Daredevil & Elektra - The End

[B.M.F.]

What's up guys? I've been working on this Fan Fic for a long time now, and it's alittle over half done.

I'm huge fan of both Daredevil & Elektra characters, and when they're both in a story written by a good author, it's an instant classic, for me, anyway.

A while ago so many 'The End' stories were coming out about our favorite comics (Wolverine, X-Men, Hulk) and I began coming up with so many great ideas for the supposed 'final' stories of my favorite comic book characters. After writing notes off and on for the story for nearly three years I finally have the urge to write it out... And I think it's on par with Bendis's work with both characters.

It's only 15 pages, so it shouldn't take too long to read. But please post your comments!

The Kassad Case Conclusion


BenUrichArticles.com​

I, Ben Urich, 40-year reporter for the Daily Bugle, am writing this for my own website. ‘The Bugle’ would not even consider running this story. It’s too long, too detailed, and much more truth than their readers can handle.

Supposedly, it’s an attorney’s dream to be in a court case followed by national news coverage. Every news organization from Fox News to the Daily Bugle had been eagerly awaiting this case’s verdict for over a year. People had been crying for blood after a whole family had been hideously murdered in their own home, and an Arab had been accused. The case immediately received national attention and media coverage. Rodall Kassad, a single 27-year old Arabic-American citizen had been judged guilty by the American public long before it went before a Grand Jury.
Kassad was a poor gas station attendant with no money to pay anyone to effectively defend him in court. Yet many attorneys volunteered their services for little money, but secretly only wanted national exposure to help their careers, not caring what the outcome of the court battle would be.
One lone attorney, on his own dime flew to Dallas, TX to ask Kassad a single question… ‘Did you kill that family?’ and the attorney liked his answer. For no money at all, he fought to have the trial moved to New York, under the premise a fair trial could not be conducted where the crime had been committed.
For over a year, Kassad had lived in a New York county jail, leaving only to see his court dates. Constantly threatened, beaten, and raped by his cell-mates and guards. Mentally traumatized to the point he would need serious psychiatric help when he got out of jail, if, he gets an acquittal. If not…
Kassad, at best, looked like he recently got out of a Nazi concentration camp. The 85 pound man had not eaten for a month, saying the day he walks free, is the day he makes a breakfast buffet go out of business.

For Defense Attorney Matt Murdock, the 72 hours between the Jury Instruction and the Jury Verdict were the worst of the four month long trial. There was nothing more he could do to help his client. He did try. During the day, he was at the courthouse talking to reporters. In the evening, he was working on possible appeals at his office and being prepared for any possible scenario. And at night, all night, he was praying at his catholic church. Never stopping to eat, sleep, or relax.
When reporters talked to Murdock they usually comment on his commitment and passion in the courtroom, and ask repetitive questions that began with ‘Why do you care so much for…’ and the reporters usually filled in the rest with something obscene referring to his client, and then expected Matt to answer. But by reputation, Matt Murdock is not someone to let injustice walk infront of his blind eyes.


I was in the courtroom when the Jury came back with the verdict. Matt Murdock was sitting with his client, Rodall Kassad. Kassad still wearing the handcuffs and orange jumpsuit he was ordered by The Judge to wear in every courtroom appearance. The jumpsuit was 5 sizes too large for his 80-pound frame.
The Jury came in and the verdict was read, ‘Guilty of five counts of first-degree murder.’ And Rodall Kassad let out a scream/moan/wail I did not think was possible from a man of his size and health to produce from his vocal-cords. I can only describe as sounding like a dying cow after being shot by a 12-guage.
Murdock, for lack of a better term, snapped. He demanded a verdict reversal, The Judge denied it. Murdock yelled for an explanation, and continued to yell what an embarrassment to the court this verdict was, and how the Judge was an embarrassment for allowing this case to come to verdict when it shouldn’t have got past a Grand Jury.
A few hours after the jury’s verdict, this senior citizen reporter is sitting in his warm home, in a comfortable chair, typing on my computer as Matt Murdock sits in a cold county jail cell for contempt of court.

