THREE MONTHS AGO
6:30 P.M.
Matt Murdock's life has been defined by repeated acts of heroism and tragedy. The two concepts have been linked over and over again in his experience, making them seem like inseparable concepts.
His father had chosen integrity over material gain, resulting in his death.
Matt had saved the life of an innocent man, dooming himself to a life of darkness.
As Daredevil, he'd saved the lives of countless men and women... but it had cost him the lives of so many who were close to him: Elektra, Karen, Foggy. So many.
He perched atop the church, letting his senses reach out through the city. Two blocks away, a man was tearfully begging for one more chance from his wife. A little closer, a dog was urinating against a parked car's front tire. A bird lay dying atop a nearby rooftop, its life snuffed out by old age. Somewhere a man was screaming that he wasn't going to be disrespected anymore. Gunshots and sirens followed soon after.
This was the city he called home. A city of crime, lust and rage. But it was also a place of beauty, if one took the time to overturn the stones and look at what lay beneath.
"I'm coming for you, fat man," Matt whispered, throwing himself off the rooftop. A strong ropeline shot out from the end of his billy club, wrapping tightly around an overhanging bit of the next rooftop. He swung towards it, beginning to make the journey that take him to the offices of Wilson Fisk.
# # # # #
4:35 P.M.
Matt listened to the heartbeat of the man before him, recognizing the stance of his body and the rustle of familiar fabric. From all appearances, he was standing face-to-face with Daredevil, just outside the ruined apartment building where Dr. Faustus held his offices.
"I must be hallucinating again," he whispered, his mind turning over the harrowing events of recent weeks. He'd been implicated in the death of his friend Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, had witnessed the apparent resurrection, betrayal and then death (again) of Karen Page, had fought Bullseye (again), been publically drug through the mud on insurance fraud claims and then he'd been sentenced to undergo psychiatric counseling -- from the supposedly reformed Dr. Faustus. Now, Faustus was apparently dead and Matt's own alter ego had gained a life of its own.
"That's funny," Daredevil replied, "because I was thinking the exact same thing." The red-clad hero looked around at the paramedics and police officers, several of whom were headed in their direction. "Let's go talk this over in private, shall we?"
Matt felt himself pulled into the grip of a man who should not -- could not -- exist. A moment later they were nearly a block away, Daredevil having carried his doppelganger from rooftop to rooftop.
When they were alone, Matt moved close enough to inhale Daredevil's scent. The basic smell of his skin and hair matched his own but there was something different... some dark undercurrent that clung to him like a scent that would never fully wash clean. "I know you," he said, backing away again.
Daredevil nodded. "You should. We're the same person."
"No. We're not."
"I recognize everything about you, down to the shampoo you used this morning." Daredevil sighed, his face growing grim. "This must be a trap laid by the Kingpin. But how? You're not an actor...."
Matt moved forward, gripping Daredevil by the front of his uniform. "Stop it! How did you come back to life? How?!"
Daredevil struggled to free himself from Matt's grip. "You're afraid you're going crazy. I understand that. But I'm not a ghost. I'm--"
"You're a demon!" Matt shoved him away and Daredevil barely avoid falling on his back. "You're Hellspawn. I buried you myself*. You were dead. And now you're wearing my costume but still stinking of brimstone."
(*Way back in the classic Daredevil vol. 1 # 325!)
Daredevil hesitated, feeling a sudden rush of confusion. He saw images, hazy and indistinct, pass before his mind's eye. Dirt... so much dirt... crawling upwards until his hands were free and then blessed air filled his lungs... days of wandering before he'd finally remembered who and what he was. Or what he thought he was.
Matt 'watched' him with his radar sense, sensing the shift in his doppelganger's emotions. "You know it's true, don't you?"
"Yes," Hellspawn admitted, the confusion beginning to pass. In its place came the chanting of a woman, repeating over and over again in his head: When you meet Daredevil, kill him. Then you'll be the one, true Daredevil. Kill him! Kill him!
Matt 'saw' Hellspawn's form begin to change, metamorphosing into the more demonic look that the vile thing had worn before he'd died: huge horns grew from his head and a slashing tail grew from his back end. "We don't have to fight," Matt said, crouching. "We can solve this together. Something's different about you -- the way you've been acting, the way I can 'see' you with my radar sense. I never could do that before! You've been changed."
Hellspawn shook his head. "There's nothing to solve. Nothing to talk about. You said it yourself in the past... I'm a copy of you, right? Well, that's not good enough, Murdock! I deserve better than that! I deserve everything you've got!"
