Golden Age Heroes

Thank you toby...that would be cool...i would also give you the oppertunity to explore your characters origins and what made him the meta human he is today

Wait, this is 1935?

He showed up around 1940.

sorry ...new villian/hero then

Johnny Cadabre sat in the chair of his office reading the London Times. His office was really no more than the front room of his dumpy flat on the wrong side of London. He was, as usual, dead broke and had actually nicked the paper he was reading. The local coppers had strictly forbid him to involve himself in any further investigations after the fiasco last month. Hookers had started turning up dead, and the papers were calling it the 'New Jack Ripper' case. Unfortunately after a particularly spirited night of getting 'pissed', Johnny was walking home when he witnessed a cloaked man being more than a little aggressive with a 'lady of the night' in the back seat of his fancy car. Johnny's detective instincts took over and he'd tried apprehending the aggressor whom he was sure was the 'New Ripper'. It was unfortunately a visiting Duke from Whales whom simply had a penchant for spanking young ladies. By the time the Bobbies had arrived, he beaten the well to do Socialite with in an inch of his life. Thankfully the Duke could be persuaded not to press charges due to his own discretionary mishap. But the police had made it perfectly clear that Mr. Cadabre was to keep his nose clean and out of official police business under threat of imprisonment.

Johnny pulled the silk crimson Scarf from his desk drawer and took a deep whiff of the plum fragrance that still adorned it after all these years. If he would have had this mystical item that night the coppers wouldn't have ever caught him and one less high society type wouldn't have had to lie to his portly wife about a horse riding accident that never happened. He tossed the scarf back into the drawer and picked the paper back up.

' New Ripper Strikes Again!' The headline read. The story inside was another fear monger write up about some poor working girl that was almost unrecognizable when they'd found her in the dark alley. Scotland Yard press junket said that they were hot on the fiends trail and would have him apprehended within the week. They had said the very same thing for the last three victims. Johnny shook his head at the thought of their incompetence. Regardless of what the Bobbies had told him, he would be out tonight only this time his mystic scarf would be on his face and not in his desk drawer. Tonight it would be the Crimson Shadow prowling the streets.

Tobais woke up to his uncle barging into his room and opening up the long tapestries that covered the window. It was only 6:30 in the morning, barely lit up outside. "Wake up Tobais, breakfast is ready," His uncle said with a thick English accent. He groaned, he hated getting up at this hour. The snow was lightly blanketing the streets outside. This sight further motivated Tobais to stay under the covers. His uncle saw this and quickly pulled off the blanket and attempted to lift Tobais up. Tobais squirmed and with a small cry of frustration he said, "Fine," and got up. He proceeded to get dressed. He would get nagged about it if he didn't anyhow. He dressed up in some brown hand-me-down short pants, suits and knee socks and out on some dress shoes. The proper fashion for English boys. He went downstairs into the dining room.

There was a proper gourmet fit for King George VI. Figuratively speaking of course. King George VI would never visit such a lowly commoner's home. Tobais saw his seat, sixth one of the right hand side. He took his seat, pulling it close with both hands and crossing his legs under the seat. His plate had already been prepared for him. Tobais waited for the announcements where they would discuss their day. Tobais was to bring in a new shipment of boxes and put them on the shelves that were brought in earlier that day in alphabetical order. Tobais pouted at that very thought. It was cold out. The motion was made to a Christian reiteration of "The Lords Prayer" Tobais held hands with his aunt and mother and listened to his great grandfather say, "Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done, in earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, for ever and ever." At this point everyone said, "Amen," and that signaled the time to eat. He held the knife and fork with the handles in the palm of the hand, forefinger on top, and thumb underneath. He placed them down as he ate, applying the proper eating etiquette. It was annoying. Soon when everyone was done, the great-grandfather made a small nod which signaled the family to say in unison, "Thank you for this meal. May we be excused?" And the Great-grandfather waved his hand. A signal to carry on with their chores.

