THE GHOST - SHORT STORY
Preface: The Ghost is a superhero created by Bob Wood. He first appeared in Daredevil Comics #5 in 1941. He is currently in the public domain. The idea behind him interested me, and I wanted to flip it around. I love you all. Enjoy.
He was a hero to many people. He walked through the city, each crevice of the blocks, corner stores, apartments, and casinos. No inch of the city was untouched by his presence. If there was danger, he would come to stop it before the first bullet made impact or before the first knife made impact. As a matter of fact, since his emergence, the only violence-related deaths in the whole city were committed by him. He was a role model to the kids, a protector to the old, and a nightmare to the evil-doers!
On this night, rain poured down, as if 1000 planets around the earth started to cry or sweat. He heard there was a mugging and that the offender was on the loose.
Not on his watch!
The sun had gone down by noon, and the nights lasted long, until 11 a.m. The "sun hour,” as the people called it, was the most peaceful hour and the only time of day that he wouldn’t be around, sniffing for ruffians like a dog.
He started to fly through the skylines; his nose did not deceive him. The smell of fear has a stench greater than the gas that the power plants emit.
His eyes began to track each alleyway. The city was built like a maze so that invaders would get lost in the flurry of winding streets. Invasion in the 20th century, though, was unheard of! Peace had become normal on earth, so there was no reason to treat the city like a labyrinth haunted by bloodshed. Not with Brad Hendricks, The Ghost, as its Guardian Angel.
The Ghost saw a man, no more than 20 years old, running down King Avenue with more haste than a dog towards a steak. “Not today, evildoer!” He exclaimed.
His skeletal mask, which he wore at all times, terrified any crook unfortunate enough to come across it. As The Ghost descended down, ready to apprehend the thief in one blink of an eye, the dastardly excuse of a man fired a shot without warning.
BANG!
The Ghost was struck in the neck. The criminal, his hand splattered with blood, shook like a tree in the wind. He thought he had killed the patron saint of the city.
The Ghost then shoved his hand deep down his wound, extending it so deep that he resembled a man pulling weeds from the ground, rustling around his cold flesh until he picked the bullet out of his throat.
He tossed the bullet onto the concrete street.
“I-I-I panicked! I’m sorry!! Sir.. Take the purse! Take me to the police station! I surrender! Please don’t hurt me! I was scared you’d kill me, and I acted in haste! I-I” The scummy thief shook uncontrollably, the purse he stole gripped in his hand and the gun in the other.
“Throw me in a cage and burn the key! Just don’t touch me! I have a family!” The crook fell to his knees, begging for mercy.
The Ghost walked closer to the criminal, who was crying tears of terror at this point.
“Here’s the purse! The weapon! I’m guilty! I did it! I surrender!” He threw the two items onto the floor; his heartbeat was so fast that he couldn’t stop grinding his teeth.
The Ghost yanked the lawbreaker up by his shirt collar!
“Please…” The man begged.
The Ghost stares at the thief, his expression completely unknown to the man, as his skeleton mask conceals it.
The Ghost moved his hand up above him! The criminal covered his face, fearing a punch.
The Ghost shoved the man’s hands off his eyes, forcing him to stare down at his punishment.
The Ghost ruffled around with his hood and took off his mask.
The criminal spat and shook; his eyes started to bleed. As he spasmed, he started to yell in a loud shriek, in a language that was closer to gibberish nonsense than any worldly speak!
The Ghost stared. The man’s skin started to peel, like a snake shedding skin, until his bones started to shatter. One by one!
Until, after a minute or two, he flopped onto the ground, no more than a sheet of thin, pale flesh, his bones reduced to dust, and all his blood escaped his body.
The Ghost calmly put back on his mask and strided down the street with the purse in hand.
“Madam! I have retrieved your purse!” He exclaimed to the elderly woman, shaking on the side of the road at what she saw. The Ghost walked over to her with a tone of triumph and relief in his voice. “Justice has been served, and any of these hooligans like the one who snatched your bag ought to know... Stay in school! Don’t come to a life of crime! Crime doesn’t pay! Live the American way! The only way! That’s what a hero should say!” He handed the blood-stained purse back to her.
“Thank you so much; you're my hero!” She replied.