A Day Later In The Sun

  There were photos, notes, and strings linking various bits of information all over the case board that was hanging on the wall. Luke had been able to avoid The Skull Mask for far too long, but his fortitude was only growing stronger.

  Luke couldn't help but experience a combination of boredom and excitement as he examined the most recent reports and bits of proof. The vigilante's activities were premeditated, leaving a cryptic trail that was nearly impossible to follow.

  He tried using surveillance footage of every time a crime was reduced the skull mask vigilante appeared but he couldn’t pinpoint a detailed look as the footage was too fast for pausing. The only thing that was visible to him was that it was like he was watching a ghost attack its prey feeding off human fears.

  Luke clenched his teeth, making his annoyance clear. He murmured to himself, "Who are you, Skull Mask?" He had dealt with a great deal of criminals over his career, but none had been as elusive and mysterious as this vigilante.

  His phone vibrated with a new message distracting him from the screens. It was a message from Mickie saying:

  Mickie: found anything you might be interested in? Meet me at 9 the Street Museum

  He responded to her message:

  Luke: I’ll be there as quickly as I can.

  Luke had left his office rapidly grabbed his belonging and set out.

  Upon arriving at the museum, he found Mickie patiently waiting on his arrival.

  What did you find, Mickie? Luke asked, keeping a low voice during the sombre environment of the museum.

  They moved down the halls, their footsteps echoing in the quiet room, and Mickie signalled for him to follow. She took him to a part of the museum that specialised in the criminal history of the city, a room full of exhibits that traced the development and demise of numerous criminal organisations.

  “So, talk to me about what you discovered?”

  “One exhibit included several newspaper clippings, which Mickie indicated. "Winston's operations suffer a serious setback each time the Skull Mask hits.”

  “Don’t we know that already?”

  “You will understand, we said it before but he is trying to break down everything that Winston has built just by pure efficiency. 90 per cent of individuals have some form of association with Winston. I think we’re taking this person too lightly.

  “Besides look on top of the roof,” Mickie said

  Luke was struck flabbergasted by what he saw from the top of the museum: only unconscious individuals being hung by their feet.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Like I said we shouldn’t take this person lightly.”

  “Are these the people?” he said slowly

  “Those are the people sir.”

  Detective Luke Pierce questioned whether the investigation was worthwhile because it seemed like it might drag on for years because of the imagined nature of what was projected upon him.

  Midnight had arrived at Taz's apartment, and Lee was uncomfortable because he was perspiring nonstop under his covers. It was too much for him, and he had to leave the flat.

  As Lee snuck out of Taz's house, his footsteps could hardly be heard due to the darkness. The streets were disguised in a quiet silence that provided the ideal backdrop for the hidden gloom that dwelled within him. His psychological state became a perpetual battleground between his need for revenge and his commitment to upholding justice.

  The other self's grip on his heart grew stronger with each step he made. His breathing picked up, his senses increased and his vision appeared to become used to the darkness. He was both Lee, the troubled individual, and the Skull Mask, a lawbreaker whose presence he unwillingly accepted.

  The Skull Mask's energy for justice was limitless, but it was accompanied by an eviller appetite: the need to hurt those who had mistreated the defenceless. He found it difficult to understand and was unable to oppose that element of himself.

  Lee noticed a frightening change starting to take place as he moved through the dead alleyways. The separation between his human identity and the Skull Mask started to blend as his breathing turned shallow and his skin burned with anticipation. He was suddenly overcome by a darkness that had always been a part of him and was just below the surface.

  The trench coat from The Skull Mask emerged on the man's body, billowing like the cloak of a phantom. His face had been encased in a pale, scary mask, giving him a spooky appearance that made everyone who ventured to approach him shudder.

  The figure spoke softly in Lee's ear, pleading with him to allow him to get revenge on these worthless humans.

  He ran across a low-life thug whose presence stinking of venom as the first criminal he faced. With eyes that shimmered with a barbaric desire, The Skull Mask fixed his attention on him. Lee let the darkness take over at that precise time by letting all inhibitions go.

  He travelled from landscape to landscape.

  He moved with a precision that seemed almost magical, striking the thug with a quickness that transcended human boundaries. It acts the darkness had supernatural power over him, directing every action he took. Blood was spilt, and as the thug's cries echoed in the night, Lee felt a disturbing sense of satisfaction. A satisfaction he knew was not his own.

  Just like the first-time history repeated as many became his victims. Lee as his other half did nothing but hysterically laugh with whom he crossed paths with. It couldn’t be stopped he needed to feed the hunger of the beast. It was now late enough in the evening for him to be accused of being a serial killer. It was hilarious how quickly Lee turned into one after gaining supernatural abilities.

  The sun began to cast its golden colour, his persona was filled with energy allowing Lee to reverse back to himself.

  The dark forces switched off calling it a day. Lee stumbled through the deserted streets breathing heavily exhausted through the hours of feeding his evil.

  Quickly, he found himself back at Taz’s apartment where he swiftly crawled inside from the window. It was quiet except only Taz’s heavy snoring which indicated Lee was in the clear. Going into the bathroom washed his face and looking the reflection of himself staring gloomily.

  Stepping into the shower cautiousness where the bland colour of the water began to mess with his sight terrifyingly turning into a red wine colour as this was the symbolism of the blood he had taken away from his victims.

  Meanwhile, Maya was busy with other things. She was playing with her fingers on her keyboard like she was playing the piano. Looking for the most reliable detectives. She managed to find someone reliable happened to be Detective Luke Pierce who piqued her interest.

  “My lucky day finding someone reliable.” She said full of energy.

  Hoping that he will understand and knowing the risk she decides to message Detective Luke Pierce.

  Maya: Detective Pierce, please. We probably share some interest in taking down Winston. Let's work together.

  In the meantime, Luke's phone buzzed with a notification on the opposing side of town. His interest peaked as he gave the screen a quick look. He was interested in the contents of the communication, which came from an unidentified sender:

  As he read the message, Luke's brows wrinkled. This anonymous tip surfaced too crucial to ignore, and he had been looking for any clues that may point him in the direction of Winston's end. Before making an option, he considered the benefits and hazards.

  “What decision does he make?”