Tobais walked outside into the clearly negative degree weather. He saw the boxes piled up by the door. How and why no one ever attempted to steal these, he had no idea, there were some rare books in there too. Tobais shivered, frost coming out of his mouth. He was not allowed to wear pants. It was not proper attire for him. Tobais hurried and grabbed the first box, and ran in, slipping on some hidden ice that dripped from the roof of the house. Tobais used his foot to shut the door behind him. How these massive oak doors shut so easily was a mystery to him. Tobais tried to hurry to the library, the heavy box covered in heavy snow and ice provided a terrible grip. He barely made it to the library when he lost his grip on the box. He dropped it. He tried to make it so where it turned into a failed throw to make a little less effort to get the books closer. The box spilled apart. scattering wet books everywhere. Tobais was angred. He did not want to do this. He shoved the books on the shelves, not caring for the alphabetical order. Who cares? Let them yell at him. These books would not be touched again, so why not? Tobais stormed outside, muttering random French insults under his breath. He grabbed the second box, this one was not so covered in ice because the first one was on the top. It caught all the water snow and ice, and protected the boxes below.

Tobais carried this one in. It was easier without the weight of water slowing him down. He opened this box. Inside was a book written completely in Latin, on the front of it was what he would discover would be the array of transmuting carbon in various ways. Tobais had already took most of his anger out of carrying these heavy boxes in. Tobais picked it up, considering if he should put it on the shelves, or take a poke at what his family took so much pride in. Oh, why not? In spite, Tobais flipped it open to a random page. It had a corner folded in, bookmarked. This bookmark influenced this page to be opened on. It was completely in Latin, incomprehensible. But fortunately, it had pictures, on the left page, it showed a array of similar design of the one in the front. It had differences, but it was similar enough to mistake it as the same circle. On the right it showed a hand-sketched tree and an arrow pointing to a diamond. This caught Tobais attention. He considered, could he do the same? How easy was it? Maybe he could try it in his spare time. He put that book aside and continued his work.

He even put them in alphabetical order. He did not want any distractions tonight. There was a good 17 boxes to bring in, each containing about an average of 20 books of various sizes and names. Alphabetizing it proved a pain, as for each box were not in alphabetical order to begin with. In hindsight, it probably would have been faster to dump all the books in a pile and stack them in order and shelve them, but the cold made Tobais want to hurry inside and unable to think. He wanted back in the warm house. It took some time. By the time he was finished, it was nighttime, and some of his family had already went to bed.

Tobais took this book and a unlit lantern and looked around. He had done his job, the rest of the night was his to spend. He wanted to make sure no one saw him. He put the lantern down to open up a hand to open the massive oak doors as slowly as he could, so that way the hinges would not squeak. He picked up his lantern, and placed it outside. The lights of nearby buildings illuminated the streets. He stepped outside inside his own footprints so that way he would not make a crunch like if he stepped in fresh snow. He shut the door in the same manner as he opened it. He grabbed his lantern and lumped into the nearest civilian's footprints and followed them down the road. Once he assumed he was out of sight, he lit the lantern, it was one of those flint and steel lanterns, one where you push a button and it lights, rather than a lantern that needed an external fire source.

Tobais continued to walk down the road. He took a look at the book, raising his lantern so he could see it better. He started to have second doubts. What if this didn't work? What if he got a cold? What if something happened to Tobais from the illicit deeds of a criminal? Tobais suddenly smacked into a solid object, that was the Crimson Shadow invisible. Tobais fell, dropping both the book and the lantern. The lantern broke and was extinguished. This part of the city was dark, unlit by torches. Only the moonlight showed any illuminations. "Oh excuse me ser," Tobais said in a thick squeaky English accent. He held his left hand to his nose, checking for blood, whilst using his right to get up. "I did not see..." Tobais quietened as he tried to look around for who he bumped into. Tobais could not see him. He was hidden by the shadows of the night since he was wearing dark clothes, but footprints were visible, and led right up to him. Tobais felt around, yes there was someone there. But, who, why, what did he want? Was he a friend? Or a criminal? Tobais was scared. What was he gonna do? What if this guy was gonna kill him? Tobais locked up in fear, hoping for the best of luck.

Ines showed up to work early that morning. Her mother stayed at home, feeling under the weather, leaving Ines with the job of making sure her filing did not pile up. The ride to the office was littered by business men holding up phalanxes of newspapers. The front page of the metropolitan paper sensationalized the local deaths of women in the streets. A copycat Jack the Ripper for our new age of reason.

