, like his father, to

beat him within an inch of his life.  The gun

clattered loudly on the floor surprising them all.

Only Sarah was distracted as she saw Matt Murdock

wince in pain from the sound.  His head cocked to the

side, not looking, but sensing.  Matt walks forward

now and slowly stands the boy up.  "Let's get you both

some place safe.  Take my hands and follow me."  The

boy looks up hesitantly, there is no hesitation though

as he takes Matt's hand. 

 

The old brown stone of Nelson and Murdock, Sarah

stared up at it now.  She looked down quickly as a

portly smiling man greeted her.  "Hi Sarah, I am

Franklin Nelson.  But you can call me Foggy, everyone

else does."  Matt smiled now, for his best friend

seemed to be the only one who could get him to do

that.  Or almost.

 

Matt cocked his head again as a familiar scent filled

his nostrils.  "Natasha?" he whispered, low and soft.

He turned his head toward the three, who even though

he couldn't see them could almost guarantee they were

all staring perplexed at him.  "Foggy, take them to my

office.  I just remembered I left my briefcase at

home."  Foggy nodded and smiled, knowing full well

that Matt was going to change into Daredevil.  He made

a note to himself to remember that Matt needed to work

on his excuses.  "Sure thing pal" he puffed up his

chest and closed his eyes.  "I will make sure these

tykes get there safe and sound.  Or my name isn't...

Matt?"  Sarah let out a quiet giggle as she saw the

surprise of Foggy's face at the sight of his best

friend leaving so quick.

 

When he was sure they were inside Matt turned sharp

down a dark alley.  He then leaped on a closed

dumpster, pressing hard and jumping again he landed on

the stairwell, in a final step he landed on the roof

of the nearby building.  "What brings you to town,

Red?"

 

The question was meant for Natasha Romanov and it was

received, she turned surprisedly and her body set in a

fighting stance.   She was after all a former Russian

assassin dubbed "Black Widow" and indeed she fit her

namesake.  "Kind of ironic, a man in a devil suit

calling someone else red, eh?" she smiled and ran up

hugging Daredevil.  "Hey I don't write the stuff, I

just say it."  He hugged her back and ran his hands

through her silky lilac-scented hair. 

 

Pulling away he sarcastically said,  "You are looking

good, by the way."  She smiled knowing the man beneath

the mask was blind.  "Oh, so the devil may care?" she

teased tracing his cheek bone with her finger.

Nodding distractedly, he moved his head instinctively.

 She did the same, and then they ducked left almost in

unison and a missile zipped right by them.  "Holy

mother of -"  Natasha yelled as she saw the weapon of

their attempted demise.  "Too far off... probably

computerized ... and planned."  She smiled as she

watched Daredevil deduce how something so deadly could

have got the drop on him. 

 

Throwing a crooked grin at her, he then rubs his neck,

still deep in thought.  "Yours?  Or mine?"  Natasha

looked away laughing and then giving him the same

crooked grin she stuck her tongue out.  "If you're

referring to whose enemy... I would have to say yours.

After all who would blow a chunk out of Hell's Kitchen

to get to li'l ol' me?"  Daredevil walked over and

gave her a slight peck.  "I have business, two kids

need Matt Murdock, and Daredevil needs time to deduce.

 Later, Red."  He flows off the rooftop in a second,

and then Daredevil is gone and Matt Murdock once again

takes his place. 

 

Natasha Romanov sits alone her legs dangling over the

edge of the rooftops tempting fate with skilled

perfection.  His cologne still lingers on her costume...

Matt's cologne... For a moment she closes her eyes, and

in that moment a small mechanical creature climbs from

the explosion.  Firing a tranquilizer dart at it's

target other creatures assemble and carry off the

Widow's limp body. 

 

"Is the first "costume" apprehended?"  A voice

transmits across one of the little robots.  A shadow

creeps out of an alley and responds slowly.  "Yes,

phase one is nearly complete.  Only a few more

"costumes" to target and capture."  The radio

transmitter crackles again, "and what of the blind

lawyer?"  The shadowy figure peers across the city and

his eyes fall on the blind man.  "He is heading back

to his offices... we will get to him soon.   We will put

the fear of the devil in him!"

 

To be continued....