Post by Rift on Jan 14, 2023 23:16:32 GMT -7
The night was dark without a star to be seen. This time it was not light pollution from the never-ending cascade of life in the big city, but rather a storm that brought with it swirling black clouds that blotted out even the moon. Occasional flashes of lighting snaked across the sky like angry serpents ready to lash out at anything that dared get too close. Still for all the spectacle not a single drop of rain fell. The entire event seemed like an external expression of what was happening within Marc Spector's head.
Since his return to New York he had been fighting. First with Midnight, but mostly with himself. The deal he had made with S.H.I.E.L.D, if you could call being forced to choose between being thrown in a hole at some black site unless he agreed to their terms a deal, forced him to operate differently. It had led to the creation of yet another personality, Mr. Knight. The investigator, the thinking man's superhero who worked with the cops instead of against them while still allowing them some degree of plausible deniability. In truth he considered it simply another aspect of Khonshu, one more representative of his nature as a protector of those who traveled at night than the Fist of Vengeance that was Moon Knight. It was a necessary step to prove to the city and the world that he was not the danger they believed him to be.
A new and improved Moon Knight. Kinder. Gentler. One who was willing to play by the rules of society and super humans alike.
The only problem with all of it was that it was a lie. He knew that whether it was him, Lockely, Grant, Mr, Knight, or the Moon Knight they were not beholden to the rules of man. They answered to Khonshu and sometimes Khonshu demanded more of his servant. Sometimes he just wanted Marc to use the old methods, to send a message to evil and those who sought to thwart his will alike.
Thus far he had tried to convince Daredevil and himself that he could do it. That it was a genuine attempt at redemption and a new take on life, but deep down he knew that it was really more like the sky he was staring at from his window. There was the howling wind, the booming of thunder, and the occasional crack of lightning just to remind those below that danger was near and could break out at any moment. It wasn't raining, not yet, but the storm was coming. It would start with a sprinkle and eventually grow until it was a downpour that would catch someone out in it. Maybe they'd drown or be swept away. Either way it was coming. If not with this storm than maybe the next, maybe on another night, but eventually it would happen.
Maybe it was the moon being concealed that let him have this moment of clarity and allowed him to ignore the always present consciousness of Khonshu pushing him to do more. Or maybe he had lapsed back into sanity for a few moments. There were days when even Marc wasn't sure if he was insane or not, if the moon deity was real or merely an aspect of himself. Whatever the case was it didn't matter.
One day he'd slip. Maybe a mugger would go too far or a kidnapper would say the wrong thing. Perhaps it would start with once more marking the scum of the world, branding them with the crescent moon. Or maybe he'd snap all together and start peeling off faces. After all he told himself that it was only Bushman, that only that evil that had tormented him for so long deserved that fate. But Khonshu may have other ideas.
He was walking the razor's edge and sooner rather than later he was going to slip off. The only question was whether he could catch himself before S.H.I.E.L.D or the wallcrawler or Captain America or even Daredevil decided he was no better than the villains they fought. Only a matter of time...
As clouds parted and the moon shone brightly for just an instant he looked down, ignoring Khonshu's low chuckle, and blood stains on his gloved hands. It wasn't his, he knew that. What he didn't know is whether or not the dam had already broken.
"No time to worry about that," he muttered, donning his mask and raising his hood once more. "There's more work to be done. More travelers that need looking over."
Since his return to New York he had been fighting. First with Midnight, but mostly with himself. The deal he had made with S.H.I.E.L.D, if you could call being forced to choose between being thrown in a hole at some black site unless he agreed to their terms a deal, forced him to operate differently. It had led to the creation of yet another personality, Mr. Knight. The investigator, the thinking man's superhero who worked with the cops instead of against them while still allowing them some degree of plausible deniability. In truth he considered it simply another aspect of Khonshu, one more representative of his nature as a protector of those who traveled at night than the Fist of Vengeance that was Moon Knight. It was a necessary step to prove to the city and the world that he was not the danger they believed him to be.
A new and improved Moon Knight. Kinder. Gentler. One who was willing to play by the rules of society and super humans alike.
The only problem with all of it was that it was a lie. He knew that whether it was him, Lockely, Grant, Mr, Knight, or the Moon Knight they were not beholden to the rules of man. They answered to Khonshu and sometimes Khonshu demanded more of his servant. Sometimes he just wanted Marc to use the old methods, to send a message to evil and those who sought to thwart his will alike.
Thus far he had tried to convince Daredevil and himself that he could do it. That it was a genuine attempt at redemption and a new take on life, but deep down he knew that it was really more like the sky he was staring at from his window. There was the howling wind, the booming of thunder, and the occasional crack of lightning just to remind those below that danger was near and could break out at any moment. It wasn't raining, not yet, but the storm was coming. It would start with a sprinkle and eventually grow until it was a downpour that would catch someone out in it. Maybe they'd drown or be swept away. Either way it was coming. If not with this storm than maybe the next, maybe on another night, but eventually it would happen.
Maybe it was the moon being concealed that let him have this moment of clarity and allowed him to ignore the always present consciousness of Khonshu pushing him to do more. Or maybe he had lapsed back into sanity for a few moments. There were days when even Marc wasn't sure if he was insane or not, if the moon deity was real or merely an aspect of himself. Whatever the case was it didn't matter.
One day he'd slip. Maybe a mugger would go too far or a kidnapper would say the wrong thing. Perhaps it would start with once more marking the scum of the world, branding them with the crescent moon. Or maybe he'd snap all together and start peeling off faces. After all he told himself that it was only Bushman, that only that evil that had tormented him for so long deserved that fate. But Khonshu may have other ideas.
He was walking the razor's edge and sooner rather than later he was going to slip off. The only question was whether he could catch himself before S.H.I.E.L.D or the wallcrawler or Captain America or even Daredevil decided he was no better than the villains they fought. Only a matter of time...
As clouds parted and the moon shone brightly for just an instant he looked down, ignoring Khonshu's low chuckle, and blood stains on his gloved hands. It wasn't his, he knew that. What he didn't know is whether or not the dam had already broken.
"No time to worry about that," he muttered, donning his mask and raising his hood once more. "There's more work to be done. More travelers that need looking over."
