The cry reached Matt Murdock's ear, despite the fact that he was sitting quietly on the balcony outside of his office, with Foggy Nelson sitting next to him. Murdock's ears pricked up, followed by a turn of his head.
"You hear something?" Nelson asked, looking up from one of their files.
"A gunshot, someone screamed." He stated. He was used to such things. After living in New York since he was a child, he realized that there was a time and place for everything. There were some crimes that even his alter ego couldn't prevent. In many ways, Murdock lived to play Devil's advocate. "Then... Khonshu?"
"Huh." Foggy said, "What do you think it means?"
"Run an internet search on it, see what you can pick up. Track recent news results, as well. If there's anything on any public government databases, find it and see what it means."
"You got it. Where're you going?"...
..."To find out who fired the gun." Murdock hollered back, a confident smirk upon his face.
...Daredevil was perched on the rooftops overlooking the alleyway where the scream had come from...
..."Franklin." He said, pressing on the communications earpiece, "I'm at the area where the scream originated from. I'm picking up four distinct scents. No pulses, though. Whoever was here is either gone... or dead. Any luck on what Khonshu means?"
"Uh, yeah." Foggy said, typing in the background. "Khonshu was an Egyptian god, and was viewed as the deity charged with taking care of the moon. Nothing on any government databases, though it looks like there's a small cult with various groups worldwide that still worship the god. Looks like you might be dealing with a deranged member of one of those cults."...
...Daredevil dropped down from the roof, landing hard on the ground in the alleyway. He picked himself up and surveyed the area. Next to a dumpster, he smelled a body. He moved quickly to the man, slumped over, and listened intently, hoping to pick up a pulse. He grunted in annoyance when he learned that the man was dead. He ran a hand over the man's forehead and felt a crescent-shaped scar embedded in the man's skull tissue. On the man's body, Daredevil picked up faint traces of gunshot residue, booze, and French perfume. Either the man had been having a very good evening, or had been ruining someone else's.
"Franklin, I've found a man here. He's dead. If I had to guess, I'd say he was the shooter."
"Someone encroaching on your territory?
"I'm not sure. That's not all, though. He had a crescent moon-shaped symbol carved into his forehead, right down to the bone."
"So, someone's taking out thugs in the city in the name of an Egyptian God?"
"It looks that way." Daredevil said, his low, raspy voice echoing about the alley, "I've placed a sonar beacon in the immediate area of the body. It's operating a resonance frequency that should enable me to pick up on whether or not anyone shows up and revisits the crime scene."
"You're thinking that the guy might go back to visit his handiwork?" Nelson asked.
"It wouldn't be uncommon for individuals such as this to want to relish in their kill once again."
"What're you doing for the rest of the night?"
"I have the killer's scent, so I'm going to follow it. I could be gone for several hours, but I need to get started before he kills again."
Without responding, Daredevil cut the line and began steadily following the trail of the killer. It took him several minutes, but after a few moments, he realized that the killer had gotten to the rooftops. That meant that he wasn't dealing with some teenager. In all likelihood, he was dealing with someone much like himself, someone who relished in preying on the fearful and stuck to the shadows. Someone who would know he was coming.
And, yet, Daredevil pressed on, following his nose.