Matt sensed Hellspawn's leap, hearing it in his breathing and heart rate. He ducked down, throwing up a leg that caught his opponent in the stomach and sent him toppling over. I really don't have time for this, Matt thought to himself. I have to find out what's going on with Faustus... try to stop the Kingpin from destroying what's left of my life and--
Hellspawn slammed a fist into Matt's cheek, sending blood spraying from the hero's mouth. "You're distracted," Hellspawn taunted. "And it's going to get you killed!"
"Fine," Matt said, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand. "If you want to dance... then let's do it."
# # # # #
Richard Fisk, the Rose, stood in the shadows, watching his father. Wilson Fisk had been in a wheelchair following a series of terrible wounds, which had prompted Richard's mother, Vanessa, to send him forth in hopes of convincing his father to retire. The Kingpin, of course, had refused. Instead, Richard found himself once more in the mask of the Rose, chief of his father's lieutenants.
Or so he wanted his father to believe.
The Rose waited for his father to wheel his way out of the room. The Kingpin hated being helpless, hated requiring the aid of others while he was recovering. It was taking a terrible toll on the man and much of his prodigious weight had begun to come off, making him look sickly.
The Rose moved over to his father's desk, picking the lock on the bottom drawer. He took out a folder marked "Murdock" and thumbed through it. So much information was there, some of it inappropriate for the eyes of the media. The Rose removed any references to Daredevil's dual identity but left in all the information that would clear Murdock's name of his recent troubles.
"You've never given me the respect I deserve, father," the Rose said, placing the folder inside his jacket's pocket. "It's time for you to step down and return to mother... whether you like it or not."
# # # # #
4:40 P.M.
Ben Urich sat staring at the computer screen, realizing that he had exactly 20 minutes to hit his deadline and he had nothing to go on. Word had just come in that there'd been some sort of explosion at a brownstone downtown but some young turk had already grabbed the scoop. "It's just you and me, pal," he said to the keyboard, staring at in hopes that a story would magically appear.
A manila envelope landed square on top the keyboard, making him jump. "What the hell--?"
Marcy, a cute young redhead with freckles to die for, grinned at him. "Some kid just dropped that off. Said it had to be given straight to you, ASAP. He was really mysterious. I half expected the words "Top Secret" to be stamped across the envelope."
Ben picked it up, noticing that there was no writing on the outside. He noticed Marcy watching him with interest and shooed her away. "Don't you have to go do some Pilates or something?" he asked.
Marcy shook her head in amusement, flipping him off. When she'd left him alone, he tore open the envelope and pulled out the documents and photographs. At first, he wasn't sure what he was looking at... but then it became obvious. This was evidence that someone had framed Matt Murdock for a whole host of crimes.
And that someone was named Wilson Fisk.
"Bingo," Ben said, looking up at the computer screen. "Let's get it on."
# # # # #
4:45 P.M.
Matt was beginning to feel an ache in his calves and upper arms. Hellspawn and he were almost perfectly matched, each able to predict the movements of the other. The only difference seemed to be that the demon was less susceptible to fatigue.
"Stop this," Matt wheezed, staying just out of Hellspawn's range. "You were calm... willing to talk... until you realized who you were. I don't think you really want to do this."
Hellspawn hesitated, the woman's voice continuing to echo in his head. "She wants me to kill you," he said, reaching up with both hands to hold his head.
"Who?"
"Calypso. She brought me back to life*."
(*Back in our 11th issue)
Matt stood up straight, forcing his heart rate to slow. "You have my powers. You know I'm not lying. Let's stop this and I'll try to help you. We'll get rid of Calypso's control over you."
"And then what?" Hellspawn hissed. "You and me will get an apartment together? Take turns living as Matt Murdock and as Daredevil?"
Matt took a deep breath and smiled softly. "You know, that's not the craziest idea I've ever heard. Look, I've seen way too much death lately. Let's try to avoid it this time."
"I'm a demon," Hellspawn wailed, falling to his knees. He hid his face in his hands, his demonic form fading away to reveal the face and body of Matt Murdock.
"You've been helping people, haven't you? Since your resurrection?"
"I've tried...."
Matt knelt beside him, putting his hands on his doppelganger's shoulders. "Then that shows you can grow. You can evolve."
The two Matt Murdocks embraced for a moment. It was Hellspawn who said, "So what now?"
"Now we go and check in on the man who's behind that building's explosion. The man who was blackmailing Faustus and who's ruined my life."
Hellspawn smiled in return. "How many times are we going to do this? Let our lives get ruined by the Kingpin and then beat him back down... then he comes back again?"
