The Grim Spectre (12 page)

The Grim Spectre floated above the police facing him in stunned disbelief. One of them stood with one foot firmly on the Priest’s back, holding the deranged man in place while he fired his revolver at The Grim Spectre.

“Have you all gone mad?” The Grim Spectre roared, “This man is the evil who threatened a church full of innocents, what are you doing?”

“Like I said, Ghost, we’re taking you down,” the nearest cop reiterated, again firing his gun at the Grim Spectre.

Forgotten at their feet, the Priest surged to his own and in an impressive display of strength, threw the cop who had his foot on his back to the ground. Then hands still cuffed behind him, he charged up the steps at The Grim Spectre howling madly.

The assembled cops stopped firing in stunned disbelief as the Priest tried to tackle the ethereal avenger, and only fell through his immaterial form.

Without hesitation, The Grim Spectre reached down and grabbed his enemy with glowing, sparking hands. His ‘shocking touch’ sent waves of debilitating energy through the stunned ex-priest.

“Aaaaaaa!” shouted the Priest, before falling limply to the ground at The Grim Spectre’s feet.

He whirled immediately back to the assembled police and shouted, “Back you fools! I am here to protect this city, not to do battle with its sworn defenders.”

“Shoot ‘em!” bellowed a Sargent, and the rest of the men in blue immediately complied.

A new torrent of bullets ricocheted about his immaterial form, passing cleanly through The Grim Spectre, to ping off the stone and brick church behind him.

‘The people within! I must get away from here or they could be killed.’

With one last disdainful look at the police who were still shooting at him, The Grim Spectre flew skyward and disappeared from sight.

“He’s gone, stop firin’,” the same Sargent ordered.

The rest of the cops complied. It was a select group, a very select group of police. A group known personally by the Mayor. His own personal strike force totally loyal to him, and only him.

“Sargent Brass,” one of the officers called, “what do we do now? Do we go after him?”

“Where are we gonna go, Ryan. We have no idea where he’s off to. He got away, for now. We’ll get ‘im again. Let’s get outta here,” he ordered.

“What about the people inside?” Ryan asked.

“Leave ‘em,” Brass replied, “none of ‘em were brave enough to peek out the doors at us, so no one knows who we are. Let’s get outta here, the rest of the force is on its way, or can’t you hear the sirens getting’ closer?”

Ryan nodded, “I hear ‘em all right, and I’m right behind ya. But what do we do with him?” Ryan jerked his thumb at the unconscious Priest who lie sprawled across the sidewalk.

“Take him in; we’ll sort him out behind precinct walls,” Brass commanded.

“You got it, Sargent,” Ryan acknowledged.

The dozen cops who were at the church entrance all dispersed before the reporters behind the barricades could ask any questions, and to a man they hid their faces as well. They entered their cars and sped away from the questioning reporters.

High above, The Grim Spectre scowled beneath his horrific mask. He watched the rogue police disperse throughout the city and shook his head in invisible disgust, and then flew off when more police cars appeared on their way to the church.

‘I pray there are some honest cops left in this rat infested town. Otherwise everything I’ve done will have been for naught.’

The Grim Spectre flew off into the night, more troubled than ever.

Nearby, sitting in a big, shiny black Duesenberg a shadowed figure watched the goings on with intense curiosity.

“Interestin’,” he said aloud, “This Grim Spectre guy’s got enemies on both sides o’ the law. Still, the bounty on his head is large enough ta make me stand up an’ notice. He’s a challenge and that’s what drew me to this town. After all, there ain’t that many challenges left in this world to the ‘Soul Crusher’. We’ll meet very soon, Grim Spectre, I can promise you that.”

The man who called himself the ‘Soul Crusher’ started the Duesenberg and made a quick U turn from where his car sat at the curb, and then disappeared down the dark city streets of Riverburgh.

Two days later, Bobby lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. He had played at a small bar on the wharf the night before to a raucous and fun crowd. He had enjoyed himself even with the recent events still weighing heavily on him. It was close to noon now, and he had just awoken.

