Daredevil in…

FOLLOWING FOOTSTEPS

By Hunter Lambright

St. Anthony’s Boarding School, New York

Under lamplight, at his desk, a boy named Justin Kenton sat silently, with a pair of scissors and an odd piece of fabric on the desk in front of him. He didn’t want things to end up the way they were about to, but the past had forced his hand for the future. Microfilm copies sat in a folder to his right, and he glanced at them without reading. He had them all memorized.

“City Mourns Death of DeWolff,” one read. “Carter Brought to Justice,” said another headline. Justin knew the articles by heart. Atop the folder sat a well-thumbed Bible, standard issue for students at the boarding school. Justin’s mother had sent him there when she believed he had become too much trouble for him. He scoffed at the thought of that—if anything, she was too much trouble for herself! Alcohol and drugs had been a part of Justin’s life since the toddler years, but it had been his mother’s usage that led to him becoming a “problem child.”

Justin finished cutting the two holes in the fabric before tucking it into his desk drawer. Everything was in place for him. He could still back out if he wanted to, but the truth was, he didn’t want to. He placed the scissors carefully back onto his desk.

Suddenly, the door to Justin’s room swung open. “Hey Justin!” said Adam Keene, Justin’s younger roommate with real enthusiasm. His white-blond hair was mussed and he had a wild grin plastered across his face, as always.

“Hey,” Justin mumbled back, not in the mood for his roommate’s youthful innocence.

Adam went over to his dresser, emptying his pockets of loose change and his pocketknife. When he reached his back pocket, he frowned. “You haven’t seen my wallet, have you?” he asked Justin. Justin shook his head. “Hmm…I must have lost it somewhere.”

Justin turned his back on Adam. The boy had been the only one who hadn’t looked at him only on the outside and it had genuinely hurt Justin to take his wallet. He had pilfered it earlier in the day. He’s a rich kid, anyway, Justin thought, steeling himself against his own guilt. His top-class dad can buy him a new wallet and fill it with twice as much cash as it had in it. Justin had needed the money to pay for information on the corrupt and double-dealers in New York. It had been worth the high price.

Adam undressed and crawled under the covers of his lower-bunk bed while Justin pretended to busy himself at his desk. Adam put his hands behind his head, looking at the wood of the bunk above him, thinking. “You know, my dad wanted to take me paint-balling upstate next weekend,” he said. “I thought you might wanna come, just to get your mind off this place?”

That was another stab for Justin. His mind flickered to thoughts of the bulky paint-ball armor in Adam’s closet that he would need. “Maybe,” Justin mumbled again. This time, Adam took the hint that his roommate was preoccupied. He rolled onto his side, and tried to fall asleep.

After half an hour of pretending to be busy, Justin finally heard the slow, deep breathing that let him know that Adam was definitely asleep. He got up, gathered everything he needed, and opened the window, inch by silent inch, until he could slip out.

Goodbye, St. Anthony’s, thought Justin bitterly. You won’t be needing me anymore.

Office of Nelson and Murdock, the following morning

Foggy Nelson sat at his desk, looking at the workload piled on his desk. Things had been difficult lately, and his partner, Matt Murdock, hadn’t made things easy on him. The fact that he had been calling in sick a lot recently certainly didn’t tend to get the work done for him.

“Good morning, Foggy,” said Matt, stepping carefully into the office. He tapped the wall carefully, letting the sound come back to him as reassurance of where everything still was.

Foggy put the back of his hand on his forehead and leaned backwards, pretending to faint. “Dear god! Is it the Matt Murdock? How did pneumonia treat you?”

“Not well, Foggy,” said Matt, walking over toward his own desk. “But you already knew that.”

“Well, I hope you’re better,” said Foggy. “The first thing we’re doing today is getting a written statement from the FBI’s Agent Dudley on the Gardner case.”

“Agent Dudley?” Matt asked. The name sounded familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it. “Who’s he?”

