Nightmist

My father didn’t want me here of course, but someone had to clean up his mess, and it wasn’t going to be him.

I gazed upon the twenties-themed club as a trumpet’s muted notes and the swinging beat of the band stirred the smoke-filled air. Masked members of the club sashayed like a pulsing mass of humanity in the dim light.

It was sickening, knowing the true nature of these pretenders. The greatest pretenders known to man. Murderers, kidnappers, criminals of the finest order. And at the center of it all, The Shadow and his red-encrusted Syndicate.

I finished my drink and put my own mask back in place before winding my way along the side of this demented bacchanal to where a door was easing closed.

Slipping my hand between the door and jamb, I caught it just before it clicked shut and slipped into a hallway, the music quickly fading. The shadows were deeper here, the glowing graffiti tattooing the brick long forgotten.

The corridor opened up into a shadowy room, and suddenly there it was. The grotesque scene I’d been expecting, plainly displayed before me. But it was so much worse than I imagined. I hid there, breaths silent against my mask, unable to resist flinching at each cry of pain, every single one weaker than the last.

I kept my breathing steady as I hid in the darkness. As much as my body urged me to jump in and help that tortured soul, it wasn’t time. Waiting was vital.

I needed to see the monsters behind the masks.

Here, The Shadow ruled. His face was adorned by the most elegant visage. Black and smooth like obsidian, the statuesque countenance was an unwavering display of perfection. My gaze shifted to a trio nearby—my real targets. Their haunting black and red garments as fitting as a devil’s attire as they dictated the gruesome punishment, the gleeful smiles on their true faces an otherworldly horror.  As my informant had promised, they chose not to wear their masks in the victim’s last agonizing moments.

These three were The Red Pathways.

Feared by all who had the misfortune of knowing them, they were The Shadow’s triumvirate. Pointed Storm, the ever-observant leader. Jade Hornet, deadlier than her favorite blade. Rusted Venom, the poison master.

I shifted forward to get a better view in the dimly lit room, my eye catching the slightest movement from The Shadow’s slim, elegant form. Flinching, I shrank deeper into the shadows. The man had sensed something. Hopefully not me.

I slipped back the direction I’d come. Better not risk any more. I’d gotten what I needed for now.

I moved with silent measured steps, my gloved fingers ghosting along the wall in search of the door out. The music grew louder with each second, and I finally found the exit. I pressed lightly on the door handle and peered out into the main room, the music thumping loudly in time with my heartbeat. It looked clear, the bouncers few and far between on the club floor.

A rustle of cloth directly behind me registered in my senses. Before I could dash through the door, a strong hand grabbed the back of my jacket and threw me to ground. I landed with a grunt and a considerable bounce, scowling to myself all the way. I was more disappointed than shocked that I’d been noticed at all.

“Leaving so soon?” a voice above me purred. Crap.

I jumped to my feet to make a break for it. I only had to make it out of here.

“Stop him,” a voice with a clipped English accent commanded.

A female guard tackled me to the ground, pinning my arms behind me. Though I was skinny, I was fit and average height for a guy, but despite my writhing struggles, I couldn’t break free from the woman’s grip.

Slow measured clicks of fine oxfords sounded as The Shadow came to stand before me, hands neatly held behind his back as he leaned forward. His obsidian mask was grossly beautiful, but the dark gaze behind the eye holes leered. “Nightmist, I presume?”

I glared at him, though he couldn’t see much of it through my own mask, as I pulled and pried at the guard’s constraint.

“We have not had the privilege to formally meet, but you match the descriptions from my reports to a T. I would appreciate getting a drink with you to talk business, though I’m afraid you’ll have to stop struggling for that.”

I’d managed to wrest a hand out of the guard’s grip and was in the middle of elbowing her in the sternum when his statement caught me off guard. Business? Was he serious? I figured we’d go straight to the beating me up part.

Pausing, I looked in his gleaming eyes—eyes I wouldn’t trust in a crosswalk—and believed him.

I gave him a nod of affirmation, and in return, he waved the guard off me. As I straightened, he was already striding away into the pulsating club with the words: “Follow me.”

I cast a wary glance behind me, then followed after his elegant figure while his guards trailed at a distance.

A few turns and steps later we were seated in a balcony booth overlooking the club floor. The music somewhat less mind-numbing.

“I’ve wanted to meet you for quite some time,” The Shadow stated calmly before offering me a freshly poured glass. I took it, if only to have something to hold.

After a moment of contemplation, I finally spoke, studying the intricate shapes of the glass. “Can’t say I feel the same way about you.”

He barked out a laugh, the club’s music quickly enveloping the sharpness of it. “No, I suppose not. Though here we are, why not make the most of it.”

As nice as this had been, I had no intention of sticking around.

The Shadow swirled the drink in his glass. “I’m surprised you managed to find this place.”

I smirked. “Well, it’s not like you were hiding it.”

Taking a sip, he shrugged, the mask somehow not getting in the way. “I suppose not. Though I thought my staff would have done a better job keeping nuisances out.”

I said nothing. No need to get innocent people killed.

Rather than demand an answer, he gave a nod to my glass. “You should try it.”

“I think I’ll be fine without it.”

“Now I really must insist. This isn’t your standard liquor store product we’re talking about here. I have it specially made in Seoul, Korea.”

I looked down, studying the still swirling cloud of liquid, knowing what he really meant. “I am aware.”

He set his glass down. “I’m afraid you have little choice in the matter.”

Glancing at the guards nearby, I realized that no, I guess I didn’t. The Shadow’s eyes stayed on me, waiting expectantly.

I sighed. I knew this had been a bad idea. Just another way my Father’s made a fool of me. I stalled for as long as possible before The Shadow signaled one of the guards.

I held up a hand, and the guard stopped. Hesitating for a beat just before the glass touched my lips, I took a drink. The stoic mask of The Shadow seemed to mock me.

I was expecting it, but the effects of the drug were almost instantaneous. Crap. Underestimated that.

The Shadow leaned forward. “Did you get what you came here for Nightmist? Because you won’t be leaving.”

It was past time to go. Whatever drug was in the glass made the smoke and lights of the club twist into unpleasant memories.

I flung the glass and the rest of its contents at the closest guard, then launched over the balcony railing. In my mind, it was a graceful leap, one I’d pulled off many times, but my foot caught on the edge of the table, and I tumbled down to the dance floor, landing on several masked people in a tangled mess.

With a grunt, I shook my head into a semblance of clarity, ignoring the angry shouts of those club-goers around me as they picked themselves off the floor. Willing the drug to stay at bay long enough for me to disappear, I weaved through the crowd to the exit, not even checking if anyone was on my tail. Not a clean escape, and I just hoped I could make it back before passing out.

What I didn’t notice in my haste were the Red Pathways, fully suited, melting out of the framework behind The Shadow. He watched me go, merely leaning back and lighting a cigar, puffing it through the bottom of his mask. He exhaled slowly, his smoke mingling with the swirls already in the air.

If I’d looked back, I would’ve seen the blood lust glinting in his eyes.

“He has seen your faces and that means trouble. Find out his identity and bring him to me. Nightmist is a problem I no longer have the patience to deal with."