"We won't kill him," Matt answered, noticing that Hellspawn was once again talking like he was the real Matt Murdock. "But we have to make sure that he--"
A buzzing from Matt's pocket made both men pause. He took out his cell phone and said "Hello?"
Activated by his voice, the specially made phone with the Braille keys came to life. "Matt? This is Ben. Got a sec?"
Matt hesitated, looking across as firemen searched through the ruins for survivors. Faustus might be in there, he realized.
"Take your call," Hellspawn said, adjusting his Daredevil mask. "I'll help down there."
Nodding, Matt returned his attention to the phone. "What do you need, Ben?"
"Just wanted to let you know: the Kingpin's going down. Hard."
# # # # #
"You damned fool!" the Owl exploded, standing up so quickly that the braces supporting his legs almost failed, sending him toppling over. He gripped the edge of his desk, hobbling around to face the liver-spotted villain known as the Vulture. "You fail in your mission and now you tell me that you've alerted Daredevil to our plans?"
"It was a slip of the tongue," Adrian Toomes muttered. "He knows nothing."
"We have to lie low," the Owl said, ignoring him. "Fade into the background a bit. Let him grow concerned with the activities of the Kingpin and others... then I'll strike! I should have removed him from the playing field before I ever started my campaign against Fisk...."
"I don't have the patience for this," the Vulture said. "How long are you planning on hiding in the shadows? I'm no spring chicken, you know."
"One only has to look at you to realize that," the Owl replied. He looked at the Vulture and forced a smile on his face. He returned to his desk and picked up an envelope which he handed to the Vulture. "I was going to give you this upon your return. My way of thanking you."
The Vulture peered inside, letting out a gasp of surprise when saw several $100 bills within. "This is a nice surprise," he grinned, taking out the money to count it.
"You've done excellent work -- until today, anyway." The Owl waved a hand. "Go take a vacation. Enjoy yourself. I'll call you when we're ready to launch another strike."
The Vulture nodded. "Sorry for doubting you," he said. "You're a good egg."
The Owl said nothing but his eyebrows moved upwards slowly as the Vulture suddenly began to shudder all over. The aged villain dropped the money to the floor, spittle forming on his lips. He staggered back, staring at the Owl in sudden horror. "Oh, dear me," the Owl chuckled. "Did I accidentally give you the money that was coated with the toxin? Tut, tut. How do the kids say it? My bad?"
"You... bastard....."
The Owl watched as the Vulture fell to the floor, still twitching. "You're not going to die, you miserable old wretch. But you are going back to jail. Next time, I'll get help that doesn't qualify for social security."
The Vulture's last sight before his vision clouded over was that of the Owl opening up a window, preparing to fly away into the night.
# # # # #
6:45 P.M.
Wilson Fisk lifted the barbell for the one hundred and tenth time with his right arm. Though some might have termed him 'fat,' the truth was this bulk was composed of as much muscle as fatty tissue. He was a trained Sumo, able to use his weight to great advantage in combat. Of course, his recent injuries had put all those things in great doubt.
The Kingpin was in his gym and he was supposed to be alone, having sent everyone -- even his most trusted bodyguards -- away for the time being. An informant at the Daily Bugle had called him not more than fifteen minutes ago, letting him that bad things were coming his way.
He wasn't fearful of public disgrace. It had happened before and he had recovered his holdings and standing in the community. He could do it again, if necessary.
"How does it feel," a voice said from behind him. "To know that it's all going to crash down around your ears? Oh wait... I know exactly how it feels. You've done it to me often enough."
"Murdock," Fisk said, not bothering to turn around. "I wonder when you will realize you're finally, truly beaten?"
"I've won this time. You're going down. The charges against me are begin dropped." Matt moved around to stand in front of Fisk. He had donned his Daredevil costume, having convinced Hellspawn that the demon should try a different look for himself.
Fisk studied him calmly. "I know your identity and I will not hesitate to use it."
"That's been a problem for quite awhile," Matt admitted. He smiled when he felt Fisk's heart rate speed up. The Kingpin was beginning to sense that something was wrong... that Daredevil had something planned. "But I think we're going to do something about that. You see, earlier today I ran into a doppelganger of myself. A mystic construct given life called Hellspawn. He was resurrected by an old enemy of mine, Calypso. I assume that she -- like you and all the other scum who've come to dominate my life -- wanted revenge." Daredevil 'saw' the Kingpin preparing to throw the barbell at his head. The hero hurled his own billy club at his old enemy, striking the Kingpin in the hand. The bar ball fell with a loud clatter to the floor.