A long time ago, before I became a reporter. I used to get disgusted when I hear a child rapist gets out of jail early for good behavior. I became angry when a known dirty cop becomes the chief of police. I threw up when I heard evidence had been mishandled and it helped a serial killer being acquitted. I became enraged when all around me I saw Lady Justice herself being raped by those appointed and swore to protect and serve her.
But I don’t get enraged, disgusted, angry, or throw up anymore. I got used to it, accepted it, and went on with my life. I just said ‘That’s life, as disgusting as it is, I can’t do anything about it.’ I didn’t judge it, I just reported it, and have been reporting it for over 40 years now.
I’ve taken the easy road. 99.9% of us take it all the time. But there has been one person I know of who has never taken that easy road. Not once.
Matt Murdock.
Every day of this man’s life has been on the hard road. Every single personal relationship he ever has is shattered, because of his loyalty to do what he believes to be right religiously, lawfully, and morally. He has seen many friends, two lovers, and his own father die in his own arms. I don’t believe anyone on this Earth has emotionally suffered more than Matt Murdock since Jesus Christ himself. In all of the pain of his life, I have never once seen him snap, until today.
And, Jesus Lord. I pray he doesn’t break down when he hears the news about Rodall Kassad being murdered in his cell.

(Next Post)​

 

[B.M.F.]