‘Am I doing the right thing? This ‘Grim Spectre’ thing is starting to spiral downward. Now I have both cops and thugs after me. Plus Zeus wants to hire me-Bobby me-to play at the Olympus Room. This just can’t get any crazier. But I’m scared it will before it gets any better, if it ever does. There’s always the chance I can just get killed doing this. If not for this magic belt, I’d be dead five times already.’

Bobby touched the belt, which was hanging on the bed post behind his head.

‘This thing is so tied up in my life right now, without it I don’t know where I’d be. DeLuca! I forgot all about him. I haven’t seen him in days. I better pay him a visit, but that’s going to have to wait until after tonight’s gig at ‘Salty’s’. It’s not often I get to play the same place two nights in a row, but I’m not gonna argue about it.’

Bobby got out of bed, peeling the covers off of his body. He was shirtless and wore simple pajama bottoms.

He crossed the room and looked at himself in the mirror on the back of his bathroom door.

Bobby touched his stomach and said, “Not even a scar. I’ve been cut and shot so many times I don’t remember anymore
and this magic belt heals me up every time. It’s incredible.”

He walked over to his tabletop radio and turned it on, then sat at his kitchen table.

But immediately the voice on the radio caught his attention.

The reporter’s voice spoke calmly, but it was filled with a polarizing electricity, “This is the scene at the Riverburgh Bridge, where a lone man stands atop it and threatens to jump to his death. The police and fire departments are helpless because the man, whoever he is, shoots at them if they begin to set up a ladder to climb up to him. He is making one demand, he wants the so-called ‘Grim Spectre’ to come there and speak to him. He claims that if The Grim Spectre does not, he will begin to shoot the firemen who are below him. Also it cannot be confirmed, but it is considered a valid concern that this man has planted a bomb at the tower on the bridge where he is standing. He has locked the staircase inside the tower so no one can climb up it. Right now it appears all of Riverburgh is hoping and praying that a seldom seen being named The Grim Spectre makes a rare daylight appearance. If you exist, Grim Spectre, you are needed to save the day.”

Bobby leaned over and turned off the rotary dial on the radio, hearing the definitive click as if it were thunder outside his window.

“Wonderful,” he muttered. He stood and opened his ice box, quickly downing some orange juice. He broke off a hunk of bread from a loaf he had bought the day before and ate it quickly, chasing it down with more orange juice, then he began to slip into his costume once more.

‘Here I go again,’
Bobby whispered.

Three minutes later he walked invisibly through his wall and floated through the sky, unseen, toward the Riverburgh Bridge in the distance.

‘Is this what it’s going to be like from now on?’
The Grim Spectre asked no one but himself,
‘One madman after another looking for a fight and me dodging Tammy while she’s trying to get an interview or find out more about the Grim Spectre? This gets worse and worse every day; it’s starting to become madness.’

He landed invisibly on the bridge tower, at the other end of it, across from where he found the man who was seeking him. The figure was kneeling and looking out over the city. He wore a trench coat and a fedora and had his back to where The Grim Spectre was invisibly standing.

After a moment The Grim Spectre faded slowly into view and said, “Turn and face me, o mortal man. I have come to you, not at your behest or order, but to save the lives of innocents. Why did you summon me?”

Slowly, almost theatrically, the man stood and turned toward The Grim Spectre. His face was hidden in the shadow of his hats brim and the coat covered his form in such a manner that The Grim Spectre could not see beyond the disguise hiding the man’s features.

The man walked toward him and finally when he was within arm’s reach said in a heavily accented voice, “You’ve come, good. I called you here, Ghost, to destroy you in front o’ the city, and to collect the bounty that’s out on you.”

“You are mad, mortal,” The Grim Spectre barked, “I am untouchable by your means.”

“Let’s check that out,” the man replied. In a flourish he threw off the hat and trench coat to reveal himself to The Grim Spectre. He was a bald headed brute of a man with a thick, full beard. He wore thick, crossed chains over his chest that ended at a pair of leopard skin briefs. A set of high boots laced up the front completed his garb.

“You are a…wrestler?” The Grim Spectre asked incredulously.

“I was, but I’m much more than that now, Ghost. I’m called the Soul Crusher.”

