[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/OL5UVhe.png[/img][/center] [center][h2][color=Black][b][u]WHO KNOWS...[/u][/b][/color][/h2] [color=Black][b]PROLOGUE[/b][/color][/center] [hr] [i]The car is on fire, and there is no driver at the wheel. And the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides, and a dark wind blows. The government is corrupt, and we are all on so many drugs, with the radio on and the curtains drawn. We are trapped in the belly of this horrible machine. And the machine is bleeding to death. -Efrim Menuck, "Dead Flag Blues"[/i] [hr] [b]Queens, Manhattan 12:44am[/b] [color=DarkSalmon]"Nnnnghyeeeeahhhh,"[/color] grunted Officer Troy Vincent as he stretched, arching his back far enough that he felt a couple of satisfying pops and cracks. [color=DarkSalmon]"I could kill for a smoke right now."[/color] He had worked a long, uneventful shift that evening, handing out traffic tickets and shooing off loitering kids. Most of his evenings were like this now, long hours of patrolling the neighborhood, people giving him a wide berth as he passed, maybe a stink-eye or a sneer when they thought he wasn't looking. Even people who hadn't done anything wrong tend to get a little nervous in the presence of a cop.....maybe it was a power thing, or a race thing depending on who was on the street that day. Maybe being around someone who represented law and order made people think about the hundred little crimes they committed every day, the misdeeds they told themselves were necessary to get by.... Troy shook his head and picked up his pace. That line of thinking was what got him kicked off of Vice. Besides, his shift was over. He was off the clock and out of uniform; no point in painting everyone as a potential perp right now. After several blocks, he pulled out his phone and sent a text to his old partner, Donnie Skaggs. [i]Heading to the Thirsty Turtle,[/i] he typed. [i]If you're coming, I still owe you a shot.[/i] Skaggs was one of the few people from Vice who would still talk to Troy after the big falling-out that saw him busted back down to working the streets. They'd been working a case involving a human trafficking ring, kids going missing and turning up on sites in the dark corners of the internet. When evidence began to point to someone in the unit being involved, Vincent had gone straight to the Captain and began raising hell. Words were exchanged, followed by fists being thrown. If Skaggs hadn't been there to calm the Captain down, Troy probably would have been canned and maybe cuffed. [color=FireBrick][i]Hahahahaha.........[/i][/color] Troy's head jerked up from his phone at the sound of laughter, the kind of cold sinister laugh you only ever heard in old movies from his grandpa's day. Looking around, he saw the criss-crossed steel of the old Queensboro Bridge not far off, lit up like Christmas. His grandpa used to tell him about how someone saved his life on that bridge. He'd lost everything when the Stock Market crashed, and was going to jump from the bridge and end it all. But someone stepped in at the last second, gave old Henry Vincent a new lease on life, a new purpose. Troy's phone buzzed. [i]39th and 11th Ave. Now.[/i] [color=DarkSalmon]"...the hell?"[/color] Troy wondered to himself. Who knows what Skaggs had gotten himself into? [color=FireBrick][i]Haaahahahahahahahahaha........[/i][/color] That sinister, horror-movie laughter was closer now; Troy could feel a tingle run down his spine when he heard it. Tucking the phone away, he turned towards 39th Street and broke into a dead sprint. For what felt like hours, the only sounds Troy Vincent heard were the ruffling of his jacket, the ragged huffs and puffs of his breath, and the sharp crack of his shoes smacking wet pavement. His eyes stung with sweat, and his muscles burned. He'd always been in good shape, but now it felt like he'd been running obstacle courses all night. His vision began to blur, and he could swear that even though there hadn't been a cloud in the sky that evening, a thick fog was now rolling out from the alleyways. [color=FireBrick][i]HAAAA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-HAAAAAAAAAA......[/i][/color] Troy felt keenly aware of the weight jostling around on the left side of his chest: the pistol he kept in a shoulder holster underneath his jacket. He vaguely wondered if his senses would be sharp enough to get off a good shot if-- [color=DarkSalmon]"Shit!"[/color] Troy Vincent skidded to a stop on the unusually wet pavement, nearly slipping and falling as he approached the corner of 39th and 11th. Hanging between two street lights, one tied with a long chain to each arm so he hung in a crucifix position, was Donnie Skaggs. [color=DarkSalmon]"Oh shit, oh shit,"[/color] Vincent cursed as fog rolled in around him. Reaching into his jacket, he went for his pistol.... .....only to find it was gone. [color=FireBrick][i]The clouded mind cannot see,[/i][/color] came a dark, sneering voice that seemed to drip with malevolence. [color=FireBrick][i]You have nothing to fear from me, Troy Vincent....unless you interfere with my work.[/i][/color] [color=DarkSalmon]"Hey, [i]fuck[/i] you!"[/color] Troy spat, mustering every bit of courage he could. [color=DarkSalmon]"You just killed a goddamn cop, you think I'm going to let you go?"[/color] [color=FireBrick][i]Donald Skaggs claimed to serve the Law,[/i][/color] the voice said. [color=FireBrick][i]But the Law is a poor master. [u]I[/u] serve [u]Justice[/u]. Tell me, Troy Vincent.....what do [u]you[/u] serve?[/i][/color] [color=DarkSalmon]"Who....who the hell are you?!"[/color] Troy called out, his fists balled up in a fighting stance. [color=FireBrick][i]You once were a vice officer, yes?[/i][/color] the voice asked. [color=FireBrick][i]You thought you had seen the foulest reaches of the human soul, and that you could fight against it. But who can say they have seen the full depths of depravity, so that they may judge it? Who knows the face of absolute sin, so that they can destroy it? Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?[/i][/color] The fog that surrounded Troy began to dissipate, the chill in the air giving way to a warmer breeze. Troy's eyes darted back and forth in every direction, trying to find the man who had killed his old partner, but saw nothing. Taking a few tentative steps towards Skaggs' body, he reached for his phone to call it in. When he did, however, he found something else in his pocket, something small and plastic. Pulling it out, he saw it was a black thumb drive, with a dark red smear across it. That same dark red smear, he saw, glistened on the pavement below the hanging body of Donnie Skaggs. Written in red across the pavement of New York, were three words that hadn't been seen in decades..... [center][h2][color=FireBrick][b][i]THE SHADOW KNOWS[/i][/b][/color][/h2][/center]