The Spectre | Teen Ink

The Spectre

February 21, 2023
By LN2910 SILVER, Wilmington, Delaware
LN2910 SILVER, Wilmington, Delaware
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Krystal, that’s what the city was called. During the day, gigantic –  metropolitan, and modern,  a marvel to behold. But by nightfall, the city became a playground for the criminal underworld. The city was scared, afraid of what was around it, of the evil the city produced. Parents pulled their children off the street when the lights came on and told them not to go out when they heard the fireworks. Jason Hunter had seen the evil these kinds of cities produce, and had interacted with monsters who were hiding in plain sight. Jason had decided to start fighting back against the stream of crime and cruelty which infested the city he called home. 

Jason Hunter had lived in this city since he was a boy. A Krystal native, one could say. He had grown up without a mother, told that she had died during childbirth. Jason’s father never brought her up, and seemed to resent him because of this. Due to this Jason was mostly alone. Ever since he was nine years old, he had these dreams. Dreams where he could see people dying in his city – people he had never met. He started to learn that these were real people, and he was seeing the actual actions of these murderers before they happened. He told his father about these dreams, and his father told him to never tell anyone because they would “call him crazy and tell stories about him.” Jason lived through his childhood having to deal with these dreams and seeing the deaths of people in his city. Jason started learning how to fight, not knowing what he would do with this training, but he wanted to be able to do something. 

During his time at school, he was always popular with students and teachers due to his amazing ability to be able to perform magic and sleight-of-hand tricks. He graduated from high school and went to a community college while trying to work on a career as a stage magician. Shortly after he started his schooling, he met Melissa Wilson, a senior in high school. Melissa came from a rich family, but she worked very hard to make her own money for herself. They quickly became good friends and then fell in love. Melissa graduated from high school and left for college in England, but the two remained together. Melissa always supported Jason’s dream career to become a stage magician. Her parents, however, did not. They thought Jason was crazy and that he had no prospects of “playing with magic tricks.” Melissa didn’t listen to them, and she continued to date Jason while he kept trying to finally get his name out there. He was performing shows and people liked his act and the jokes he made with the audience, but he never made headlines or lists of “Top Ten Magic Shows” or other internet lists that now made people famous. 

The day came when Jason finally hit it big. During a show, the key he placed in his back pocket for a trick wasn’t there, and he had to pop his shoulder out to avoid drowning. This stunt created such hype for his shows that Jason became semi-famous in the town of Krystal and its surrounding area. He never told Melissa about his near miss. 

People started hiring him for Bachelor's and Bachelorette parties along with birthdays and weddings. He also performed at theaters and other events, such as amusement parks and festivals. Jason eventually made enough money to purchase a penthouse in the middle of the city, and during the summer of Melissa’s third year of college, Jason asked her to marry him. She said yes, and the wedding was set for after she graduated from college. Jason loved Melissa with all of his heart and had no problem waiting another year to marry her, although he got very lonely without her. Jason no longer had many friends. He started his vigilante career right after he proposed to Melissa. Jason went to sleep that night and dreamed of another criminal – this one was in the middle of kidnapping a girl who looked ragged and in her 20s. The house was dingy and unclean. The girl was struggling and the man was speaking with a heavy Russian accent, telling her to stop struggling and to shut up. Eventually, he struck her across the face and knocked her unconscious. Jason could hear the man’s thoughts; he was headed to the docks.

Jason woke up in a cold sweat. He knew what he had to do. He changed into his white stage tuxedo and put on his black stage mask. Both of these items were made of fire-proof material. He put on a scarf over the mask. Grabbing a metal baton and several smoke bombs, he packed them into his pockets and belt. He opened his window, and the balcony faced the roof of a slightly smaller building. It was about a 50-foot drop to the street if he missed it, but the building was only ten feet below the balcony. He stepped up to the edge and lept off. 

“Tuck and roll, tuck and roll, tuck and roll!” Jason yelled to himself as he descended. 

Jason did just that, tucking in and rolling off of his arm when he hit the cement roof of the building. He felt a sudden and sharp pain in his arm but he continued to run, most of the buildings were level from this point until the docks. Jason hopped between roofs and over alleyways. When he made his way to the docks, he hopped down the fire escape of the building he was on before he snuck into the warehouse area. He used the containers to his advantage, hiding behind them and using them as high ground. He made his way to Warehouse B. He saw six men in front of a container. They each held two women by the wrists. Most of the women were not fighting back; they had given up. The one he had seen in his dream was struggling to no avail. The men were big, each about 6’3” feet tall. Jason was only 5’9”, but he could use that to his advantage. Jason made his way to the top of a container near the men and could hear them speaking.

“We’re making fifteen hundred dollars a head for you,” the one who appeared to be leading the others said, “so if you’re quiet and cooperative, I’ll let you have a meal.” He held up a half-eaten bag of chips and a water bottle. “But if you aren’t, you get this,” and he held up a stun gun and activated it. The blue light lit up the terrified faces of the women, and they yelped as he shocked one of them. 

Jason was appalled by the level of cruelty these men used against innocent people, but he wouldn’t let them do anything more to these women.