"Looking good Ines." The normal display of pleasantries presented themselves to her as she walked into the office. A gray suited man walked up to her. "I see your mother isn't here. All is well I hope."

"She feels slightly ill. Not worth the trip to work I guess." Ines spoke with her light French accent. She wore a red rose in her hair and a slick black dress with a heavy, white coat. "I see the authorities haven't gotten around to keeping you from your night job." She held up a new edition of the paper.

"You need to be careful out there. The man would love to get a hold of a little piece like you." Ines never felt comfortable around the man. He didn't seem dangerous, but rather inappropriate and his attempt at subversive flirting failed miserably.

"My mother just needs me to put her articles in proper order for the presses." Ines unwrapped the tied around her coat and hung it on the coat rack.

"Well if you need help..." he started.

"I'm quite capable of putting papers in order." Ines walked away with a flustered smile. Her mother's office always had a cold setting to it. The central heater of the building only kept the most central parts of the building warm. She sat down behind her mother's desk and began to put together the article on dining establishments. After she pieced it together she started on another article about the recent fall festival. The depression took it's toll on the festivities when it was needed the most. The final piece looked like a review of a nightclub in the lower districts. The name looked familiar. She took the paper out into the lobby and compared it to the daily edition. A murder took place in the back alley of the Yule Ole Workin' Time Pub. Her mother wrote about the pub taking away from the cultural boom that grew in that part of the town. The two things seemed rather disconnected, but still a peculiar happening.

Ines finished up the cutting and made her way to the copy editor for his approval. A man in his early fifties sat behind a desk covered in paper clippings. Ever news journal from around the kingdom lay on his desk. "Are these the cultural clips." Ines handed him the papers and rested her hands in front of her. She awaited the approval of the pieces. "This piece on the pub will need to be retracted. Police don't want any publicity of the evening events in that part of town."

"It's not really good publicity for them though."

"No such thing as bad publicity. Plus, after the murder, men will now know hookers hang around there. We add more publicity to that and half of London will be there tonight." He threw the article in the trash and put the rest in a crate for his next edition.

Ines took her coat off the rack and began her trek back home. She lived fifteen minutes outside of London in a quiet cottage with her mother. She rode the train out to her little hamlet, primarily a French immigrant hamlet, and took the brief walk to her home. She took out her key and began to unlock the door, but it opened as she touched it. The home looked ransacked. The sign of a struggle held in the air. Ines quickly made her way to the cellar and grabbed her shot gun and her katana. If someone stayed behind for her, she did not want to face him unarmed.

She scouted out the home, but heard nothing. The bedrooms looked as if no one bothered to enter them. After a sweep of the house nothing appeared to taken. Her mother's desk drawers remained locked, as did the family safe. The only thing that couldn't be found was her mother.

--If I make a character for this time frame may I join?--

'First things first' Johnny thought to himself, a good investigator doesn't involve himself in a case without some investigation into the matter. He pulled the theater make-up out of his desk drawer and altered his appearance enough not to be instantly recognizable. It was a trick he'd learned whilst stationed in China during the war. The all male thespians over there commonly played the parts of females in the dramas they put on and he'd picked up a few tricks of the trade from them. Although he wasn't cross dressing he knew how to disguise the features that people generally identified one another with. After a few minutes he look like just another down trodden dock worker.

He reached the bustling warehouse district and got in line with the others day laborers looking to make enough to put food in their family's bellies. His strapping physique was enough to land him a spot and soon he was sweating along with the common man. He did his best to make small talk with the men without drawing unnecessary attention to himself. It wasn't too hard to ascertain information about the recent string of killings around the area due to it being the latest talk of the town and most of the men already had intimate knowledge of the streetwalkers.

It seemed that there was other shady dealings going on as well; weeks before the killings started many of the local businesses had received offers from a well-to-do conglomerate of wealthy baron's that were set on purchasing their properties in order to revitalize the area. The hold outs seemed to have found themselves the unlucky recipients of being host to the scene of the murders. Most had sold quickly after watching property values start to drop with the locale's sudden notorious reputation. The Yule Ole Workin' Time Pub was one of these stubborn business owners and even after the last poor disemboweled girl's body was found nearly at his doorstep, he'd still refused to sell. It was just this kind of information that you could only get from the man on the street.

