News had spread fast on the streets about the killings, not through the media, but rather by word of mouth.  Nobody outside of the neighborhood of Waterbury had ever cared about some two-bit whores like Nancy, Mary, or Rachel; and word of their gruesome murders at the hands of some slasher probably hadn’t even been reported to the proper authorities.  The pimps just hung closer and carried bigger knives and guns to guard their investments.

That fact didn’t comfort girls like Opal who often found herself working a strip of dive bars without the protection of her pimp.  She viewed each John suspiciously and they in turn were put off by her apprehension. She hadn’t turned a single trick all night.  Business was bad, and tonight it was worse.

“That’s it, Margo, I’m heading home.”, Opal said loudly over the din of the bar’s juke box to her tawdrily dressed companion.

“What about Vinnie?”, Margo responded, “He won’t like you coming back empty handed again.”  Margo was right, Vinnie’s temper was legendary.  Opal decided she needed to do something.

She looked around nervously.  The whole place was filled with suspicious types.  Then she caught the gaze of a man who seemed to radiate the creeps.  He was seated at the far end of the bar.  For a moment, he stared through the hazy smoke and shadows, emotionless, cold down to Opal’s bones.  She felt unable to move or speak paralyzed by fear.  The man’s spell was broken only when a knot of men walked past talking and laughing, interrupting  his line of sight.

“I’ll think of something on the way!” Opal stated, hurriedly picking up her purse and pulling on her inadequate jacket over halter top and mini-skirt.

“It’s your neck, honey.” said Margo flatly, returning to her flirtations.  Opal glanced back at the bar as she stood up, but couldn’t spot the creepy John.  She quickly made her way to the door.

Outside, the air felt lighter.  Opal took a deep breath and began walking down the road through intermittent pools of light cast down from streetlights above.  She stopped beneath one to light a cigarette still shaken from the creep in the bar.  She glanced around, the entire street was empty.  “How can I go back to Vinnie with nothing, there has to be somebody around here somewhere” she muttered to herself.

The lone figure of a man emerged beneath a streetlight back up the road.  Opal took a final drag before dropping the butt and stepping on it.  Another chill ran down her spine as she caught sight of the stranger.

“Screw Vinnie,” she muttered,  “I’ll sleep in a doorway somewhere safe!” and continued walking briskly along her course; yet, she believed she could still feel the figure behind her, following.  She couldn’t bring herself to glimpse over her shoulder or stop and check if her intuitions were true.  On Opal went, driven by an unceasing fear which grew with each panicked step.  Soon terror filled her brain.  Her heart raced.  Was she running?  “Yes, run!” her mind screamed, her body had already responded.

Minutes later, gasping for breath, she was forced to stop.  Opal became aware that she had inadvertently fled into an unfamiliar area.  Quickly, she ducked into an alleyway; panting, her breath billowed out as great gusts of white vapor in the cold night air before being consumed by the heavy darkness all around.  Suddenly her heart stopped, there was the sound of footsteps with her in the shadows of the alleyway.  A large, neatly dressed man walked out of the gloom, knife in hand, his face twisted by an insane grin.  Opal opened her mouth to scream, but nothing happened.

“Hello, Opal.” he whispered eerily.

She seemed little different than the others he’d followed: over teased platinum blonde hair, under dressed for the cold late autumn night, and over done make-up covering a face as worn and dirty as the streets she worked.  This one’s name was Opal, he’d heard her friend call her that earlier.

Opal did, however, appear visibly nervous while the others had all seemed not to know or care about the danger they were putting themselves into.  From the shadows, Hugh watched the two prostitutes talk for some time.  Opal was agitated and kept looking around the bar while her inattentive friend would flippantly say something as she eyed prospective Johns, presumably to comfort her.  It wasn’t working.  Suddenly, Opal’s furtive gaze met Hugh’s, her eyes widened as the moment grew.  Had she guessed that he’d been observing her?  He felt it best to leave.

Seizing an opportune moment, Hugh drifted back into the deep shadows away from the bar, passing through their cold darkness and out upon the roof ledge.  Standing between worn statuary of long dead saints, Hugh looked down, the breeze tugging on his long dark cloak, as a handful of individuals entered and left the establishment below.

A brief time later, Opal burst out of the door then paused, perhaps still aware she was being watched. Hugh waited until she had quickly headed down the empty road, before dropping into the dark narrow passage between the bar and the adjacent building.  It was another second before the coast was clear, then Hugh soundlessly poured around the corner and onto the sidewalk.  Sticking near the storefronts, he kept his distance from Opal.  Something would happen tonight, the streets were not empty, he could feel it coming.

As he followed , Hugh remembered being as afraid as these whores he’d tailed recently, afraid of what might lurk around the next corner, or what may lay in wait amongst the shadows. But now, that had changed with the gift of his new powers.  He had become the thing everyone, both good and evil feared, the darkness, the Shade.  Perhaps this would be easier than he thought.

Opal had increased her pace and was almost out of sight, it wouldn’t do to lose her, just when things had begun to look so promising. Hugh took to the darkness once more, emerging from a shadowy doorway very near her now.  He could see her looking up and down the street as she stood smoking a cigarette. She put it out then looked directly at her pursuer, fear filled her eyes and muttering something under her breath, she hurried even faster.  “Fear can be an excellent motivator.” Hugh thought grinning to himself.  The chase continued to build speed until they had broken into a full run.  Thankfully, the darkness provided even faster transport.
Hugh had come to the alleyway first, and waited, lost in the sinister darkness for the arrival of the one he wanted.  It wasn’t long. A clattering noise echoed down the passage.  Soon he would have his due. Soon the unjust would be punished for their impure acts. Opal stumbled around the corner and leaned against the grimy brick wall looking like a she’d seen a ghost.  Darkness loomed up before her as all life’s blood drained from her open mouthed visage.  It was time for the Shade to do what he’d come to do.

The slasher and Opal stood together against the wall.  Quickly, Hugh passed through to a dark window alcove above them.  Then he climbed out onto a fire escape ladder.

Opal could feel the cold metal of the slasher’s knife as he drew it menacingly up her bare leg, his hot breath on her face.

“You know I love you.” he told her with a look of madness growing in his eyes. He continued louder, “Why can’t you bitches understand that!?”.  Opal began crying.

“Shhhhhhh, close your eyes.” said the killer consolingly as he put his calloused hand over her face, tipping her head slightly back.  She could feel the knife being slowly drawn toward her throat.  “It’ll all be over soon.” whispered the killer in her ear, relief edging into his voice.  Opal mouthed a silent prayer between sobs.
Without warning, the killer was thrown back.  Opal opened her eyes and saw the slasher buried under a large black shape.  She thought she could hear the growl of large cat just before an ominous, low, throttling gurgle.  The slasher’s form ceased struggling after a moment, then the ebon form rose up becoming a reaper-like figure who’s features were lost beneath its enveloping cloak’s folds and hood.

The killer lay motionless with a gaping wound at its neck from which blood now slowly bubbled, steam rising from it into the dark night above.

Opal’s eyes flitted back and forth between her would be killer and savior.  The figure reached a dark gauntleted hand toward her, handing her a broken bottle, whose shards dripped with blood.  Opal held it limply.  She could hear a distant crying sound, was it her?  The figure stood still as death another moment.

“You’re safe now.”  it rasped.

“Who, wha, huh...” Opal stammered.  The crying became wailing and grew louder.

“Go home.”  the shadowy form commanded before stepping back into the deeper dark of the alleyway.  The wailing stopped with the sound of tires screeching to a halt.  Blue and red police lights flooded the passage.

The Shade had vanished.

Opal collapsed.