“Go ahead, scream! No one can hear anything down here,” the leader said.

Jason jumped to the ground landing behind the man.

“I can,” he growled, grabbing the leader’s head and slamming it hard into the door of the container. The door slammed shut. The women inside screamed in terror as they were immediately flung into darkness. The man slumped to the ground, unconscious. The five other men looked shocked; the last thing they were expecting was a guy playing superhero interrupting them. Jason stood there, taking advantage of the shock to study the five men. 

He heard the click of a hammer on the gun.  With an unexpected quickness, he grabbed the metal baton in his belt and hurled it at the man with the gun. It hit him in the head, and he fell to the ground. The metal baton ricocheted off of his head and came back to Jason.

Two of the remaining four grabbed his arms and rushed him into the container doors, shutting them. The women inside screamed in terror. Jason struggled against the two men but they wouldn’t budge. Jason looked ahead and gasped as he saw one of the men level his pistol right at Jason’s head.

“Hold him still!” the man said.

The man pulled the trigger twice, and Jason yelped as he ducked his head, dodging the bullets shot at him. Jason felt the grip on his left arm loosen, probably due to the surprise of the gunshots. Jason wrenched his arm free and punched the man square across the jaw using his right leg to kick in his knee, and it snapped as he fell backward. Jason lept on the other man making him fall backward before kicking him across the face as he stood up. The man with the gun fired twice as Jason ran toward him. Jason ducked and weaved, grabbing his metal baton out of his belt and hurling it at the man with the gun. It cracked him on the head. The man fell backward slamming into the ground and dropping his gun. Jason stepped on the man’s hand as he reached for the gun next to him. 

“Don’t try it!” Jason growled. “Who ordered you to kidnap these women?”

“I can’t tell you, he’ll kill me,” the Russian man groaned.

“What makes you think I won’t?” Jason snarled, despite having no intention of killing the sniveling coward since he needed an edge in these negotiations.

Jason picked the man up off the ground and held him close to his face.

“Talk,” Jason whispered.

“OK, OK, it was the heads of the Russian mob! Happy?” the Russian man sobbed.

“Names!” Jason growled.

“I only know of one, Nicolai,” the Russian man sobbed.

“What’s the last name?” Jason said, calmer than before.

“I don’t know, only his lieutenants can tell you that, and I don’t think that you’ll get anything out of them. Now will you let me go?” the Russian man said. 

“Sure,” Jason said, tossing him into one of the shipping containers.

Jason walked over to the container holding the kidnapped women, he opened the door, and inside were fourteen women, each of them matching the faces of the missing person posters Jason had seen all around the city. They quivered in fear when they saw him.

“Don’t be scared; I’m here to help you. I’m going to take you back to your families,” Jason said calmly, reaching a hand towards them. 

The fourteen women slowly got up and made their way out of the dark container and onto the docks. Jason took one of the phones out of the Russian man’s pocket and dialed a number: The number of Richard Malone. Richard Malone was the father of Melissa’s sister’s best friend who just so happened to be a police detective. 

“Hello,” the tired voice said.

“Is this Officer Richard Malone?” Jason asked, making his voice deeper to mask his true identity.

“Yes, may I ask why you are calling?” Richard groaned.

“I have found the fourteen missing women you have been searching for,” Jason said, almost as if he was saying that he had picked up some new milk, or that they were out of bacon. 

“WHAT?!” Richard yelled, “All fourteen of them?”

“Yes, they are at the docks. Pier 81, Warehouse B. They were kidnapped by members of the Russian mob, and they were going to be sold off somewhere, until I stopped them, that is. I trust you’ll be here to pick them up and take them to the station so they will be returned to their homes,” Jason said with the same cadence.

“Wait, Who are you?” Richard asked, he sounded aghast at the news he had just heard.

Jason paused for a moment; he had to come up with a name, and he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“The Spectre. You’ll be hearing about me a lot more. Maybe we’ll meet face to face.” Jason said chuckling. “Before I hang up, I want you to only take your most trusted officers to help these women. I have a hunch to think that members of organized crime families have infiltrated many of the public offices.”

“How am I supposed to believe --” Richard began to yell.

“You’re welcome to not, but how else would someone make sure no cops were around the docks and that all the alarms were never responded to?” Jason interrupted. 

Silence on the other end.

“Food for thought,” Jason said, hanging up the phone.

Jason told the women to stay there and that some police officers would be there to take them home. He gave them some rope he found to tie up the members of the mob in case they woke up, but Jason didn’t think they would. He had hit them all pretty hard. 

Jason made his way back home by climbing up his building’s fire escape and sneaking back into his room. 

He took off his tux and mask before throwing them into the laundry along with his gloves and socks. He had a lot of blood on his suit, but none of it was his. 