Part 1
4:00 PM

In county jail, cells were made eight by eleven feet of cold hard concrete. Matt sat on his bench with his elbows on his knees, hands over his ears, trying to concentrate, rather than hear anything going on within a 400 meter radius. A puddle of tiers was on the floor, now dried, and a second puddle next to it still damp.
The dry recycled air attacked Matt’s nasal passages, the concrete was rough to the touch. The water tasted as if it was taken directly from the gutter. In the six hours he was here it brought back bad memories from when he was at Rykers, good God, he had almost allowed himself to forget those months. He understood how Kassad could slowly whither away after so many months in here, loose the will to live, loose the will to eat… but thankfully, Matt knew Kassad wouldn’t be in jail for a day longer.
“Matthew Murdock, you have a visitor,” the guard said “would you like so ‘see’ him?” Matt was in no mood to have any visitors, no reporters, no admirers, no Daredevil fans, and he was in no mood to give the guard’s horrible unoriginal joke a response.
“No,” Matt hissed “Visitors.”
Matt heard the approaching footsteps of someone… he knew? He wasn’t quite sure they were very familiar but a little off…
“He’ll ‘see’ you now,” the smiling guard said as he opened the cell door.
Matt let a small smile escape from the side of his face when he now realized who it was. “Make one more remark about my friend’s handicap, Sergeant,” Foggy Nelson threatened “and I promise you’ll be working a school crosswalk in a week.”
Foggy took a seat on the bench directly across from Matt and smiled “it’s been a long time, old friend.”
“It has.”
“I wish I could ask if you’ve been doing well, but I already know the answer.”
Both men just sat for a long moment reminiscing to themselves, the history of nearly thirty years, from being roommates in law school, building a law practice, the court battles, the friendship, and the eventual breakup of the partnership after twenty-five years… both men thought to themselves while in each other’s presence.
“I’ve been following the court case closely, through Ben Urich’s articles on his website. I read his article about this morning, and CNN has been playing videotape of the verdict and your breakdown in open court. We need to talk.
“First, I want to know the reason you took this case all the way from Texas, to here. The real reason, not the ‘because he is innocent’ crap you tell the reporters when they ask. Yes, he is innocent, but there’s more to it.”
Matt could feel Foggy’s intensity as he spoke, and scanned the surrounding area with his ears for any recording equipment… there was none. Matt took a deep breath and said.
“It was a typical national news story about a killer who killed a whole family, according to every news reporter on Television, right? With each and every report I heard, I recognized the eagerness from the reporters to see this man fry… because he was the same country many terrorists are from.
“I wanted to know the truth, so I flew to Texas to ask him, and I took the case. And you know why I took the case, because he is innocent. But yeah, there is more to it.
“Whenever I wanted to talk about the case, the possible trial, the people’s case against him, or anything… he wanted to talk about his family and homeland. He was so vibrant when talking about Iran, his beautiful wife, and seven daughters, how he came to the States to go to college so he can provide and give what they need and deserve. He believed in the criminal justice system and he would be out in a matter of days, for the first month, and then three months, but after five months he began to change. That vibrancy had began to fade away the longer he was in jail. The less he talked, the less he ate, the less he cared about anything except that verdict. He knew it would be an acquittal.
I fought with everything I had to get him out. So he could go home to his wife and daughters, so he would get back that vibrancy he had in his voice. So he could walk free.”
“But no attorney would fight that hard for…” Foggy began.
“You should know me well enough that I am that attorney that fights that hard for his good innocent clients, even if they can’t pay him a dime.”
“Matt, there is something else…” Foggy started “about Kassad…”
“Shived four times in the lower back and fives times in the chest cavity. He was already dead when his roommate slit his throat.”
Foggy’s eyes were wide “The guard told me no one has given you the news.”
“It happened four floors above me, about 75 yards east, in an enclosed room. I could hear the shiv scrape against bone. What’s more interesting is how I heard the ‘thank you’ from Kassad before he was murdered.”
“A thank you?”
“Most murders are the result of hate. This one was of mercy.”
“What?”
“Even if he was sentenced to the needle, he would never make it close to it. His health was failing, even if they forced him to eat, it would have prolonged the inevitable. Kassad wanted to die, slowing dying would only prolong his suffering.”
“You sound like you support this murder.”
“I couldn’t have stabbed him, but it was the best thing that could have happened to him, besides an acquittal.”
“Matt, you think this is funny? You client died!”
“When the Foreman announced his death sentence, I blew up. That sentence was taken out. Justice was served, right? Or should Daredevil have caused a jailbreak?”
The silence between the two was deafening, Matt could have heard a pin drop half a mile away.
Matt hadn’t seen Foggy for a while now, and he began to wonder what kind of conversation they would have if it wasn’t such tragic conditions… “When you were walking down the hall, I wasn’t sure if it was you or not, your footsteps are much lighter.”
Foggy hadn’t laughed so hard in a good long time. Not so much Matt made a joke about his weight-loss, but it was under such bizarre conditions, both of them sitting in a jail cell after having such a serious conversation.
“Forty pounds lighter,” Foggy said “and looking damn good if I say so myself, since my wife says so herself.”
“How’s your son?”
“He’s making me wonder if I was such a pain in the ass to my parents when I was in the 3rd grade,” Foggy joked “How’s your daughter dealing with her father being a 24 hour a day lawyer?”
“She isn’t. She moved to San Diego two years ago with her mother, I write her once a month,” he sighed, for a moment, thinking of her. “Probably for the best.”
“You aren’t very good at lying to yourself, Matt, never have been.”
“Hey, I…”
“An impressionable six-year old girl with a single parent, living in California is for the best?
“She only had me here in New York,” Matt said “and my work…”
“Is your obsession,” Foggy said.
That comment stopped Matt dead in mid-speech. His lips couldn’t move as his mind soaked up Foggy’s words… as it soaked up the truth.
Foggy wasn’t done…
“The world is ugly, only once a single man has ever changed the world, and even then, he had disciples. You have no disciples. There is one thing I know you can change, for the better…
Your daughter.”
“She might be happy where he is, her and her mother…”
“You don’t know for sure.”
“I can’t quit being a lawyer…”
“Matt you were a born lawyer, and you should never stop doing what you were born to do. Just don’t be a lawyer twenty-four hours a day, be a lawyer eight hours a day on weekdays while your daughter is at school. Go home to be a father and when she goes to sleep… Don’t go out and be Daredevil.”
“Daredevil’s retired,” Matt said.
“He is?” Foggy asked “I thought he was in hibernation.”
“He got too old, he can’t do any good if he broke a hip five times a night.”
“Maybe if he retired earlier, we’d still be partners.”
“You got married and had a kid, there wasn’t enough room in your life for Daredevil, and Matt Murdock is included in that package.”
This was reminding Foggy of all of days Matt and he spend in the office, waiting for clients, wait, no… innocent clients to walk in. Matt was usually healing from the night before, so they always had a lot of talk time.
“There might be room for an old friend interested in working a schedule consistent with public school hours.”
Matt raised his head and pointed his blind eyes straight at his friend in all seriousness. “You came down here to offer me a job? To be partners again?”
“Actually, I came to give you the news that Kassad was murdered, I this jail is made out of solid concrete. But the job offer? Completely spur of the moment… I can use your counsel.”
“Foggy, there are so many factors, I don’t know…”
“The offer’s always open.”
“I have to speak to my daughter, her mother…”
“No pressure. Oh, and The Judge did want me to bring you some other news.” Foggy motioned for the guard to open the door “you’re released.”
“Oh,” Matt said “now you tell me.”
“You didn’t enjoy catching up?”
“We could have caught up someplace else.”
“If we could get past the bloodsucking reporters. This place was quiet.”
“To you,” Matt smiled.
“Want to go have dinner? I know of this great…”
“Can’t. I’ve got to go home and write a 70-page letter to Kassad’s wife and seven daughters.” The mention of Kassad killed the happiness of the conversation, filling it with the memories of the court case and his death.
“Alright Matt, give me a call.”
“I’ll stop by.”

 

[B.M.F.]