Fisk refused to acknowledge his damaged fingers. "If you have something to say, Mr. Murdock... perhaps you should go ahead and do so."
A second figure stepped into view, this one wearing the armored costume that Daredevil had used years ago. The Kingpin studied him for a moment, noting that the two men could have passed for twins. "Hellspawn, I take it?"
The armored man nodded. He had chosen this costume because it was the one Matt had worn during Hellspawn's 'death.' "I was a living fractal, Fat Man," Hellspawn said. "Given human form through magic. I'm not a sorcerer... but I do have some abilities to influence the human mind. I usually instill fear -- a play on Daredevil's Man Without Fear motif."
"Fascinating," the Kingpin said dryly. "I assume there's a point to all this?"
Hellspawn grabbed hold of Fisk's head. When the Kingpin started to struggle, Daredevil wrapped him up tight with a reinforced wire he'd held in his glove. Fisk found himself gazing spellbound into Hellspawn's glowing eyes, listening to every word as if his life depended on it. "Wilson Fisk... you are going to feel overwhelming fear whenever you try to remember what Daredevil's true identity is. You're going to want to avoid thinking about it. You can't bear the thought of it. Let it slip into the slimy recesses of your brain and leave it there. Do you understand?"
"....Yes....."
Daredevil put a hand on Hellspawn's shoulder. "Let's go. The police are outside."
"Is this enough?" Hellspawn remained standing there, itching to kill.
"Let the law handle him. It's what Foggy would have wanted."
# # # # #
TODAY
Matt smiled as his fingers traced across the newspaper column, his hypersensitive touch "reading" the page for him. "We're in the papers again," he said to the man seated across from him.
"What does it say?" the man asked, looking out the window of the law office he shared with Matt. He'd gotten forged legal credentials but didn't feel guilty about it. He'd done many more awful things than lie about his past... and he was a damned good lawyer.
Matt read aloud: "Handsome twins Matt and Mike Murdock were sighted at the Manhattan Children's Fund Charity Ball last evening. Mike was a dancing sensation, flirting up every single girl in the joint while his blind, quiet brother urged the wealthy attendees to give tot he charity."
Mike smiled. The last few months had been incredible, giving him a chance to live the way he'd always wanted. Matt had created the devil-may-care identity of "Mike Murdock" years ago to protect his identity and now Mike was finally a living, breathing entity. "Life's been good lately, Matt."
"What do you mean?"
"With our luck, something bad's bound to happen. Any day."
Matt thought about it and then nodded. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, brother o' mine."
The phone on the desk rang and both men shared a glance of amusement. Matt picked it up first. "Yes, Mary?" he asked, knowing it was their secretary in the outer office.
"Sir, there's a woman on the phone, asking for you. She sounds rather insistent."
"A damsel in distress," Mike teased.
Matt pressed the flashing button his phone, feeling the heat coming from it. "This is Matt Murdock. Can I help you?"
"Matt, please don't hang up. It's me."
Matt felt a chill go down his spine. Not again... "Karen?"
TO BE CONTINUED
NEXT ISSUE: "The Devil's Playground" begins! Three months have passed and Daredevil is once more serving as the protector of Hell's Kitchen. But he's also in San Francisco, in search of the woman who pretended to be Karen Page. An exciting new era begins!
Author's Notes
Welcome to the first issue of my stint on Daredevil! I loved the two previous runs that this title has had and will try my best to keep up the high quality that's been established. Originally, I'd planned to dump Hellspawn but after an email conversation with Jason Eberly, I learned that our outgoing writer really didn't want the demon to revert to his evil ways as he felt that would be too cliché. So I hit upon the current solution... which certainly makes for some unusual possibilities, eh? We'll see how long it lasts.
Next issue will be my first 'real' attempt at handling the character as I consider this one more of an extension of the previous writer's work. I tried to wrap up his plots as well as possible before moving on to my own take on Daredevil next month. What can you expect? Well, here's a few teasers:
San Francisco, baby!
A new Death-Stalker
The Hand
A confrontation with Calypso
Karen Page (aka the Corpse)
A confrontation with Copycat (aka the Fake Karen)
Snakeroot
A new love interest -- and she won't get killed by Bullseye any time soon! I promise!
What you won't see: a slavish devotion to the Miller era of the character. I love that era. It was some of the greatest stories ever told in the comics medium. But the past 20 years' worth of Daredevil stories have been basically rehashing what Frank Miller did. I plan to homage to that stuff while also doing something new. Trust me, by the time we reach issue 25, you'll see what I mean.
Keep in touch,
Barry Reese
6:30 P.M.