After finishing the day's labor, Johnny wasn't just rewarded with some desperately needed shillings, but some clues that already had his detective instincts pointed in the right direction. When he returned to his office that evening he washed up and adorned the disguise that marked him as a hero a the working class, the Crimson Shadow. Just after 9pm he snuck out into the back and found his way over to the dark alleyway behind the pub. Here in the cloak of darkness he hid and waited. Even without his mystic scarf's abilities evoked he was nearly invisible in the darkness. As he waited, biding his time an unlikely suspect entered the alley. It was a child, carrying a large tome. Surely these brutal atrocities hadn't been committed by this unsuspecting youth, but then why would such a frail young lad be sneaking about the exact alley that a girl not much older than he, been murdered just a fort night ago? Mayhap the killer was using the boy as a lookout, a crony too young to realize the true horror of his master's intentions.

Although Johnny disliked giving up the element of surprise, he could not see a way to not confront the child. He waited until the boy was distracted, looking behind himself for any onlookers, and then stepped out of his place of hiding. The boy slammed hard enough into the Crimson Shadow's frame to send him down,loosing his barrings and falling ass-over-teacup. The dislodged ancient tome he was carrying landed at Johnny's feet, while the lantern sputtered out.

"Scuse me ser.." Johnny heard him say, as he bent down and picked up the large book to examine it. The boy peered up but with the back lighting there was little more than a silluette for the child to see.

"What are you doing sneaking around these allies boy? Don't you know there is a killer on the loose? And what in god's name are you doing with this?" Johnny said in his manufactured gruff voice he reserved for the guise of his alter ego as he held up the ancient tome.

Tobais was scared. This man could kill him, right here right now. Tobais scurried up, breathing heavily, and and backed away. Slowly, hoping that this man was looking way from him. His right wrist stung from slow melting into an open wound. Tobais moved his left hand to his wrist, applying pressure and comfort to it. The man bent down, this scared tobais, it was the first movement he made since this encounter. Tobais stood still hoping he did not see him, but how could he not? He did just run into him after all. The man picked up his book. Tobais raised his scabbed hand in jealously, but withdrew it sharply. It was his, that man should not have it, but Tobais did not want to anger this man. He decided that if he can get away without the book safely, it would be acceptable for him. It would be the last time he considered going out at night.

Tobais's family was very interested in current events. Particularly the "New Ripper" case. They were very concerned about the safety of their family and out of paranoia, never allowed anyone to go out into town after 6:00PM at all. Even when they did go out shopping or whatnot, they would always go in threes, one of which had to be a male adult capable of defending themselves. This namely fell on his father and his three uncles. Tobais was not even allowed to go into the backyard and play. His family scolds him every time he tries saying that the "Serial killer will get you out there." Tobais found this stupid. Why should he care? What are the chances of the killer coming to HIM. Not very. He did not believe his family. Why should he? Of course this was preadolescence ignorance, he had yet to feel loss, pain or fear. He just could not comprehend the situation they were in. He did not have the wisdom of unconditional love and the desire to protect value. He had yet to experience that.

Until now.

Tobais could not move the fear stilled him as did the cold. This did not help any, "What are you doing sneaking around these allies boy? Don't you know there is a killer on the loose? And what in god's name are you doing with this?" The man said.

Tobais stuttered horribly, the combination of shivering and fear could not let the words be spoken. Tobais toyed with his fingers trying to calm himself down. it did not work. If he told him the truth, the man might hurt him in greed. If he ran, the man could easily outrun and overpower him. Leaving him only one choice: persuasive coercion. He would have to talk his way out of this. Tobais closed his eyes and hoped for the best, "Nothing," he said in a squeaky almost inaudible voice. He backed up as he said that. He hit the wall of a building nearby, Tobais looked quickly at the wall and back at the man. Tobais was shocked. There was no where to run, no where to hide, no where to be safe. Why, oh why did he not ask his family to do this? His family would have said yes. But now, it was too late. Tobais pressed his hands against the wall. his wrist stinging from the snow again. One could only hope to God would save him. Maybe He would be on his side today.

