Of Knights and Shadows

[Frosty]

Author’s Note: This is my first attempt at organized fan –fiction so this is going to be a feeling out process for me. I dedicate this story to the late Walter Gibson without, you Bob Kane and Bill Finger would have never even conceived of the notion of Batman. To these readers all over the world owe you a debt, which will never be repaid.

Disclaimer: I do not own nor have I any affiliation with either the Batman or Shadow franchises.

Of Knights and Shadows

Johnny Reno was never a man a man of any importance to the major syndicates in Gotham. Which is more than ironic when he is the very person who started an extraordinary chain of events, that would shake the foundations of a city not easily stirred. The point must be digressed however in favor of a simple telling of the facts as they unfolded chronologically.
Reno stood at a shade under 6 feet with broad lanky shoulders and an equally gawky frame with red hair and a cheesy thick mustache that never helped him bag any dames. His financial situation had always been of that of a distressing nature, working odd jobs for men like Roland Daggett, Rupert Thorn, and even when available Scarface or the Ventriloquist, never provided steady income. However, when push came to shove he was never arraigned with his ex-employers. Luck upon Johnny. But luck didn’t put food on his plate or pay for the fine-tailored clothes he was now wearing.
“ A long way from some skinny mechanic breaking thumbs for quarters,” muttered Reno. And indeed he was right. Johnny was a nobody until a month ago, until he came a long. The man who was responsible for the $500 and change in his pocket and the means to make more through his job tonight. The price? Unwavering loyalty, use what information he had as a “nobody” as the man had claimed, to give information about the shady dealings that went on in Gotham. No sweat, he owed him his life anyway, and the chance of being somewhat important in any regards was a breath of fresh air after being a packrat for years.
“These guns won’t move themselves though,” he muttered handing the next crate to the man next to him. The air in docks was thick that night, with the few harbor lights managing to pierce through the impregnable mist enveloping the four lackeys, including Johnny and their employer who had yet to make an appearance this evening.
“ I don’t get it,” said the portly fellow out side the boat whose name had escaped Reno. “ I got hire away from my turf on the east side just so I could pack hardware with only three other goons here? Something ain’t right”
Reno than jumped off the rocking motorboat. “ Had the same feeling myself, worked uptown for over a month when Thorn decides to loan me out for some “important” job. Humph, if it’s so great why only four guys and where’s the guy running things. Hey Frankie, Tim come’ ere,” he called the two men coming out of the warehouse. “Anybody told you whose in charge here?”
As Frankie was about to answer in the resounding negative he dropped the package in his hands and what must have been 2 dozen lead pipes spilled out all over the docks. Johnny’s eyes widened as a fearful voice within him emerged “ It’s a trap, let’s get out of here.” As the men scrambled to drop whatever they were doing gunfire pierced though the night mist as the four figures whose futures had seemed somewhat innocuous fell into one heap. Their bodies were placed into oil drums and thrown into Gotham River, to emerge whenever the city would bother fishing for bottom feeding hoods. “Curious,” the man in charge remarked “It seems that their deaths will prove far less noticeable than their lives already were.

The Cobalt Club in New York was jumping that night filled with the upper crest of Manhattan’s night scene. Among them loomed an intense presence, one that for the last 45 minutes waited for the phone call that had yet to be made. As Luck Morris and his Magnificent Orchestra prepared to dazzle the crowd with their chart topper, “ 4’ O Clock Stomp” A waiter possessing the highest maintenance of personal class for such an establishment was dispatched to personally relay a message to their most loyal repeat customer.
“ Mr. Cranston,” he addressed to the man who sat, surprisingly, alone, when others of his age and stature were feeling the infectious need to dance “There’s a telephone call for you in the front.”




Welcome to the Wonderful World that is occupied by The Shadow fellow readers. The second chapter may take some time but I hope you are willing to endure the wait.

[The Game]

Good start! Welcome to the boards!

[Panther]

A very good start and I also extend a welcome to the board. I'm very intrigued by the idea of a Shadow/Batman crossover. Just a little bit of advice - since we can't do paragraphs indentations on the board put a space inbetween paragraphs and differrent speakers just to make it easier to read.

later,

[witness]

Hey there new fanfic poster!!! I welcome you to our friendly little board! ::throws confetti at frosty:: Woo!

Though I hardly know anything about the Shadow, I'll read this story. Why? Cuz' I'm a fanfics junkie!!! Woo! Are you gonna follow the movie pretty much, or are you pulling from other material? I know that there was actually a Shadow movie. If I watch the movie, will I have a better understanding of what's going on in your fanfic?

Once again, welcome to the fanfics board!

[Frosty]

Thank You for your kind words and welcoming. I am taking the Shadow directly from the pages of the Walter Houston Pulp Novels(Nearly 400 were printed) from the early 1930's, and combining elements from the Radio Show featuring Orson Wells and the 1994 blockbuster starring Alec Baldwin. The Shadow was a major stepping stone in the super hero genre and is often cited as the main-influence for Batman (The Shadow was first published in 1930 while Batman made his debut in 1938). I am a student of the Golden Age Superheores. It is my sincere hope that after reading the next chapter which will be completed in several days, you will seek out the novels and will be suprised to learn where the writing styles I have witnessed all of you practice at some point. This is your favorite snowman signing off.