Matt Murdock's life has been defined by repeated acts of heroism and tragedy. The two concepts have been linked over and over again in his experience, making them seem like inseparable concepts.
His father had chosen integrity over material gain, resulting in his death.
Matt had saved the life of an innocent man, dooming himself to a life of darkness.
As Daredevil, he'd saved the lives of countless men and women... but it had cost him the lives of so many who were close to him: Elektra, Karen, Foggy. So many.
He perched atop the church, letting his senses reach out through the city. Two blocks away, a man was tearfully begging for one more chance from his wife. A little closer, a dog was urinating against a parked car's front tire. A bird lay dying atop a nearby rooftop, its life snuffed out by old age. Somewhere a man was screaming that he wasn't going to be disrespected anymore. Gunshots and sirens followed soon after.
This was the city he called home. A city of crime, lust and rage. But it was also a place of beauty, if one took the time to overturn the stones and look at what lay beneath.
"I'm coming for you, fat man," Matt whispered, throwing himself off the rooftop. A strong ropeline shot out from the end of his billy club, wrapping tightly around an overhanging bit of the next rooftop. He swung towards it, beginning to make the journey that take him to the offices of Wilson Fisk.
# # # # #
4:35 P.M.
Matt listened to the heartbeat of the man before him, recognizing the stance of his body and the rustle of familiar fabric. From all appearances, he was standing face-to-face with Daredevil, just outside the ruined apartment building where Dr. Faustus held his offices.
"I must be hallucinating again," he whispered, his mind turning over the harrowing events of recent weeks. He'd been implicated in the death of his friend Franklin "Foggy" Nelson, had witnessed the apparent resurrection, betrayal and then death (again) of Karen Page, had fought Bullseye (again), been publically drug through the mud on insurance fraud claims and then he'd been sentenced to undergo psychiatric counseling -- from the supposedly reformed Dr. Faustus. Now, Faustus was apparently dead and Matt's own alter ego had gained a life of its own.
"That's funny," Daredevil replied, "because I was thinking the exact same thing." The red-clad hero looked around at the paramedics and police officers, several of whom were headed in their direction. "Let's go talk this over in private, shall we?"
Matt felt himself pulled into the grip of a man who should not -- could not -- exist. A moment later they were nearly a block away, Daredevil having carried his doppelganger from rooftop to rooftop.
When they were alone, Matt moved close enough to inhale Daredevil's scent. The basic smell of his skin and hair matched his own but there was something different... some dark undercurrent that clung to him like a scent that would never fully wash clean. "I know you," he said, backing away again.
Daredevil nodded. "You should. We're the same person."
"No. We're not."
"I recognize everything about you, down to the shampoo you used this morning." Daredevil sighed, his face growing grim. "This must be a trap laid by the Kingpin. But how? You're not an actor...."
Matt moved forward, gripping Daredevil by the front of his uniform. "Stop it! How did you come back to life? How?!"
Daredevil struggled to free himself from Matt's grip. "You're afraid you're going crazy. I understand that. But I'm not a ghost. I'm--"
"You're a demon!" Matt shoved him away and Daredevil barely avoid falling on his back. "You're Hellspawn. I buried you myself*. You were dead. And now you're wearing my costume but still stinking of brimstone."
(*Way back in the classic Daredevil vol. 1 # 325!)
Daredevil hesitated, feeling a sudden rush of confusion. He saw images, hazy and indistinct, pass before his mind's eye. Dirt... so much dirt... crawling upwards until his hands were free and then blessed air filled his lungs... days of wandering before he'd finally remembered who and what he was. Or what he thought he was.
Matt 'watched' him with his radar sense, sensing the shift in his doppelganger's emotions. "You know it's true, don't you?"
"Yes," Hellspawn admitted, the confusion beginning to pass. In its place came the chanting of a woman, repeating over and over again in his head: When you meet Daredevil, kill him. Then you'll be the one, true Daredevil. Kill him! Kill him!
Matt 'saw' Hellspawn's form begin to change, metamorphosing into the more demonic look that the vile thing had worn before he'd died: huge horns grew from his head and a slashing tail grew from his back end. "We don't have to fight," Matt said, crouching. "We can solve this together. Something's different about you -- the way you've been acting, the way I can 'see' you with my radar sense. I never could do that before! You've been changed."
Hellspawn shook his head. "There's nothing to solve. Nothing to talk about. You said it yourself in the past... I'm a copy of you, right? Well, that's not good enough, Murdock! I deserve better than that! I deserve everything you've got!"