The bright headlights of the Rolls Royce showed at the front of the alley as the decedent car pulled around the corner on the street out front of the Pub. The Crimson Shadow acted quickly, knowing that there was no time to shoe the child away and not get spotted by the possible suspect. Johnny reached out and snatched the boy by the upper arm and pulled him into the shadows once again. The child resisted at first, obviously scared out of his mind.

"HUSH!.....Don't be scared boy you have nothing to fear from me, Just keep you mouth shut and your eyes open!" the Crimson Shadow whispered in a harsh growl. He couldn't be bothered with why the boy had the tome right now, this could be his chance to break this case wide open. He reached back and handed the boy's book back to him. "We'll talk about this later..."

The scarlet detective watched from his hidden vantage point as the luxury car pulled to a stop and the rear door opened. Indeed it was a well dressed man that emerged, but something didn't sit right with the astute detective. He watched as the man smiled at the call girls that lined the street. The man started toward the small group of tentative girls.

Having spent the entirety of his young life in the upper rungs of high society, Johnny was more that adept at spotting someone that didn't come from 'old money'. This fellow had a flat footed clomp of a walk that betrayed his facade, no man of fine breeding would be caught dead trodding the earth in such an unrefined manner. Also, although at a distance John could make out the filthy yellow dinge that coated this psuedo-rich man's teeth when he flashed his smile. It was a fact that would have been lost on a lesser man or one that hadn't spent the majority of his young adult life, hawk-eying Kaizer dog fights. The rough shave, the scarred brow of a barroom brawler, the calloused hands of a life of manual labor, all clues that betrayed the quick-shod disguise. This was his subject and he was sure of it, now all he had to do is wait to strike.

The brute approached the pack of three prostitutes and began to chat them up. It was just more fodder that pegged him as a man in disguise rather than a well educated puff that he was claiming to be. Unfortunately the girls lacked the intuitive powers of deduction that the Crimson Shadow employed and giggle the laugh of seduction that was par for their trade. After Johnny's last run-in with the mistaken baron, he could chance making a mistake, and if the girl got into the car voluntarily there would be nothing he could do to stop it. He needed a distraction and one that would force the probable killer's true colors to the surface.

"pssst....boy.....I will make you a deal....I want you to walk over there and bring up the recent string of killings that plague this township.....Do you know of what I speak?.....You bring that up to those girls and we may yet save one of their wretched lives....If you do this for me, I will forget to tell whom ever you stole that book from about you being in possession of it....What do you say?" The Crimson Shadow whispered. He knew the task would be scary enough on it's own but with the added fear of an actual killer in the mix it was surely daunting. "You have nothing to fear, The Crimson Shadow will let no harm befall you, This I swear!" He finished, flashing his chrome plated .45's to the boy for reassurance.

His only hope was that the boy had heard of his daring exploits over the last few months. The Crimson Shadow was starting to get a reputation around the neighborhood as a disguised crime fighter, especially with the young imaginative boys that found these sorts of daring vigilantism the stuff of wildest fancying. "Well what do you say....are you brave enough to help me?"

Tobais started to whimper, the fear overtook him for sniveling and crying. Almost on cue a car came driving on the road. As it turned it shone its headlights brightly into tobais's face. Tobais eyes had yet to adjust to such drastic change of light. He squinted and raised his hand to shield himself from the light. Who would be driving at this time of night? Why would they? This distraction calmed him down. He was no longer focused on the severity of dying right now. Almost right as if it was a signal, the man grabbed his raised arm and started to drag him to a nearby alleyway. Tobais cried out sharply in shock. Soon this sharply dressed man stepped out and walked to some revealing women. Who were they, why wear such clothes in this weather? How could they? So much was happening so fast. Things were too scary for Tobais was at the brink of bawling his eyes out crying. He tried to wipe away his tears and just as he was about to cry out loud The man said, "HUSH!.....Don't be scared boy you have nothing to fear from me, Just keep you mouth shut and your eyes open."