“She,” corrected Foggy. He stood up and began to pace. “Agent Lisa Dudley was there the night of the murder. She wanted to make a statement about Dr. Gardner’s reaction to the news of his wife’s death and all. It could be a big breakthrough in our case.”

“That’s assuming he didn’t have a reaction,” said Matt. “If all she’s coming is to tell us that he started crying, it’s not going to help us at all. You did ask her about which side she’s testifying on, didn’t you?”

Foggy cursed under his breath, but Matt’s hearing picked the words up easily. He smiled.

“Of course, the only reason she’d come to us is if she wants evidence against Gardner. I was just kidding around with you,” Matt said, filled with a kind of new energy that came from doing a real job during the daytime, as opposed to his moonlighting job.

“Oh, okay,” said Foggy. His face grew red, and he was glad that Matt couldn’t see his embarrassment. “Well, I thought that I’d review the case for you before—”

“Sh!” Matt said, putting his hand up suddenly. He heard something outside. Raised voices, too muffled to be made out, but definite hostility in one. The other was laced with fear. One was male, one was female. In an instant, Matt was out of his chair and out the door, moving much faster than a blind man should have been able to.

“Matt! What are you doing?!” Foggy asked in shock, but his best friend was out the door before the words reached his ears.

Down the sidewalk, outside of the office, was a confrontation between the man and woman. The man was either bald or masked, most likely the second option, and he was carrying a large firearm, a semi-automatic.

“I believe that giving false testimony against thy neighbor is unconstitutional,” said the man mockingly. “Is it not, Agent Dudley?”

The woman screamed again and backed up. Matt didn’t know what to do. If he stepped in and saved their witness, Matt would risk revealing his identity. Still, if he did nothing, he was almost certain that Agent Dudley would die.

There was nothing Matt could do, in the end. He never would have had time, super-powers, or not, to stop the man from as Matt sensed his trigger finger tighten.

BRAKKA-BRAKKA-BRAKKA!

The gun let off a couple of rounds, catching Agent Dudley in the chest. The ground was littered with blood drops, the sound of each one reaching Matt’s ear in a splatter of despair.

As the man with the gun finished, he turned to see Matt standing there, jaw open in shock.

“Ah,” he said, smirking beneath the mask. “A witness. Please, do tell the police that the world has been purified of Ms. Dudley by the Sin-Eater.”

The Sin-Eater?! Matt thought. But Stan Carter killed himself in jail!

The shock of the entire situation, especially the guilt, must have taken its toll on Matt’s perceptions, because the masked man was gone before he realized a thing. There were sirens in the distance, onlookers on bicycle and in vehicles, and a growing pool of blood at Matt’s feet…

Later

“The Sin-Eater?” asked Foggy incredulously. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Matt sighed. “It wasn’t the same guy. The heartbeats were different. There was something about the voice that wasn’t right, either. I don’t really know much more than that, to be honest.”

“What are you supposed to do about it?” Foggy asked. Inwardly, he was still angry at the fact that they had lost a witness on the Gardner case. Lisa Dudley could have been their trump card! Now she was just a red splatter left on the sidewalk.

“I’m going to have to do the same thing I always do,” said Matt. “You know what that means…” his voice trailed off.

“Yeah,” said Foggy. “It means I’m going to be working on another of our cases alone… again…”

Manhattan Rooftops

His footsteps thudded across the pebbles on the rooftops. Every sound flooded his senses. Any commotion was registered and all action was decided based on his perceptions. The changes in the air also carried clues, but faint ones at that.

Daredevil was on a hunt.

So far, since leaving Foggy, he had stopped two purse-snatchings, one mugging, and an F-list villain called the “Big Wheel.” There had been no sign of the Sin-Eater anywhere.Maybe I’m looking in all the wrong places, thought Matt. Maybe I need to be asking the people who are supposed to have things like this under control.

