Chapter 7

The Cell

The sun rises above the horizon, casting a fiery orange glow across the city as Vance Malcolm, handcuffed and bleeding from the struggle, was forced into the back of a police wagon. His face twisted with rage, his lips moving in silent curses. His world was spiraling into chaos, and he knew exactly who to blame. As he glanced back at his once-impenetrable mansion, a thunderous explosion ripped through the air.

The blast shook the earth, throwing the surrounding police to the ground. Flames licked the evening sky as the mansion crumbled in on itself, sending plumes of smoke and ash billowing out like the breath of a demon. Officers who had entered moments earlier were consumed by the inferno, their screams silenced in an instant.

"What the hell just happened?" one officer yelled, scrambling to his feet.

Another shook his head, wide-eyed. "I don't know. It’s like the place just... imploded."

Vance, however, knew better. He smirked through the pain and muttered under his breath, "Joseph Marathan...."

A crowd began to gather, their whispers growing louder as they caught sight of Vance Malcolm in handcuffs. Their murmurs soon gave way to cheers, the noise swelling into a roar as one voice rose above the others.

“Maybe the Shadow Knight got him!”

The name spread like wildfire through the crowd. “Shadow Knight! Shadow Knight!” they chanted, their voices reverberating through the streets. The sound was a knife to Vance’s pride. He clenched his fists, his body trembling with fury.

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Inside the wagon, Vance sat seething. His lips curled into a snarl as he whispered, “I’ll kill them all. Every last one of them. The Shadow Knight, those bastard cops, the fools cheering out there. Mark my words—I'll paint the streets red with their blood!”

The wagon rumbled to a stop before a towering, fortress-like prison. Its stone walls loomed high into the sky, jagged like the teeth of some ancient beast. Vance was dragged out by his captors, his boots scraping against the gravel as they hauled him toward the massive steel gates.

One officer leaned in close, sneering as he slipped something into the pocket of Vance’s jacket. "Last meal," the officer spat mockingly.

Vance lashed out, spitting directly into the officer’s face. "You’ll regret that," he hissed, his voice venomous.

Unfazed, the officer wiped his face with a grimace. “Not as much as you’ll regret crossing us.”

Vance was shoved forward, his boots echoing off the cold stone floor as he was led through the prison corridors. Every sound amplified, the weight of the place pressing down on him like a shroud. Finally, they arrived at his cell—a dark, suffocating box with a single, grimy window letting in the faintest sliver of moonlight.

The door clanged shut behind him with a resounding finality. Vance stumbled to the ground, his hands clawing at the damp, rough stone. His breaths came in ragged bursts as his mind raced, calculating, scheming.

But then, he saw them.

Boots.

His blood ran cold as his eyes traveled upward, following the figure standing in the shadows of the cell. His breath caught in his throat as recognition slammed into him like a freight train.

“You…” Vance whispered, his voice barely audible. He scrambled to his feet, his movements slow, deliberate. As the figure stepped into the dim light, Vance’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Standing before him was Thomas Alfred.

Flashbacks tore through Vance’s mind like shards of broken glass. He remembered the train—the blood, the chaos, the screams. He remembered Thomas Alfred lying there, lifeless, surrounded by the bodies of his family. He had killed him. He was sure of it.

“You...” Vance repeated, his voice rising. “You’re the one I killed on that train. A year ago. You’re dead!”

Thomas stared back at him, his face a mask of cold indifference. “Thomas Alfred,” he said slowly, his voice dripping with an unholy calm, “died in that train accident. Along with his family.”

Vance stumbled back, his knees threatening to buckle as the weight of realization hit him.

“I... am the Shadow Knight,” Thomas said, his voice echoing in the silence.

The keys to every unanswered question fell into place. Vance’s mouth hung open, his mind racing, but for the first time in his life, he was at a loss for words. All he could do was stare as his world crumbled around him.

Thomas stepped closer, his eyes burn

ing with an intensity that pierced Vance’s very soul.

~BlackBlueKnight