Shakradom

Agent Flanagan staggered out of the subway stairwell in downtown New York. In a city where people kept to themselves, even on crowded midday sidewalks, no one took notice of the blood dripping down the ends of the agent’s fingers as they dangled loosely at his sides.

Two hours earlier, he had received a call from his contact. Shakradom was on the move. The shadowy man-creature had been spotted dropping off of the subway platform on Fifth and Brunswick, quickly disappearing down the dark tunnel.

Agent Flanagan wasted no time setting his team in motion. They were all members of the “non-existent” government agency known as Shadow. It was their job to keep the country safe, not from terrorists, but from things that went bump in the night.

They called themselves Monster Chasers.

Shakradom was one of their pet projects. His profile was sewer and subway abductions. He lived in the darkness of the New York underground and survived by picking the local low-hanging fruit, those unobserved citizens of the city that could be taken without their absence being noticed. His opportunities were numerous.

Flanagan’s team isolated the section of tunnel where Shakradom was last reported. His only way out would be to hitch a ride on a train. Flanagan intended to be on that train.

Fifteen minutes later, they had him! Ten agents, one subway car and a monster. The action became a confusing blur of blood and bodies. Shakradom's speed and strength were super human.

Now, on the sidewalk, the agent spoke into his wrist causing a black sedan to pull up quickly.

“Is it done?” asked his fellow agent.

“Yes. It’s done,” said Flanagan. A slow smile crossed his face as the bite mark on his neck rapidly healed over.

Word count 293

Special Thanks to Louise Broadbent whose critique contributed greatly to the quality of this story.