Matt sensed Hellspawn's leap, hearing it in his breathing and heart rate. He ducked down, throwing up a leg that caught his opponent in the stomach and sent him toppling over. I really don't have time for this, Matt thought to himself. I have to find out what's going on with Faustus... try to stop the Kingpin from destroying what's left of my life and--
Hellspawn slammed a fist into Matt's cheek, sending blood spraying from the hero's mouth. "You're distracted," Hellspawn taunted. "And it's going to get you killed!"
"Fine," Matt said, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand. "If you want to dance... then let's do it."
# # # # #
Richard Fisk, the Rose, stood in the shadows, watching his father. Wilson Fisk had been in a wheelchair following a series of terrible wounds, which had prompted Richard's mother, Vanessa, to send him forth in hopes of convincing his father to retire. The Kingpin, of course, had refused. Instead, Richard found himself once more in the mask of the Rose, chief of his father's lieutenants.
Or so he wanted his father to believe.
The Rose waited for his father to wheel his way out of the room. The Kingpin hated being helpless, hated requiring the aid of others while he was recovering. It was taking a terrible toll on the man and much of his prodigious weight had begun to come off, making him look sickly.
The Rose moved over to his father's desk, picking the lock on the bottom drawer. He took out a folder marked "Murdock" and thumbed through it. So much information was there, some of it inappropriate for the eyes of the media. The Rose removed any references to Daredevil's dual identity but left in all the information that would clear Murdock's name of his recent troubles.
"You've never given me the respect I deserve, father," the Rose said, placing the folder inside his jacket's pocket. "It's time for you to step down and return to mother... whether you like it or not."
# # # # #
4:40 P.M.
Ben Urich sat staring at the computer screen, realizing that he had exactly 20 minutes to hit his deadline and he had nothing to go on. Word had just come in that there'd been some sort of explosion at a brownstone downtown but some young turk had already grabbed the scoop. "It's just you and me, pal," he said to the keyboard, staring at in hopes that a story would magically appear.
A manila envelope landed square on top the keyboard, making him jump. "What the hell--?"
Marcy, a cute young redhead with freckles to die for, grinned at him. "Some kid just dropped that off. Said it had to be given straight to you, ASAP. He was really mysterious. I half expected the words "Top Secret" to be stamped across the envelope."
Ben picked it up, noticing that there was no writing on the outside. He noticed Marcy watching him with interest and shooed her away. "Don't you have to go do some Pilates or something?" he asked.
Marcy shook her head in amusement, flipping him off. When she'd left him alone, he tore open the envelope and pulled out the documents and photographs. At first, he wasn't sure what he was looking at... but then it became obvious. This was evidence that someone had framed Matt Murdock for a whole host of crimes.
And that someone was named Wilson Fisk.
"Bingo," Ben said, looking up at the computer screen. "Let's get it on."
# # # # #
4:45 P.M.
Matt was beginning to feel an ache in his calves and upper arms. Hellspawn and he were almost perfectly matched, each able to predict the movements of the other. The only difference seemed to be that the demon was less susceptible to fatigue.
"Stop this," Matt wheezed, staying just out of Hellspawn's range. "You were calm... willing to talk... until you realized who you were. I don't think you really want to do this."
Hellspawn hesitated, the woman's voice continuing to echo in his head. "She wants me to kill you," he said, reaching up with both hands to hold his head.
"Who?"
"Calypso. She brought me back to life*."
(*Back in our 11th issue)
Matt stood up straight, forcing his heart rate to slow. "You have my powers. You know I'm not lying. Let's stop this and I'll try to help you. We'll get rid of Calypso's control over you."
"And then what?" Hellspawn hissed. "You and me will get an apartment together? Take turns living as Matt Murdock and as Daredevil?"
Matt took a deep breath and smiled softly. "You know, that's not the craziest idea I've ever heard. Look, I've seen way too much death lately. Let's try to avoid it this time."
"I'm a demon," Hellspawn wailed, falling to his knees. He hid his face in his hands, his demonic form fading away to reveal the face and body of Matt Murdock.
"You've been helping people, haven't you? Since your resurrection?"
"I've tried...."
Matt knelt beside him, putting his hands on his doppelganger's shoulders. "Then that shows you can grow. You can evolve."
The two Matt Murdocks embraced for a moment. It was Hellspawn who said, "So what now?"
"Now we go and check in on the man who's behind that building's explosion. The man who was blackmailing Faustus and who's ruined my life."
Hellspawn smiled in return. "How many times are we going to do this? Let our lives get ruined by the Kingpin and then beat him back down... then he comes back again?"