Part 2
7:12 PM

Matt was beginning to fall asleep in between paragraphs of his letter. He was determined to get it finished in the next few hours. One moment he was typing, trying to plan his next paragraph, and trying to think of another dozen ways to explain and apologize to a wife how he could not save her husband.
He felt a loving body walk up behind his chair and his face was cupped by the warm hands of the woman he has loved all his life. Her blonde hair hung and tickled Matt’s neck and shoulders.
“The boys are spending the night over at a friend’s house, Matt, the girls are over at my mom’s, can’t you just step away from that keyboard just one night and spend some time with me, baby?”
“Karen, just two more hours… this whole letter will be over, it will be done. We can start spending more time together, and with the kids.”
“Until you find another defendant…” Karen said “that’ll be in a week.”
“No. I’m seriously thinking about spending more quality time with you guys, and working fewer hours.”
“Promises. More promises, just what I want to hear. More promises I know are going to be broken.”
“I’m serious this time,” Matt insisted.
“Then finish the letter in the morning, Red. How about we go your favorite restaurant? I can get reservations so they’ll have a table ready in an hour, let’s get all dressed up and go out… it’s been a year.”
“Karen, no, not now.”
Karen’s hands undid his shirt and slowly caressed his chest and abs “And when we get back, we can make love all night long… please Matt.”
“Karen, stop. Mrs. Kassad is now a widow, thanks to me. I promised her I would send her husband back to her. I failed. Just another broken promise? Not to me. I want to get this in the mail to comfort her as soon as possible, she deserves so much more, but this is what I can send her now. Karen, tomorrow, we’ll go out and have the whole night. I promise.”
Matt continued typing as he could hear Karen’s breathing… she was getting upset, they hadn’t spent any time together in the last year. None. Maybe a kiss here and a short conversation there, but how he has time to spend with her and he has to type a foreign woman, an extremely long letter.
Karen bent over and looked at the computer screen “forty-three pages,” she said.
Matt could feel her heartbeat rise, the grinding of her teeth, sweat running down her neck. She was enraged with hate, suddenly and completely. Matt was only more surprised by the blade of a sai appearing at his neck, held by the love of his life.
“A letter for the death of your client is forty-three pages long,” she said as she slit her husband’s throat, ear to ear “and at my funeral you couldn’t think of anything to say.”


“Karen!” Matt yelled as he woke up at his desk. There was no one around to hear his cry… Thank God. Matt was soaked in his own sweat, with organized red marks across his face from his face being on his keyboard for the past hour. Matt wiped the sweat off his face and tried to compose himself.
Karen. Karen. Karen. How she inspired Matt’s dreams and haunted his nightmares. How Matt’s insecure thoughts allow him to imagine how happy his life would have been if she was still alive. Or possibly she would be an unsatisfied wife. Or worse, if she became his wife and had his children and learned to hate Matt for being Daredevil and a lawyer. No, that would not be worse, anything would be better than she being dead… she would have left him and found somebody better than him.
Or…
just maybe…
The death of Karen Page was the death of his only chance ever to be happy.

Shut up. Matt just needed some sleep. Working on eighty-five hours now, with the exception of the hour nap he just unwillingly granted himself. This amount of sleep deprivation was extremely unhealthy for both the body and mind. His heightened senses were dulled down to the sharpness of a drunk man. His body was screaming for rest. Hell, until tonight, he’d never accidentally dozed off in his life.
Matt stood up from his desk. He had to get this letter done now, but he couldn’t deny himself a break to compose himself, if only to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep again. He popped pain and herbal energy pills followed by a three-course meal to sit in his stomach when he slept. Matt walked back to his desk, wondering if he could concentrate on the second half of the letter, but he wouldn’t sit down.
He couldn’t continue. He had to get something out of his head. Matt had to see Karen.
The desk drawer unlocked and Matt held a large piece of hardened clay. Matt held it in his left hand as his right fingers caressed the molded face of the love of his life. The mold was a birthday present from Karen nearly twenty years ago, so Matt could touch her even if she was gone. But she was gone, she was dead, and Matt couldn’t begin to calculate the hundreds of nights he held her face mold and walked around the office they worked in, or at home in the bed they shared. It was honestly the most sentimental possession Matt owned, more valuable to him than his father’s boxing gloves, his daughter’s baby finger paintings, or the long hair clippings of an ex-girlfriend named…