At NYPD headquarters, Lieutenant Samuel Hoffman sat at his desk, filling out a crime report. He looked tired, probably because he was. All he really wanted was to go home with his wife and children and relax. Something about the tapping on his window told Hoffman that relaxation was going to have to wait.

“What brings me the pleasure, Daredevil?” asked Hoffman, opening the window to let the vigilante in. The look on his face suggested that it was more of a bother than a pleasure.

“I need information on sightings of a new masked criminal,” said Daredevil. “The new Sin-Eater.”

Hoffman laughed. “I’m sure you already know more than we know,” he said. “All we got from witnesses was that he wore purple spandex, a green hood, and had twin Uzis and a sub-machine gun. Killed some FBI chick in the middle of the street. In fact, we wouldn’t know his name at all if he hadn’t told some blind lawyer who walked out to see it all go down.”

Daredevil nodded, not letting his expression give anything away. “Have you had any other sightings since the murder?”

“No, I haven’t heard a thing,” said Hoffman. He fiddled around with his pen anxiously. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a wife and kids waiting at home and my shift supposedly ended an hour ago.”

Daredevil nodded knowingly. “Have a good day, Lieutenant Hoffman.” He leapt out the window, and vaulted back upwards with a series of acrobatics. Hoffman shut his window, shaking his head in disbelief.

Hoffman finished up his report and walked downstairs. As he grabbed his coat and went toward the exit, a man in a heavy coat ran into him roughly. He didn’t stop to apologize. Hoffman didn’t get a good look at him. “That was rude,” he muttered, and continued on his way.

Seconds later, there was a sudden sound of gunfire. Immediately, every policeman stopped what they were doing, drew their gun, and pivoted toward the sound of the gun. Hoffman, especially, realized that it must have been the man in the big coat, and searched the crowd for him. He was gone.

So was Detective Tim Stanley. His eyes were wide open in shock and he seemed to be leaning back in his chair, arms spread wide open, lifelessly. On the ground, papers scattered, was a single folder: The Gardner File. Atop it, a card had been dropped, reading, simply, “Sin-Eater.”

Daredevil’s hearing picked up the sound of gunfire almost immediately. He turned on his heel and set course for the police station, arriving in just seconds. He was a split-second too late to see the man in the heavy coat slip to the ground from the same second-story window that he had left the station from just minutes before…

Office of Nelson and Murdock

Foggy sighed and rubbed his temples. Things were not going very well for him. If only, if only, he thought angrily. If only Matt would just give up on saving half the world for a minute and get his sad ass over here to help me! Still, all of the “if-onlys” in the world wouldn’t stop Daredevil from saving lives, and that was that.

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that Foggy didn’t realize the phone was ringing until the second or third ring.

“Office of Nelson and Murdock,” said Foggy. “Nelson speaking.”

“Hello, Foggy,” said a soft female voice. “It’s Liz Worth. I represent Dr. Henry Gardner.”

“Oh, hi,” said Foggy icily. She represented the opposition. There was no reason to sound nice.

“Look,” said Liz, sounding a bit exasperated. “We both know that this case is going to be a tough one for either of us to win. I’ve spoken with my client and he’s agreed to some terms that would prevent a court case.”

“Isn’t that a bit shady?” Foggy asked, scratching his head. “I mean, on the close side of illegal?”

“Not according to the terms Dr. Gardner and I have reached,” said Liz. “Just meet me in my office later today. How about five o’clock? It gives both of us enough time to finish what we’re doing and prepare for the meeting. I take it that you and Murdock would both come?”

“Matt left work early,” Foggy said, not lying, but not telling the truth. “Some whacko murdered a lady in front of him on the sidewalk today and I don’t think he took it well.”

“I understand,” said Liz. “Dr. Gardner will also be unable to attend the meeting.”

“Fine,” Foggy said. “Then we’ll settle it then.”

“I’ll see you later, Foggy,” said Liz Worth.

Neither lawyer knew what consequences the meeting could have.