The Soul Crusher began to circle The Grim Spectre, who stared at his enemy in almost disbelief. He kept the Soul Crusher before him, not allowing him to get to his back.

“Stop this madness, human. I have no wish to harm you.”

“Yeah? Well it’s gonna be you who gets harmed, Ghost. I’ve spent years around men wearin’ costumes, d’ya think I would’nt know one standin’ in front o’ me? You ain’t no real ghost; you’re a guy dressed as one.”

He lunged at The Grim Spectre then, grasping at him with outstretched arms. But he fell right through him, stumbling to a stop before the end of the tower and the long fall toward death.

“I-I walked right through you,” the Soul Crusher stammered, “how’s that possible?”

“All is possible for one who walks between the world of the living and the spirits,” The Grim Spectre replied.

“Enough o’ your lies and foolishness. I don’t know how you did that, made yourself untouchable, but you’re not gonna do it again or I’ll blow up this tower and kill everyone below us.”

“How would you accomplish such a thing, human?”

“With this,” The Soul Crusher replied simply. He reached behind him and pulled out a small object he had hidden in the waistband of his shorts. It was a metal box with one button on it.

“What is that?” The Grim Spectre asked.

“It’s a device that uses radio waves, the same thing you listen to on your home radio, to detonate the bombs I hid inside this tower. If I press it, this tower goes kablooey and the bridge falls into the river, along with everyone on it. Fight me as a warrior would, without your voodoo tricks, or they all die.” He pointed down at the police and firemen milling about below them.

“Do what I say, or else,” Soul Crusher reiterated.

“Very well, human, but I do so to save lives of innocents, not for any of your foolish demands.”

“Bah, I’m gonna crush the life from your very soul!” the brutish man growled as he hurled himself once again at The Grim Spectre.

This time the Spectre did not become untouchable and instead held his ground. The bigger man slammed into him with bone jarring strength.

Instantly he felt the Soul Crusher’s great strength begin to come to bear.

‘He’s ridiculously strong,’
The Grim Spectre thought,
‘I can’t play at his game, I must take the offensive or I’ll be killed here,’

The Grim Spectre ducked beneath a flailing arm, which was seeking to get him in a choke hold and instead resulted in the Soul Crusher being on the receiving end of a powerfully thrown haymaker that drove him back several feet in surprise.

“You’re a strong one, Ghost,” The Soul Crusher said. He rubbed his jaw and grinned, “But you ain’t so strong that I can’t destroy you.”

Again he charged the Grim Spectre, but this time the Spectre ducked under the long, awkward grab and reached up to chop at his foes neck with a powerful blow.

Angered now, The Soul Crusher kicked out at the Spectre’s legs, sweeping them out from under him, and knocking the Grim Spectre to the surface of the tower.

‘I can’t fight him this way. He’ll beat me if I continue trying to play by his rules.’

Now The Grim Spectre changed tactics, as the powerfully built wrestler sought to grapple with him, The Grim Spectre unleashed two powerful haymakers to his enemy’s face, driving him back.

The wrestler shook his head like a dog trying to shake something in its mouth and then charged The Grim Spectre once again.

This time he passed right through The Grim Spectre and stumbled to a stop once he was past him.

The Soul Crusher turned angrily toward him and said, “I warned you what would happen if you used your cheap parlor tricks.”

He reached behind his back seeking the detonator and his eyes went wide in recognition. The Grim Spectre was holding the detonator in his ethereal hands.

“H-how did you? Give that to me!” The Soul Crusher shouted and charged The Grim Spectre once again in a deranged rush.

This time The Grim Spectre reached out with his right hand and grabbed the man by his throat as coruscating energy shot through his hand and into his foe.

The man called ‘The Soul Crusher’s eyes went wide in pain and surprise as he passed out at The Grim Spectre’s shocking touch.

The grim Spectre dropped him to the floor beneath his feet unceremoniously. Then he took the device in his hand and said, “What do I do with you now?”

Two minutes later the door leading to the roof of the tower burst outward and a group of police came charging through. There at their feet was the unconscious Soul Crusher, tied up with the chains that were wrapped across his body, and at his feet lay the detonator.

The Grim Spectre was nowhere to be seen.