“My apologies for sneaking in, Mr. Murdock.”
The shock of being caught off guard… the mold fell to the ground… shattering into a couple hundred pieces. It was the first time Matt was ever taken so completely surprised when his senses were so dulled. Not being to hear someone creeping up on him.
He just broke his only face mold of Karen. He just broke Karen’s face. He just broke Karen. The son of a ***** that surprised him just broke Karen. That son of a *****. Matt’s fists were clutched so tight his fingernails almost broke the skin.
“Who in the fu..!!!” Matt yelled.
“…Mr. Murdock, my name is Anthony Markowitz, and I couldn’t wait for your normal business hours, my friend, time is of the essence.”
Matt fought with all of his self-control to keep himself from grabbing his Billy club from his desk and beating the man’s head in until Matt would need a lawyer. Matt wanted to do it, only his little bit of rational thought was saying that this fool had to be desperate to attempt sneaking up on Daredevil.
“You have ten seconds to spit out what the hell you want!” Murdock shouted.
The man was dressed in a 1890s three-piece suit and top hat with the Irish accent to match. He held a cane and walked toward Matt with a slight limp.
“Ironic, someone who used to jump around in a devil costume saying ‘The Hell.” Matt grabbed him by the collar and shoved him up against the wall, lifting him a couple inches in the air, choking him.
“You trespassed on my property in the middle of the night so if I kill you right here I’ll be completely justified! I’m a lawyer, I know!” Matt yelled in his face.
“I am being hunted, Matthew Murdock, Daredevil, Man without fear,” Anthony chocked out. Matt let go and he fell to the ground.
“For I am a man with fear of someone you were once close to,” Anthony continued as he was catching his breath.
Matt knew who Anthony was referring to, it didn’t lessen his rage but Matt did compose himself to appear more professional. Matt took a seat at his desk as Anthony regained his breath.
“Well then, sir, as a lawyer I would be happy to help you write a will, maybe recommend a funeral home, and a priest to hear your sins.”
“Mr. Murdock, I don’t think you understand, I need you to protect me, or talk to her.”
“That would not help you, believe me.”
“I am begging you, Mr. Murdock, I have my beloved wife, three boys, and I have flown from Ireland just to meet you, but she has followed me here…”
“I understand we have a few hours,” Matt interrupted.
“No! No Matthew Murdock! We have minutes! We need to…”
“I have my priest on speed-dial, confessions over the phone are just as holy in the eyes of God.”
“More than just your eyes are blind if you don’t realize what I am begging you to do. Please, my three boys. I too was a boy who grew up without a father…”
“You’re lying,” Matt said. It was when Anthony first rose his voice the first time, Matt recognized a familiar growl in his voice, and sound waves bounced off his face differently. To anyone with sight, Anthony was wearing a very deceptive disguise.
“Excuse me?” Anthony was shocked. He just poured his heart out infront of this former superhero, and saying his life was on the line. The superhero not only says no, but calls him a liar to his face?
“You’re lying,” Matt said coldly “So get the hell out of my building.”
“Well then sir, I bid you a good night,” Anthony said as he turned to leave through the front door.
“I will… Lester.”

Anthony stopped dead in his tracks, nonverbally admitted what Matt already knew. It was as if the room seemed to get colder, the deception was stripped away, Lester’s lies laid bare.
“Don’t remember your own name, Lester?” Murdock mocked “For the last ten years you’ve been wearing someone else’s face, talking with someone else’s voice… since your plastic surgery, have you ever taken a sharpie to your forehead and drew a Bullseye?”
Lester reached for his neck and peeled of his second skin, and tossed his plastic face to the ground, he re-adjusted his throat so it would talk with his normal voice. His shaved head looked as if it hadn’t seen he light of day in a decade, but ten years couldn’t cover up his branded forehead. Lester turned back around facing his archenemy for the first time in years. He breathed slowly and heavily… oh how he dreamed of this moment.
“Tonight, I am going to die by my terms, either by your hand, or by hers after I kill you.” Lester hissed with his real voice “So, devil, one last round? But this time, the knockout is going to be a killer.” Murdock pulled out his billyclub and tapped it on the top of his desk, nonverbally accepting challenge.
“But, please, put on the costume? Devil?”
Murdock shook his head “You’ll be seeing the Devil soon enough.”
“Fine then! I can’t wait!” Lester threw a bladed playing card at Matt’s neck. Without flinching, Murdock caught the card mid-air.
“Same old tricks. Got anything new?” Matt taunted.
“Nope!” Lester threw three more bladed cards at Murdock. Matt dodged two of them, but was directly hit in the shoulder… Lester hadn’t slowed down in the last fifteen years.
Murdock blocked and dodged Lester’s projectiles, basically anything Lester could get his hands on in the office he threw, trying to keep Murdock at a distance and wearing him down with occasional hits. Adrenaline was keeping Matt’s pain from slowing his speed, but he was bleeding bad, he had to end this fast or the blood loss would be fatal.
“Gotta admit, I missed tangling with ya from time to time, horn-boy. But, you’re no longer a boy are you?” Lester yelled as he threw a crystal vase like a baseball. “Far from it. You’re old, far past you’re prime!”
Murdock wasn’t as fast or flexible as he once was, but neither was Lester when he received a direct hit to the chin from Matt’s billyclub. Lester was dazed long enough for Murdock to rush up and utilize his Tai kickboxing to Lester’s abdomen, trying to kick the air out of him, and beat his head until he could think no more.
Lester’s lights were lit up and were about to be beaten until they broke, but he was able to execute a cheap kick to Matt’s crotch. Matt tried to back away before Lester could capitalize and was too slow. Lester hit him with an attack Matt had not ever been hit with in his life, Lester cupped his hands and boxed Matt’s ears. Matt’s head rang like he was just hit with a sledgehammer and senses were completely disoriented. He was defenseless, he couldn’t tell where he was in his office, if he was crawling toward or away from Lester… his crotch throbbed like it was just stomped on by soccer cleats.
Matt crawled as fast as he could, until he was in a corner. He couldn’t sense it, but he knew Lester was walking toward him, with something very big in his hands. The pain wasn’t going away, he still couldn’t get up, and he… was good as dead.
Blood was pouring out of his mouth and nose as Lester grabbed the three-foot long crucifix hanging over on the wall. He looked at Matt just sitting in the corner. He smiled.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, the death of Daredevil,” Lester stalked Matt “No style, no begging, no jokes, no comebacks.” Lester rose the crucifix over his head to beat Matt’s head like a watermelon “Just ****ing die.”

