The Shadow Man Strikes! [Open]

Joe grunted and spoke the language of sailors as he struggled to pry the groaning metal door open. Bit by bit, he felt it give until... BANG. The door to the back of the jewelry shop swung open. Right as a voice came shouting down the hall for survivors.

"Shit!"

Joe couldn't stop himself from swearing aloud, before he realized that whoever called out was probably close enough to hear. Sure, he was behind a locked, cage door made of metal, but who was to say that search-and-rescue hadn't been given keys to all the shops? Who was to say there wasn't a cop or two with the team, if it was a team? Before anyone came running at the sound of the door opening, and Joe speaking, he slipped into the backroom, pulling the door closed behind him. Sure, it was busted and wouldn't stay closed, Joe gave the door half a minute or so before it swung open with a creak of its un-oiled hinges, but maybe it would hide him enough to set up a trap. Or go unnoticed.

For the moment, however, the closing of the door completely blocked out the light of the moon and stars. Joe was formless, unable to touch, but also unable to BE touched unless someone shined a flashlight in his face.

It was okay, he just had to wait, that was all. He just had to wait for the lady with big brass balls and guts to match to leave this section of the mall and search elsewhere for injured or dead shoppers. And if she came at him... well the Shadow Man had tricks up his sleeve. And a few tools. And a knife. And a gun with a few bullets, if he REALLY felt like he was in trouble.

Joe had grabbed a few of the guns and some of the ammunition after he absolutely desecrated the STRIFE agents' corpses... only to hear the flapping of wings coming from nearby. The search-and-rescue woman was coming back, of course, drawn by the gunfire. Joe left the remaining rifles and shotgun on the ground, he was more of a pistol man anyways, and shifted into the shadows. As a piece of darkness, he was impossible to spot, impossible to harm.

But when she arrived, the woman with the wings, who had identified herself as "Fairy 01", didn't try to grab Joe. She didn't even look for him. Instead, she just left herself vulnerable and open. Joe exited the shadows behind the cop/search lady, pulling a knife from his coat. It was a carving knife, stolen from some kitchen hundreds of miles away. A carving knife that had been lovingly, and regularly, oiled and sharpened. And whenever it wasn't in use, it was stored away inside Joe, where air and water couldn't make it rust and accidental scrapes and pokes wouldn't dull it. The knife was perfect for stabbing.

Joe stopped at a point just a few steps behind the woman's lovely wings. The knife would be silent. It would be quick. It would be absolutely mundane and leave dozens of questions about who killed who. Or 'who killed whom' if you were Joe's seventh grade English teacher. He raised the blade... and then stopped.

This absolute madwoman, with her big brass balls and steel gut, had decided to ask the monster that tore up men like tissue paper for help. And it wasn't for help fighting and killing, but... help finding survivors. This made Joe stop in his tracks. Nobody had ever asked him for help that way before. He'd never been called to do anything heroic or helpful, never been asked with a 'please' from a hoarse and tired throat. Perhaps here, on this island, he didn't have to steal and scrounge and kill just to survive. Maybe instead, Joe Dante could be a good man. A decent man that helped tired women doing their best to save people that didn't deserve to die.

Perhaps, but...

"Eh, screw 'em. And screw you, too, lady. Can't have any witnesses."

Joe brought the knife down right after he spoke, aiming for a spot where the neck and the torso connected. Right by the jugular. Of course, he had sort of given himself away to the woman with a fire-axe and some combat training and experience before he brought the knife down, so who knew if he'd even hit his mark.

Joe growled with frustration as Alice ducked, dodged, and literally flew away from his grasp. He considered pulling one of his freshly acquired pistols, but decided against it. Who knew if there were other search-and-rescue teams nearby, or if someone was already on their way from the sounds of the STRIFE agents shooting and dying? He needed to kill Alice quick, but he also needed to do it quietly.

"Not as far gone?"

Joe laughed at that repeated phrase, before he sank away into the floor. He entered the shadows, and used them to travel up the walls to the ceiling. There, he picked a spot that Alice seemed to be heading to... and popped out with an arm that was far too long for his body. That arm reached for Alice's belt, trying to grab at her flashlight with clawed hands. When Joe spoke, it was with a cavity in his body that looked like the outline of a mouth with sharp teeth and a serpentine tongue.