Manhattan

Daredevil had a lot to think about.

To start with, this new killer seemed to be targeting people connected to the Gardner case. Strangely, the Sin-Eater must not have recognized Matt on the street—he was certain he and Foggy were both on the hit list as well.

Then there had to be a reason why this killer had chosen the guise of the Sin-Eater. If the killings were attached to the Gardner case, then there was no motive for killing them in the guise of someone who kills based on corruption. Matt had some ideas in mind, but nothing was concrete until he captured the man behind the mask.

Of course, if his theory about the Gardner case was right, Matt needed to get to Foggy so they both could go underground for awhile. Matt ditched his costume for his street clothes and went into the office to tell Foggy what he had found out.

His partner was nowhere to be found. “Foggy?” Matt asked, but his radar sense told him that Foggy wasn’t there.

Matt took another step forward and heard a crinkle of paper. He bent down and picked it up, letting his super-sensitive fingers read the text as raised images of ink on the paper. The note read: “Worth called with a deal on the Gardner case. I’m at her office. Meeting’s at 5, make it if you can. Foggy.”

“Shit!” Matt cursed loudly. He had to get to the meeting before the Sin-Eater finished the case for them all.

Office of Liz Worth

“It’s really all cut and dry,” said Liz, handing over the paperwork. “My client would be on probation for six months and in return, the charges will be dropped. Though innocent, he will perform fifty hours of community service as an act of good will because he wants to be able to grieve without a lawsuit hanging over his shoulder.”

Foggy sat back, rubbing his chin in thought. “I’ll have to consult my partner,” said Foggy. “The state will also have its own input. However, for now, I believe those terms are sufficient. Face it—neither of us has a concrete shred of evidence that leans either way. The best we could have gotten is a hung jury.”

“I knew you’d see things our way,” said Liz, smiling. She stacked the papers, her manicured fingernails shining in the light. “I’ll get copies of these to your office tomorrow.”

The sudden ring of a bell alerted the pair to a new visitor. “That must be Matt,” Foggy explained.

“Far from it,” said a sinister voice. The purple-and-green clad man walked into the room, leveling the gun at the lawyers.

“Wait—you’re the Sin-Eater!” shouted Foggy fearfully. He began to sweat profusely from the forehead.

“The who?!” asked Liz, backing up against the wall, as if it would somehow protect her.

“Don’t worry,” said the Sin-Eater. “I’ll paint my name on the wall in your blood, and then no one will forget it. And you two are corrupt lawyers, prepared for the trip to the afterlife. Tell me, do you believe you’re headed toward heaven, hell, or purgatory?”

He leveled his gun at them, and both Foggy and Liz cowered in fear against the wall.

BRAKKA-BRAKKA-BRAKKA!

Foggy looked down, expecting to see the floor painted red with his own blood. That wasn’t the case. He looked up in astonishment to see that the gun had been knocked downwards, ripping through the wood paneling. A red boot had kicked the gun down, and that boot belonged to Daredevil.

“Get out of here now!” he shouted at Foggy and Liz. She was too scared to move still, and Foggy had to force her out, grabbing her by the shoulders.

“I hate vigilantes,” said the Sin-Eater, recovered from the sudden entrance of Daredevil. “Do you know what the Bible had to say about the devil?”

“Which verses?” asked Daredevil, launching a kick at the Sin-Eater’s chest. The madman barely dodged the kick.

“You masquerade as an angel of light,” said the Sin-Eater, pulling out one of his uzis and taking aim. “You aren’t a hero, you’re evil, plain and simple. Anyone who pretends to be the devil can’t have good reasons, but ones that involve that deception.” He paused and tried to shoot Daredevil.

Matt nimbly dodged the automatic shots. “What do you know about the Devil?” he asked, gritting his teeth. It took all he could not to go feral on him. “Whatever happened to ‘Thou shalt not kill’?”