Suddenly the room became pitch black, Lester couldn’t see anything. The glass roof of his office shattered and a figure came down as the hundreds of square feet of glass rained down into the office.
Matt was uninjured by the raining glass, but he heard Lester’s screams of pain. He couldn’t tell if the screams were from the dozens of bits landing in his back or bare head, or from being unmerciful attack by the figure.
Lester was screeching out cries starting out as ‘No! Not you!’ ‘Get away!’ and ended with screams of pain as he was cut and stabbed in superficial areas. Matt heard another large plate of glass shatter as Lester was hurled out into the street infront of his office building, breaking acouple ribs. Amazingly, Lester was able to rise and do the only thing he could to defend himself… run.

Matt was pulling on pieces of furniture to stand up, and his radar was slowly coming back to him. He could feel Lester’s attacker standing by the broken front window across the room, she was looking at him. She took a moment to stop her attack to just observe Matt, to silently acknowledge she was in the same room. Matt didn’t say a word, and neither did she. As fast as she appeared, she was gone. Matt couldn’t tell if it was his dulled senses or one of her tricks, but she just disappeared.

“The ****ing *****!” Lester kept saying to himself as he sprinted down the street in New York City. He horrified tourists with his bloody face, they would have been even more horrified if they knew it was Bullseye, the number one most wanted man on the FBI watch list. Lester began running through alleys to avoid the public’s screams. He slit a homeless man throat, switched clothes, and stuffed his corpse into a trash can. Lester hoped it would make him harder to track… his old clothes were soaked with blood from his face, his scalp cut dozens of times, his mouth pouring out blood from his internal injuries, and his back still had large pieces of glass sticking out of it.
He didn’t think his lame disguise could trick her for long, if it tricked her at all. He needed a car, now. A carjacking would be like firing a gun in the air and yelling ‘Here I am, *****!’ He needed to steal a parked car, and what a better place to find a parked car than a massive parking garage. There was one acouple blocks away, so he covered up his head with a trashed cowboy hat, and limped down the alley.
For a $50 a night auto garage, it was easy as hell to sneak into. The whole damn place was packed with sport and luxury cars, the Eagles must have been playing tonight. He could steal anyone of them, a Benz, Audi, Lexus, hell, even acouple Aston Martin within eyesight. Then drive out into the endlessly jammed traffic of New York’s streets and disappear into anywhere in North America. It’s has acouple more hiding places than Ireland. The ***** will never be able to find him again.
He walked over to an Ashton Martin and the door was unlocked! Who in the hell leaves their three hundred thousand… he heard singing.
“My fear comes alive, in this place where I once died…”
Lester’s eyes widened. It was her, the *****. Her voice was echoing, he couldn’t pinpoint where the ***** was at. She was ****ing with him, singing lyrics from a metal band, his favorite metal band at that. He needed to get out of here, now. He couldn’t take another attack.
“…Demons dreaming, knowing I’m…”
Run. Run, Run, Mother****er run. He didn’t have time to hotwire the car, he took off down the middle of the parking garage road. He needed a crowd to disappear into, she wouldn’t attack him in public. He just needed to get out of here. Where the hell is she?
“…I just needed to Re-align.” Lester turned a corner towards the exit. She was standing infront of him, smiling.

