Ravenhearst Manor. Everything is quiet, barely any of it is visible in the scant light relegating it to a mere black silhouette against a barely less black backdrop of swathes of fog obscuring the moon. A black silhouette with the exception of one room, where the flickering light of a fire can be seen in its window. The camera cuts to the room in question, The Shadow’s study, where The Shadow is asleep at his desk and Sanford is in the potentially most uncomfortable position anybody could ever sleep in an armchair, snoring like a rusty saw trying to fell a redwood tree. The almost-serenity suddenly is broken by hastened steps nearing the door, bursting open with a bang, startling the two men.
Alistair McLean: Motur comin' up th' driveway.
The Shadow immediately is looking alarmed, at first at the Scot, then at the clock, which shows 2:20 am.
The Shadow: Who the…
Without waiting for a reply he rushes out of the study immediately.
The picture opens again in the study, Sanford fast asleep again, Alistair fighting to stay awake, as The Shadow comes back in, deep in thought. He strides to his desk, seemingly oblivious of the two men. Alistair approaches him as quietly can not to startle him or wake up Sanford.
Alistair: Did Ah hear Mia?
The Shadow breaks out of his thoughts.
The Shadow: Yes.
A smile comes to Alistair’s face.
Alistair: She is haem.
Despite his tiredness, The Shadow cannot help but smile.
The Shadow: Yes, she is home. It is good to see that she is back, a semblance of normality.
Alistair: Dae ye hink we ur oan th' reit way again?
The Shadow: Time will tell, Alistair, time will tell, but maybe this is the first piece of the puzzle...
Fades to black.
The weather is dreary, gone is the spring weather that had made parts of April at least somewhat enjoyable, now replaced with deep hanging, grey clouds, a foggy mist obscuring anything in the distance and light snow falling, adding to the oppressive feeling. A light dusting of snow already is covering the grass in the backyard of Ravenhearst Manor. Footsteps lead from the veranda across the lawn towards the small river. As the camera follows them, lead towards a figure clad in black, their head bowed, snow slowly gathering on the black fabric.
The Shadow: Looking back at the last few weeks and months, a lot has happened that could blacken the brightest sunshine, dampen the strongest spirit. The Forsaken, once standing proud against all odds broken apart, strewn into the four winds. Ataxia, former friend and ally turned bitter enemy. Myfanwy gone. Enough to break the will of stronger men, but whoever would think that this could bring me to my knees, never.
The camera turns around him and he looks up. Like Mia had seen, lines of sorrow and exhaustion are running deeper than before, giving him a far aged look. The only thing still reminding of The Shadow of old is a fire burning in his eyes, but even it seems different, darker somehow.
The Shadow: Mia finally feels like herself again, a bright spot in the dreary dark pit the Forsaken have become. Dorian nowhere to be found and Zach… You have never been officially a part of the Forsaken, I know, but you have been somewhat of an unofficial member. Yet of late I barely recognize you anymore. Where has the energy gone? This light-hearted enthusiasm has given way to a darker, edgier self that seems to put more emphasis on the grit and yourself than the “levelling up”.
Whatever may have brought on the change, wherever it may lead you, in Dallas we are a team for better or worse, but one word of warning - if you so much as hint at any shenanigans, you better watch out, because I am not going to tolerate any of this anymore.
The lines on his face further hardened he sighs and looks out into the distance.
The Shadow: Ataxia and Nathan Paradine - sometimes it feels like groundhog day, you seem to keep coming back. Paradine, I have fought you before and you are a fierce competitor, but sometimes it feels that even though you seem to be in the midst of things many times, even holding titles, you never seem to be in the same place for a long time. So your nickname of “The Nomad” fits you well.
Now this disposition can work both ways. For one you stay unpredictable, you never know where your path will lead you, so one never can get complacent about you and feel that they have figured you out. But at the same time constantly having to adjust to a different position, to a different environment, to a different premise can be grating and also disrupt any rhythm you might be close to finding.
He reaches into a pocket hidden somewhere in his long, black coat, pulling out a piece of burlap.
The Shadow: Another thing that might not quite work in your favour either is who you are teamed up with… Ataxia - you are beyond unpredictable on a good day. Anybody teamed up with you will either get the best tag team partner they have ever shared a ring with or could face a handicap match. Now when is the last time you had a good day? I dare to say that there was none since you snapped. Sure, you got the one-up on me at Vertigo, but still, looking at you, it was not a good day.
Mia is right, this is not you. I don’t know who, I don’t know how, but I will find out. Well, I know that Stewart has his fingers in this, but still, the how and even more so the why… I will find out. Right now I don’t have any proof that the kidnapping of Myfanwy is your doing, but if I found so much as a shred of a connection to you, Ataxia, hell will seem like a trip to the beach.
The last few words have been spit out with venom that was last heard when The Shadow was facing Elisha what feels like an eternity ago. With that he tosses the burlap into the the little stream, where it floats in the current for a bit before slowly sinking to the ground, while we hear footsteps fading away into the distance.