Tobais held hands to his mouth to try to stifle his crying, was this the killer? What did this man want with him? Why did he want him quiet? The second man started talking to the women and they laughed at him. Tobais did not understand prostitution, or sexual attraction at this point. It was just ridiculous for them to be meeting here at this time just to exchange jokes. The man who Tobais bumped into stepped down to whisper, pssst....boy.....I will make you a deal....I want you to walk over there and bring up the recent string of killings that plague this township.....Do you know of what I speak?.....You bring that up to those girls and we may yet save one of their wretched lives....If you do this for me, I will forget to tell whom ever you stole that book from about you being in possession of it....What do you say?" This calmed tobais down, he got to play hero. How conveniently ironic. Plus, he would get the book back. This was a win-win for Tobais. He would get to walk away. Scathed only by a scab on his wrist, and a bad night. The man pulled out a big fancy gun out and pointed it into the sky. Was he gonna shoot the other man? Or maybe the women? Was tobais gonna be attacked? Only one way to be sure: get it over with. "Well what do you say....are you brave enough to help me?"

Even calmed down Tobais had trouble keeping the tears away, With a nod and a wipe of tears, He said in a broken voice, "Okay." and went to walk to the women. Tobais short body made him invisible and unnoticed by the unconcerned group of people. When he arrived he tugged on one of the woman's transparent knee- high transparent skirts and said, "Ma'am." Catching everyone's attention. When the lady turned to look at Tobais, Tobais at this point was showing every sign of being cute: Crying, lost and scared. The woman bent over and with a soft voice the woman said, "Awww, whats the matter little boy? Where's your mommy. Are you lost?"

Tobais fiddled with his fingers, stuttering and squeaking a little he said, "Umm, a-are you aware of the serial killer in town?" He mispronounced 'serial' and squeaked at town.

Ines strode down the stairs to the garage with her armaments to the basement garage. She opened the trunk and of an Auburn Cabriolet and slid her rifle, shotgun, and tommy into racks designed to open up presenting the weapons. She slid her katana into a top position in the trunk and went back to open the garage door. The car roared up the cement ramp into the open air of the evening.

Ines roared through the rural roads into the streets of the city. The first place to check would be the now infamous club. Ines didn't see this ending well for anyone other than her and her mother. First, she needed to stop at a source her mother spoke about. A detective her mother met by supplying tips about criminals within the city. Ines thought that her mother's disappearance would interest him.

She entered the station leisurely and walked to the desk. A young, fresh faced officer sat behind the desk and greeted her warmly. "Evening mam."

"Evening." The accent Ines spoke with always garnered her some extra attention from locals. Not necessarily the fact it was French, but the fact that an Asian spoke English with a French accent. "I'm looking for a Cadabre. Johnny Cadabre."

"I don't know what good he'd do you. You should stay away from him; he's a dangerous fellow. He's a P.I. not an officer miss. If there's anything we can do for you, I assure you we can help more than that ruffian." The officer asked in a downtrodden tone.

A brief silence overcame the office as Ines took out her handbag and dug through to find a pen and paper. She flashed a fading smile to the young man and walked backwards. If this man lived up to the expectations the officer painted she knew where he would begin his investigation.

Ines would now make good on her plan to investigate the club.

The thug dressed like a proper gentleman, turned his head slowly to regard the boy. The hookers; who were wearing low cut blouses and hiked up skirts stared down at the boy in awe. Firstly because it was a strange thing to say for a boy his age, and secondly because of the large book he was carrying and the coincidental appearance of a school boy fresh from studies with the exception of what time of night it was.

"ha........What did you say deary?" The one that was less put off by what he had said replied after a short hoarse laugh of disbelief.

Just then a voice erupted from the blacked out interior of the car; "Don't just stand there, you buffoon, Grab one!" Said the tone of a well educated man hidden in the depths of the cabin of the Rolls Royce.

The thug didn't hesitate, his big calloused hand reach out and snatched the arm of one of the girls. She squealed and tried to resist while her friend grabbed her other arm and began a tug-o-war. The Thug in fancy threads, wouldn't be deterred and started to drag her toward the car, smacking at the child's head to get him out of the way.

With a subtle reddish fog manifesting on the top of the shiny black sedan, POOF, the Crimson Shadow appeared out of nowhere, his twin .45's drawn and leveled at the thugs head.

"Don't bloody move mate....I've got you cold!" He announced in his gruffly disguised voice.