Weeks passed and he hadn’t made much headway on who and where Nicolai was; Jason had been busy stopping other crimes. He had stopped a serial killer named James Canter, whom the news called “The Butcher of Bowing Street,” and he stopped the Junction Street Jaguars from pipe bombing a nightclub in territory controlled by another low-ranked gang. The Spectre was becoming a legend; criminals feared the Spectre and the justice he would serve. Spectre swore never to kill anyone, even if they deserved it. The night that he had put an end to an arms trade between two gangs, Jason took a few blows to the chest and his face. He was bruised all over. Jason made some changes to the Spectre’s costume, and he invested in some maroon-colored gloves so he did not have to keep washing his white ones. He had developed a cape that doubled as a glider that was connected to a hood, both of which were colored gray and were, again, fireproof. His tuxedo still needed to be cleaned every night. Jason needed to relax in the shower after he just finished scrubbing the blood out of his tuxedo. He might consider investing in a few more white tuxes. 

 He had just turned on the water to take a shower when he heard the door unlock and a voice he knew, his favorite voice in the entire world, that of Melissa. His fiance was home from college. 

“Jason, I’m home,” she called.

“Melissa!” Jason threw on his pants and undershirt and ran to greet his fiance.

They ran towards each other as if in a movie and gave each other a hug they had been waiting a long time for. 

“Why are you back so early?” Jason said.

“I’m taking the rest of my classes online, but oh God! what happened to you?” Melissa said, holding up his hands, “and your face? Did you get mugged?”

Jason had forgotten he had bruises on his face, due to the surprise of seeing the love of his life. Melissa barely approved of the dangerous stunts in his magic act and hated watching his shows because of it. She would never in a million years be okay with him fighting criminals while getting shot at. Jason didn’t want to worry her every night; she just couldn’t know, even if it made him feel like he had just ripped his heart out of his chest. Jason needed to come up with something.

“Uhhhhh, I was practicing a trick and fell off the chair a few times.”

“Oh God, Why do you do this to yourself?”

“Melissa, I--”

“I know, you love your job, but it still makes me worried. I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” Melissa said softly.

“I’m alright, it’s just a few bruises, and they’ll be gone in a couple of days,” Jason said, in almost a whisper.

“I was just so scared something bad would happen when I was in England, and I wouldn’t see you again.” 

“It’s fine, I’m right here,” Jason whispered. “I’ve left the water running, I was going to take a shower, so I’m gonna go do that real quick.”

Jason made his way back to the bathroom. The steam was heavy and the water was hot, but Jason only felt cold. He had lied to his future wife, the woman he had promised to love and cherish. He was hiding something dangerous from her; what if he died and just never came home one day? What if he got arrested by the police and his identity was revealed to the public? He didn’t want to think about that scenario. He wouldn’t let any harm come to her. He swore this to himself.

Jason exited the shower and changed into a pair of pajamas that Melissa had custom-made for Jason that had cartoons of magic wands and top hats on them. Melissa had fallen asleep by the time he got into the room; she was exhausted. Jason flicked the light off and crawled into bed with his fiance. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow, but another dream happened. A biker bar, downtown. Two gangs, the Angels of 3rd street and some more members of the Jaguars were discussing terms of an agreement to take control of a part of the city back from the Russians. Jason shot awake.

“No, NO!” he whispered, but he needed to see more, learn more.

“Melissa just got home; you can’t just leave in the middle of the night to fight a bunch of gangsters,” the voice Jason called “Loving Husband,” said. The voice was Jason’s, a regular human voice, one that could bring comfort.

“People could be killed in the crossfire if they enact this plan to take over some territory. You need to stop them,” another voice, this one Jason called “The Spectre” spoke. The voice was different, it was grizzled and deep, much like how he spoke to Richard on the phone or any criminals he interrogated, and this voice brought fear rather than comfort to Jason’s mind. 

He looked over at the closet containing his white stage tuxedo, cape, and other equipment.  It was the ghost in his closet, a ghost that terrorized the criminal underworld of Krystal, but simultaneously a ghost that terrorized Jason himself. He got up and changed for the second time that night. He went to open the door to the balcony, glanced at the clock, and saw that it was two o'clock in the morning. Melissa was exhausted and didn’t have classes or work the next day, so she would be asleep until late morning the next day.
“I got time,” Jason thought to himself as he pushed himself off of the balcony again, this time grabbing the edges of his cape with his hands and feet as if jumping off a diving board. He glided to the roof below, his boots hitting the concrete roof. He ran to the edge of the building but stopped. He looked back at his home, at his room, where his fiance slept, where he built a life for himself. The wind sounded like Melissa’s soft breath, and the cold night felt slightly warmer. The sounds of police sirens snapped him out of the trance, and as he turned around to face the concrete jungle which was Krystal, the air suddenly felt much colder. He closed his eyes. Two figures showed up in his mind; they were both him. One was wearing his pajamas, his clean hand was holding a ring, and he was smiling softly at Jason. The other was wearing a tuxedo, his hands and face were bloody and he was holding his mask in his hand, but he grimaced at Jason. They both mouthed words Jason had wished they hadn’t.

“The choice is up to you.”

Jason opened his eyes, he had stood there silently for so many minutes already. He looked at a puddle on the roof and saw himself in the mask, and he made his choice. He turned around and walked fifteen paces before turning around and sprinting; he needed the running start. He hopped between roofs as he made his way downtown to stop a gang war before it began.



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