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....