"We won't kill him," Matt answered, noticing that Hellspawn was once again talking like he was the real Matt Murdock. "But we have to make sure that he--"
A buzzing from Matt's pocket made both men pause. He took out his cell phone and said "Hello?"
Activated by his voice, the specially made phone with the Braille keys came to life. "Matt? This is Ben. Got a sec?"
Matt hesitated, looking across as firemen searched through the ruins for survivors. Faustus might be in there, he realized.
"Take your call," Hellspawn said, adjusting his Daredevil mask. "I'll help down there."
Nodding, Matt returned his attention to the phone. "What do you need, Ben?"
"Just wanted to let you know: the Kingpin's going down. Hard."
# # # # #
"You damned fool!" the Owl exploded, standing up so quickly that the braces supporting his legs almost failed, sending him toppling over. He gripped the edge of his desk, hobbling around to face the liver-spotted villain known as the Vulture. "You fail in your mission and now you tell me that you've alerted Daredevil to our plans?"
"It was a slip of the tongue," Adrian Toomes muttered. "He knows nothing."
"We have to lie low," the Owl said, ignoring him. "Fade into the background a bit. Let him grow concerned with the activities of the Kingpin and others... then I'll strike! I should have removed him from the playing field before I ever started my campaign against Fisk...."
"I don't have the patience for this," the Vulture said. "How long are you planning on hiding in the shadows? I'm no spring chicken, you know."
"One only has to look at you to realize that," the Owl replied. He looked at the Vulture and forced a smile on his face. He returned to his desk and picked up an envelope which he handed to the Vulture. "I was going to give you this upon your return. My way of thanking you."
The Vulture peered inside, letting out a gasp of surprise when saw several $100 bills within. "This is a nice surprise," he grinned, taking out the money to count it.
"You've done excellent work -- until today, anyway." The Owl waved a hand. "Go take a vacation. Enjoy yourself. I'll call you when we're ready to launch another strike."
The Vulture nodded. "Sorry for doubting you," he said. "You're a good egg."
The Owl said nothing but his eyebrows moved upwards slowly as the Vulture suddenly began to shudder all over. The aged villain dropped the money to the floor, spittle forming on his lips. He staggered back, staring at the Owl in sudden horror. "Oh, dear me," the Owl chuckled. "Did I accidentally give you the money that was coated with the toxin? Tut, tut. How do the kids say it? My bad?"
"You... bastard....."
The Owl watched as the Vulture fell to the floor, still twitching. "You're not going to die, you miserable old wretch. But you are going back to jail. Next time, I'll get help that doesn't qualify for social security."
The Vulture's last sight before his vision clouded over was that of the Owl opening up a window, preparing to fly away into the night.
# # # # #
6:45 P.M.
Wilson Fisk lifted the barbell for the one hundred and tenth time with his right arm. Though some might have termed him 'fat,' the truth was this bulk was composed of as much muscle as fatty tissue. He was a trained Sumo, able to use his weight to great advantage in combat. Of course, his recent injuries had put all those things in great doubt.
The Kingpin was in his gym and he was supposed to be alone, having sent everyone -- even his most trusted bodyguards -- away for the time being. An informant at the Daily Bugle had called him not more than fifteen minutes ago, letting him that bad things were coming his way.
He wasn't fearful of public disgrace. It had happened before and he had recovered his holdings and standing in the community. He could do it again, if necessary.
"How does it feel," a voice said from behind him. "To know that it's all going to crash down around your ears? Oh wait... I know exactly how it feels. You've done it to me often enough."
"Murdock," Fisk said, not bothering to turn around. "I wonder when you will realize you're finally, truly beaten?"
"I've won this time. You're going down. The charges against me are begin dropped." Matt moved around to stand in front of Fisk. He had donned his Daredevil costume, having convinced Hellspawn that the demon should try a different look for himself.
Fisk studied him calmly. "I know your identity and I will not hesitate to use it."
"That's been a problem for quite awhile," Matt admitted. He smiled when he felt Fisk's heart rate speed up. The Kingpin was beginning to sense that something was wrong... that Daredevil had something planned. "But I think we're going to do something about that. You see, earlier today I ran into a doppelganger of myself. A mystic construct given life called Hellspawn. He was resurrected by an old enemy of mine, Calypso. I assume that she -- like you and all the other scum who've come to dominate my life -- wanted revenge." Daredevil 'saw' the Kingpin preparing to throw the barbell at his head. The hero hurled his own billy club at his old enemy, striking the Kingpin in the hand. The bar ball fell with a loud clatter to the floor.