“My Father will forgive me for breaking a Commandment,” said the Sin-Eater. “Will yours?”

Matt gritted his teeth again. “You don’t know anything about my father.” He launched a punch that caught the Sin-Eater in the chest. He staggered backwards, but he did not fall. Matt knew that the fist had connected with some sort of rough, plastic armor. He had felt it all with his punch.

The Sin-Eater grunted. “Come the end, you’ll be tossed into the lake of fire, and I’ll be sitting high, watching you writhe.”

Matt kicked the Uzi from the Sin-Eater’s grasp. “Your pleasure is my pain?” he asked, as the Sin-Eater backed out the door, trying to run. “That doesn’t sound very godly.”

“I will be forgiven,” the Sin-Eater said mockingly. His second uzi was whipped away from his grasp as Daredevil pulled out his billy club. He turned to run, only to be knocked on his face by a flying kick in the back.

“You killed two innocent people today,” Daredevil said. “Why?”

“They were both corrupt. They were making up information and were prepared to send an innocent man to jail!” said the Sin-Eater.

“Who told you that?” asked Matt. “Perhaps I’m not the king of lies after all.”

“Even the Devil can spout scripture from his forked tongue,” said the Sin-Eater. Daredevil pinned him down to the ground. He felt the armor give away, revealing the boy’s body, trying to hide as a man.

“You’re just a kid,” said Daredevil, ripping off the mask. “Who are you? Why did you kill those people?” he demanded.

The boy laughed. “My name is Justin Kenton, son of Mary Kenton, one of New York’s finest ladies of the evening. The same woman who was raped by one of the ‘real’ New York’s finest, Stan Carter. It’s only fitting that I take up that mantle now.”

Daredevil shook his head. “No, no, no. That’s just wrong! The Sin-Eater was insane! He took a drug that affected his mind—it made him crazy!”

“I guess it’s inherited, eh?” asked Justin. He had one final trick up his sleeve. His glove had a pouch of gas in it that would knock Daredevil for a loop. In a single motion, Justin bit at his glove, ripping it, and sprayed the gas in Daredevil’s face.

Matt was thrown backwards and Justin managed to escape for just long enough.

“I’ll be seeing my Fathers tonight,” said Justin maniacally, before throwing himself in front of the bus on the street.

“No!” Matt shouted, as the bus screeched. He listened deeply and heard the faintest of heartbeats. An onlooker had called the police and sirens were on their way. Daredevil was gone long before the first policeman arrived on the scene.

St. Anthony’s Boarding School, later

Adam Keene was awoken rudely by a policeman shoving a badge in his face. Adam was pushed from the room by a second officer as Lieutenant Hoffman opened up a series of evidence bags. The microfilm copies, the Bible, and the scissors with the green threads on them were among the first things to be bagged.

Hoffman dug deeper, until he found a sheaf of papers. He thumbed through them, knowing he had found the information he needed.

Grabbing his radio, Hoffman radioed in to the team outside Gardner’s home. “We have solid evidence. Green team, go snag yourself a Gardner…”

Office of Nelson and Murdock, the next day

“How are you doing, Matt?” Foggy asked. He was worried about his friend and partner.

Matt grunted. “As well as you can expect.”

Foggy grimaced. “Strangely enough, I don’t think this was what Liz meant when she said that our case would be cut and dried.” He paused. Foggy knew that something the Sin-Eater had said had gotten to Matt.

“Look, Matt…You know that things are difficult here, but…take the rest of the day off.”

Matt allowed himself a small smile. “Thank you, Foggy,” he said. “I need it.”

Walking out of the office, Matt tapped the ground in front of him. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going, and didn’t plan on letting anyone know where he had gone.

Matt stopped at an old, wooden cathedral and stepped inside. It was dark inside, except for a small light coming from the confessional booth. Matt was the only one there. He stepped inside the booth.

“What burden must you tell me this day?” asked the priest.

Matt sighed. “Father, I have sinned…”