Falcon the 3rd – Issue #2
A Stormy Night in Thundarr Forest
Rain pounded against the rocky cliffs of Thundarr Forest, and wind howled through the dense trees. Inside the Cave of Falcon, Faro Faros sat at his study table, a study lamp casting a dim glow over the worn pages of the History of Falcons book. His fingers traced the ancient text, detailing the legacy of those who had worn the title before him.
Outside, thunder cracked like the roar of a beast, shaking the very foundation of the cave. Then—loud knocks echoed against the steel cave door.
Faro froze.
His instincts flared. Who could be out there in this storm?
He reached for the security camera feed, but the monitor was pitch-black. The storm had cut off visibility.
Still, he hesitated. He had forgotten to wear the Power Ring, leaving him vulnerable. But curiosity—perhaps recklessness—drove him forward.
Faro pressed the steel cave door open button. The door slid apart in the center, retreating into the stone walls with a low mechanical hum.
Darkness greeted him.
The rain howled, the wind shrieked, and Faro raised his flashlight, its bright beam cutting through the night.
Nothing.
He exhaled, his muscles tensed, ready to close the door—
Then a face appeared in the flashlight’s beam.
Murder Dog.
The grotesque white mask with red fangs shone like a nightmare in the rain. Murder Dog stood motionless, water dripping from his coat, his empty black eye sockets staring directly at Faro.
Faro’s heart pounded.
Lightning flashed.
Murder Dog lunged.
Faro barely had time to react before the assassin crashed into him, knocking the flashlight from his grip. They tumbled onto the cave floor, rolling through the dimly lit chamber. Faro grunted, trying to shove Murder Dog off, but the killer was stronger—far stronger than before.
A gloved hand clamped around Faro’s throat, pressing him against the stone floor.
“You let me in, Falcon,” Murder Dog growled, his voice dripping with menace. “Now you die in your own home.”
Faro gasped, struggling for air, his fingers grasping blindly toward the study table—toward the Power Ring lying just inches away.
Murder Dog followed his gaze and slammed Faro’s head against the ground.
“Not this time.”
Pain exploded in Faro’s skull. His vision blurred, but he thrust his knee upward, slamming it into Murder Dog’s ribs. The assassin grunted, his grip loosening just enough.
Faro rolled away, scrambling toward the table. His hand snatched the History of Falcons book, and without hesitation, he swung it hard into Murder Dog’s face.
THUD!
Murder Dog staggered backward, stunned.
That was Faro’s chance. He lunged for the Power Ring and slipped it onto his finger.
A golden burst of energy erupted, washing over him in a blinding flash. Power surged through his veins. His strength returned in an instant.
Murder Dog took a step back, sensing the shift.
“Too late,” Faro said, his eyes glowing with Falcon’s power.
He charged forward, driving a powerful punch into Murder Dog’s gut. The assassin flew back, crashing into the cave wall with enough force to crack the stone.
Murder Dog slumped, breathing heavily. But he laughed—a low, eerie chuckle.
Faro stepped closer, rain dripping from his face. “Why are you here?”
Murder Dog lifted his masked face, the red fangs glistening in the dim light. His voice was calm, almost amused.
“You’re not the only Falcon left.”
Faro’s blood ran cold.
Before he could press for answers, Murder Dog threw a smoke bomb to the ground.
BOOM!
Thick smoke engulfed the cave. Faro coughed, waving his hand to clear the air—but when it finally dissipated, Murder Dog was gone.
All that remained was the sound of the storm raging outside… and the unsettling words lingering in Faro’s mind.
“You’re not the only Falcon left.”