"Lady, I've been stealin' and killin' since before I could drive! My own grandma called me a son of Satan on her deathbed!"

More laughter, cruel and mocking came. There might have been something good deep down inside of Joe Dante, but it didn't seem willing to come out at that moment. Right then, he was the Shadow Man, the killer, the thief, the monster under the bed.

Joe growled as his fingers closed on empty air. Alice was pretty damned fast and agile in the air, he would give her that. Joe slipped back into the shadows as he set up for another ambush and another try at getting that flashlight.

"My own kind? Lady, you ain't Italian and I ain't a pig. You are not "my kind"..."

Joe followed and harassed Alice all the way down to the first floor of the mall. He popped out here and there, stabbing with his knife, or swinging a pipe, or slashing with hands that had turned into claws... All the while, reaching for, and failing to grab, the flashlight on Alice's belt. If it had been a standard old one, he wouldn't have been trying so hard... but new, LED flashlights were pretty damn bright. Bright enough to freeze Joe's shape and disconnect him from the shadows.

"Besides, yer a witness and I wanna have a few weeks before one of your friends in blue tries ta pinch me."

Finally, at the bottom floor, Joe Dante, the Shadow Man, stretched himself out into the monstrous face the size and shape of the hall leading to the front door. If he couldn't grab the flashlight, he could maybe try to grab Alice and swallow her up until he was somewhere more constrained, where she couldn't fly away. If she flew into him, Alice would find herself no longer flying through a destroyed mall, but floating in a dark void... unable to breathe, but not needing to breathe, either.

"Sonuva bitch!"

Joe screamed as he felt a pair of bullets blast where Alice shined her light. Now, thankfully, despite being struck in the forehead, he didn't have any sort of brain damage. His brain, if it was still a physical thing, seemed to have been spread throughout his body, with memories stored... somewhere that never got damaged. However, while he lacked a bunch of gray goo in his head, Joe also did not have a skull. Or sinew. Or skin, really. Instead, his whole body was made up of some sort of shadow-substance that, when tested with sharp objects, proved to have a consistency like jello. Thus, the double-tap left two fist-sized holes in Joe's body, holes that refused to close until Alice stopped shining her light on his head.

Once Alice stopped pointing her light at him, though, Joe was free to seal up the holes and stretch his way towards her. He grabbed her by the leg with one hand, while the other took her flashlight from her. Then, he bashed her onto the floor with enough force to make her drop her gun. As the pistol slid away from Alice's fingers, Joe tightened his grip on her ankle and pulled her towards a gaping maw beneath a normal, human shaped mouth that talked to her.

"Heheh... Nice try, but all your cop buddies are gonna find is your gun on the ground. I'm gonna eat you up, you know that? I'm gonna eat ya and take ya somewhere nice and quiet and alone and kill you slow and painful. Just because I can. BECAUSE YOU AND I AREN'T THE SA-"

A series of loud bangs echoed out from behind Joe, right as a half-dozen beams of light shined on his back.  Alice's legs, which had been about half-buried inside of Joe's body, were ejected as he pulled back and tried to get away from the light. Another dozen bullets blasted into his body, tearing new holes in him. Joe quivered and shook and shouted.

"Gawdammit!"

Seeing that the cops probably didn't know he wasn't in danger of dying... Joe took a fall. He toppled over and played dead, staying in his shape for a good minute or two... He didn't need to breathe, he didn't need to blink or swallow or any of the other little things that would betray life. So, Joe was able to sort of pull it off.

One officer ran to Alice, checking her over.

"No real injuries, except some bruising. She might have a concussion though."

Another cop poked Joe with his toe, then turned to look at Alice.

"Well, maybe she'll finally get some sleep at the hospital, get the EMTS here!"

The cops started to turn off their flashlights or point them in other directions as they wandered off to find the STRIFE team. Weapons had to be confiscated, bodies had to be processed and IDed, and Alice had to be carted out. Plus, a new search team would have to be formed...

In all the confusion, Joe took advantage of the first moment he wasn't being watched, and he slid into the darkness around him. His body healed itself in the comforting pool of shadow and dark, and he quietly, and quickly, slid out through a window on the second floor... And out into the night. Joe Dante, the Shadowman, had been humbled and hurt, but he'd gotten his jewels... and kept his life.