10:10 P.M.

“My God!” Dr. Tru Faith said when she saw Matt step from the elevator “Matt you should be in the hospital section, not down here in the morgue!”
“This needs to be done,” Matt replied, still fighting a massive headache. He limped through the halls, behind Dr. Faith, and past dozens of bare examination tables. Apparently, it had been the slowest night in years for the NYC morgue.
“When he came in, I knew immediately it was him though I had never met him. Therefore, I need another eyewitness to identify him. I immediately thought of you,” Dr. Faith explained.
“Eyewitness?” Matt asked.
“I mean, I thought you would like to confirm his death, for your own satisfaction,” Dr. Faith replied.
“Tru, if you think the reason I came was to relish his death, you didn’t know me as well as you thought you did.”
“No. Actually Matt, that’s not the whole reason I asked you to come.”
They both walked through the final door and the body was lying on an examination table, the body bag zipped down to his waist, showing his naked chest and arms. Matt could smell the dried exposed flesh.
“Sixteen lacerations on his upper back region, five lacerations on lower back, eight on each shoulder, and ten on his skull and face, all estimated causes were from falling glass. Six broken ribs, broken nose, cracked jaw…” Dr. Faith started.
“All of that would slow him down, Tru,” Matt interrupted “what killed him?”
“Probably the forty-two deep lacerations all over his body, by some kind of knife,” Dr. Faith said “I don’t know if the two sai through his skull, or his heart being cut out killed him first.”
“Say that again?” Matt asked.
“He was found in the 5th Avenue garage complex, hanging by the ceiling from one of the sai on that table.”
“That’s the same garage…”
“What was that?”
“Nothing Tru,” Matt apologized “continue, please.”
“One was embedded vertically from the bottom of his jaw to the top of his skull, and the other was stabbed straight through his forehead, through his ‘bulls-eye’ brand to the back of his skull. Interesting how they were aligned at a perfect ninety degree angle. I believe those were the killing blows. The cutting of his heart out of the chest cavity was supposed to be a message, to you.”
“To me?”
“I’m no detective, Matt, but when we were together. You mentioned the only jewelry you’d ever given to a woman was me and one ex-girlfriend. You described that piece of jewelry to me, remember?”
“Yes,” Matt replied.
“This was found in his chest cavity,” Tru handed something to Matt.
Matt hung the necklace from his hand, just hearing the sound of the tin links chiming together, with the heavy jewel at the bottom, it was the first time in thirty years he had heard it’s sound. He never expected to hear it again.
It was his engagement necklace to Elektra.

 

[B.M.F.]