Fisk refused to acknowledge his damaged fingers. "If you have something to say, Mr. Murdock... perhaps you should go ahead and do so."
A second figure stepped into view, this one wearing the armored costume that Daredevil had used years ago. The Kingpin studied him for a moment, noting that the two men could have passed for twins. "Hellspawn, I take it?"
The armored man nodded. He had chosen this costume because it was the one Matt had worn during Hellspawn's 'death.' "I was a living fractal, Fat Man," Hellspawn said. "Given human form through magic. I'm not a sorcerer... but I do have some abilities to influence the human mind. I usually instill fear -- a play on Daredevil's Man Without Fear motif."
"Fascinating," the Kingpin said dryly. "I assume there's a point to all this?"
Hellspawn grabbed hold of Fisk's head. When the Kingpin started to struggle, Daredevil wrapped him up tight with a reinforced wire he'd held in his glove. Fisk found himself gazing spellbound into Hellspawn's glowing eyes, listening to every word as if his life depended on it. "Wilson Fisk... you are going to feel overwhelming fear whenever you try to remember what Daredevil's true identity is. You're going to want to avoid thinking about it. You can't bear the thought of it. Let it slip into the slimy recesses of your brain and leave it there. Do you understand?"
"....Yes....."
Daredevil put a hand on Hellspawn's shoulder. "Let's go. The police are outside."
"Is this enough?" Hellspawn remained standing there, itching to kill.
"Let the law handle him. It's what Foggy would have wanted."
# # # # #
TODAY
Matt smiled as his fingers traced across the newspaper column, his hypersensitive touch "reading" the page for him. "We're in the papers again," he said to the man seated across from him.
"What does it say?" the man asked, looking out the window of the law office he shared with Matt. He'd gotten forged legal credentials but didn't feel guilty about it. He'd done many more awful things than lie about his past... and he was a damned good lawyer.
Matt read aloud: "Handsome twins Matt and Mike Murdock were sighted at the Manhattan Children's Fund Charity Ball last evening. Mike was a dancing sensation, flirting up every single girl in the joint while his blind, quiet brother urged the wealthy attendees to give tot he charity."
Mike smiled. The last few months had been incredible, giving him a chance to live the way he'd always wanted. Matt had created the devil-may-care identity of "Mike Murdock" years ago to protect his identity and now Mike was finally a living, breathing entity. "Life's been good lately, Matt."
"What do you mean?"
"With our luck, something bad's bound to happen. Any day."
Matt thought about it and then nodded. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, brother o' mine."
The phone on the desk rang and both men shared a glance of amusement. Matt picked it up first. "Yes, Mary?" he asked, knowing it was their secretary in the outer office.
"Sir, there's a woman on the phone, asking for you. She sounds rather insistent."
"A damsel in distress," Mike teased.
Matt pressed the flashing button his phone, feeling the heat coming from it. "This is Matt Murdock. Can I help you?"
"Matt, please don't hang up. It's me."
Matt felt a chill go down his spine. Not again... "Karen?"
TO BE CONTINUED
NEXT ISSUE: "The Devil's Playground" begins! Three months have passed and Daredevil is once more serving as the protector of Hell's Kitchen. But he's also in San Francisco, in search of the woman who pretended to be Karen Page. An exciting new era begins!
Author's Notes
Welcome to the first issue of my stint on Daredevil! I loved the two previous runs that this title has had and will try my best to keep up the high quality that's been established. Originally, I'd planned to dump Hellspawn but after an email conversation with Jason Eberly, I learned that our outgoing writer really didn't want the demon to revert to his evil ways as he felt that would be too cliché. So I hit upon the current solution... which certainly makes for some unusual possibilities, eh? We'll see how long it lasts.
Next issue will be my first 'real' attempt at handling the character as I consider this one more of an extension of the previous writer's work. I tried to wrap up his plots as well as possible before moving on to my own take on Daredevil next month. What can you expect? Well, here's a few teasers:
San Francisco, baby!
A new Death-Stalker
The Hand
A confrontation with Calypso
Karen Page (aka the Corpse)
A confrontation with Copycat (aka the Fake Karen)
Snakeroot
A new love interest -- and she won't get killed by Bullseye any time soon! I promise!
What you won't see: a slavish devotion to the Miller era of the character. I love that era. It was some of the greatest stories ever told in the comics medium. But the past 20 years' worth of Daredevil stories have been basically rehashing what Frank Miller did. I plan to homage to that stuff while also doing something new. Trust me, by the time we reach issue 25, you'll see what I mean.
Keep in touch,
Barry Reese