With that the Luxury car exploded into action, it's wheels peeling rubber on the cobblestone street, The Crimson Shadow tucked into a roll and came off the top of the car speeding away, leaving the surprised thug. Anger washed over the working class villain's visage and with that he was out for blood. A large butcher's knife came out of his jacket and he started slashing about at the air around him.

Tobais saw the ladies turn to him, Tobais was confused on his feelings. One one side, Tobais felt excited about being able to be a sidekick and help out a hero, Or at least this is how he perceived it. On the other, He was scared about who this fancy man was. Tobais was fairly sure he was the killer, and he did not like being around him not one bit. Tobais actually got a chance to look inside the car. It was odd, There were no lights inside. How odd. Did they smash them out to stay hidden? Or did they have lights at all?"ha........What did you say deary?" one of the ladies say. And right when she was distracted, Tobais heard a voice come from inside, "Don't just stand there, you buffoon, Grab one!" Tobais looked in the direction where the voice came from. As commanded the man went to grab one of the ladies. The other one tried to help her friend. Tobais tried to help as well, but he got smacked away. The tears started pouring out again. It hurt, Tobais did not know how to cope with pain any other way yet. Tobais held his head with his open hand and stumbled away trying to get away from danger. He collapsed onto the nearest wall sitting with his knees to his face, He watched the events unfold. Soon, the crimson shadow appeared out of nowhere onto the car with a silent explosion of red smoke. How was this colored in the darkness, Tobais had no idea. Tobais was amazed when the gunpoint threat came to the murderer.

"Don't bloody move mate....I've got you cold!"

This was so cool in his eyes. He was living any action bedtime story in real life. His mind was off the pain of his head and onto the crimson shadow. Pain no longer existed. Tobais got up and when he did the man inside the Rolls Royce grabbed the door and squealed away, leaving a massive cloud of smoke, noise and an awful lingering smell of burnt rubber. The crimsom shadow jumped off the car. Or at least thats what it looked like to him. But the fight was not over yet. The thug pulled out a big knife and started to attack him. Tobais could only watch and cheer for the crimson shadow.

(Toby there is still street lamps, just no light in the car....You'd see the red mist)

There was little Crimson Shadow could do to stop the well dress thug, he'd taken quite a spill of the top of the car, and although he landed amicably it wasn't enough to out maneuver the charging bull with a butcher's knife. The larger man was charging full steam at our masked crusader swinging the knife while pulling the girl behind him.

Even in the excitement of the scuffle, the master detectives analytical mind was working at full speed. Obviously the killer wasn't a lone subject, whom ever was in the back of the blacked out Rolls Royce was in on it. The butcher's knife was definitely sharp; and he found out as it slashed across his abdomen; but it wasn't the sort of technical blade that was responsible for the other murders.

The Crimson Shadow deflected the next slash with the butt of one of his automatic pistols and tried to back pedal to his feet again.

"Unhand her fiend!" He ordered the thug as he scrambled upward. But it was too late, the bar brawler wearing tailored clothes got a good shot in. The blow, of his clenched fist holding the knife slammed into The Crimson Shadow's jaw sending him backward again.

The abandoned thug smiled and laughed heartily. "You shouldn't minded yer own business, This ain't all Hallow's eve anyway ya mask wearing 'Jim-dandy!'" The criminal snarled as he advanced on the downed hero, knife glinting in the lamplight.

Ines sped through the lower burbs of London, kicking up littered pieces of trash and loose newspaper. The club she sought out lay only a few miles before her. She thought her anger burned more explosively than any other source in London.

She was wrong.

A car burst into the road, sending Ines to the sidewalk. She slammed on her breaks with all her might, attempting to avoid collateral damage from any on lookers. A large well dressed man brandished a butcher's knife at a masked man. Not knowing the details of the event, Ines judged the situation by the knife. The ongoing saga of the ripper and the abrasive mannerisms lead to the next course of action.

She reached to her side and pulled on the latch that released the latch on the trunk and grabbed a trip wire. She threw it towards the man's knife in an attempt to disarm him. Hopping out of the car she raced towards the trunk, flinging it open and pulling the Winchester out by the handle. She loaded a pellet pouch into the chamber and fired the blunt pouch towards the man's stomach in an attempt to incapacitate him.