Part 3

Matt was starting to wonder if she was going to show up or not. He was waiting infront of the New York City University Library for what seemed like an eternity, but was only twenty minutes. He couldn’t help counting the clicks of the clock tower hundreds of feet away and imagining all of the possibilities what could have gone wrong. He had to see her tonight. Maybe she accidentally fell asleep or couldn’t sneak out…
He heard someone running a quarter mile away in his direction. It was her, it had to be her. As the runner came closer he could hear her breathing, the impact of her sneakers on the pavement and grass. It was her.
‘Ok Matt, it’s her, she’s coming. She didn’t forget, now concentrate on what you’re going to say. Don’t concentrate too hard, it’s usually spur of the moment, right? You always come up with clever jokes and remarks whenever you’re around her, just like in your mock trials in Law class.’
But as she came closer to him, he could read her vial signs. When she saw him, Elektra’s vital signs perked up when she recognized him.
“Matt, do you have any freakin’ idea how difficult to sneak past my bodyguards at this time of night is?”
“Elektra, you’re even more beautiful when you’re angry.”
“Shut up. Matt, I want to spend time with you, but not tonight. I have hundreds of things going on this next week.” She wasn’t lying, she never lied to Matt. Elektra wanted this to be a quick ‘Hi Matt, Bye Matt’ conversation, she felt guilty, she hasn’t had any spare time in the last week to be with him. Think Matt… what could get her to stay longer?
“Did you like the flowers?” Matt asked.
“You sent those?”
“Actually, this cute redhead that sits behind me in Spanish gave them, and I can’t be going around carrying dozens and dozens…”
“Shut up!” Elektra smiled and lightly smacked Matt on his shoulder. It had been forever since they joked around.
“I don’t think teasing you will ever get old.”
“I could tell you all of my hundreds of classmates that have…”
“…You’re bodyguards drive a Mercedes Bens, right?” Matt interrupted.
“Yeah, are they?”
“That’s them,” Matt pointed at a pair of headlights down the road heading straight towards them, well over the university speed limit.
“How the hell did they…” Elektra started.
But Matt took her hand and sprinted in-between buildings and unlit parking lots for quite a distance. Elektra wanted to go home soon, but not in the custody of her ‘all brawn tux-and-bowtie’ bodyguards and hearing endlessly how she’s going to get them fired. Matt and Elektra finally rested outside the university gym.
“I think we need to exercise here more often,” Matt joked, a little out of breath. Elektra was exhausted.
“And the quarter-mile track,” Elektra smiled
“I thought the dosage of sleeping powder in the delivered pizza would have knocked all four of them out for hours,” Matt said.
“One of them wasn’t hungry, hard to imagine, and he kept waking the others up.”
“Next time I’ll…”
“Matt, why did you want to meet me tonight, at this time?” Elektra asked
“We’ve been busy all week; we haven’t spent any quality time together.”
“But why today, Matt?”
“Because in twenty minutes, it’ll be tomorrow, and I wanted to be with together today.”
Elektra was becoming impatient “WHY – 2 – DAY?”
“You know why,” Matt said smiling, he loved teasing her, building up anticipation.
“I want to hear you say it.”
“Because today is our… time to run because your bodyguards are watching.”
The same headlights of the Mercedes Benz shined on them from down the street. Once again, it was Elektra’s pursuers. Elektra was shocked how they could find her twice now. She and Matt took off once again into the night. Matt ran to a late-night taxi, ripped Elektra’s headband out of her hair.
“Matt! That’s…” Elektra objected.
“It’s a tracking device,” Matt explained.
Matt threw it in the Taxi’s trunk and gave the driver a five dollar bill with a command to drive to downtown New York City.
Matt and Elektra jogged some more to the University’s gardens, the wonderful smells tantalized Matt’s nasal passages and there was enough moon light for Elektra to appreciate the beautiful plants.
“Now that we are finally completely alone,” Matt went in for a kiss, but Elektra’s face moved away.
“I am covered in sweat, and as exciting as sneaking out of house and running away from my bodyguards across campus is. But I’m meeting my father at the administration building first thing in the morning, so I need to get some sleep,” Elektra said as she walked away “I’ll give you a call in…”
“Two years,” Matt said.
All it took for Elektra to stop dead in her tracks were those two words, she looked back into his eyes, she was starting to believe he didn’t remember.
“That’s why I couldn’t wait,” Matt explained “I needed to see you on our two year anniversary.”
Elektra wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She hadn’t smiled like this since her father gave her a pony for her sixth birthday.
“We met tonight infront of the library, two years ago,” Matt hugged her around her waist. “We ran to the gymnasium where, one year ago, you told me you loved me, I said I loved you. Now… Elektra, I don’t know how to ask this.”
Right there, in New York City University Gardens, Matt Murdock kneeled down infront of Elektra Natchios. He took her hand and asked “Elektra, will you... wait a second.”
Matt pulled a necklace from his pocket. It was made of tin, with a large jewel hanging from it. The center of the jewel was made of gold dust, in the shape of an ‘E.’
The necklace and jewel were displayed in Matt’s hand for Elektra to see as Matt said the words that made Elektra shake “Elektra, will you marry me?”

Elektra’s hands were shaking, blood rushed to her head, and her heart thumped in her chest. Matt’s little confidence began to break when a long minute had passed and he was still on his knee, waiting for an answer to the most important question in his life.
Matt could feel the sound of Elektra’s eyes wetting and tiers were falling down her cheeks. She was crying because she was about to reject him.
“This isn’t, I know, the most romantic setting,” Matt started “it’s late and cold. This jewel all I could afford to be made… Elektra, I’m sorry, this was a mistake.” Matt put back the jewel into his pocket.

From her silence, Elektra finally whispered “I love you.”
“Wha…why… what was that?” Matt asked.
“I mean, Of course I’ll marry you!”
Elektra wrapped her arms around him and they kissed.
“Well, put it on, Matt,” Elektra smiled.
Matt held out each end of the necklace, and fastened it behind her neck. The beautiful jewel hung down to her heart.
“I’ll never take it off. I love you Matt.”
“Say it again.”
“I love you,” she kissed him passionately, and they wished this one moment would last an eternity.


Part 4 and 5 coming soon.

Fisk is next.


BTW, my bad. I'd love to make this into a Microsoft Word format Link, or Adobe Reader. How can I do that?