"The Sensational Night Shadow in… Supernatural Olympics"

Chapter 1

Created by The Spectacular SpiderDom

In the city of Seattle, Washington, 2035…

"Ah… ah, ah… AHHHHHHHHHHHHH CHOOOO!" A Spanish woman in her sixties sneezed into a Batman comic, as she wiped her nose against the sleeve of her white blouse with pink flowers. Her glasses fell against the carpet and she leaned down to pick them up.

Sitting against the couch, the woman sneezed into the comic one more time before she placed it on the coffee table. Moaning and groaning, she wished that all of her misery would come to an end.

Her name was Louise Connor: the grandmother of Sydney and Amber.

She came down with a nasty illness two days ago and she's been staying at Sydney and Mason's apartment ever since. Hoping that staying at her granddaughter's place would make her feel better, Louise realized that her illness made her feel worse.

Her white hair was frizzy, her green eyes were bloodshot, and veins popped out of her arms. Her coughs were as loud as horns and her sneezes sounded like earthquakes. Louise was miserable, but the one thing that she thought would make her feel better was a nice bowl of tomato soup that her granddaughter's boyfriend was cooking in the kitchen.

Speaking of her relative, she and her sister, Amber walked into the room after hearing the sneeze.

They both shook their heads, feeling sorrow for their grandmother.

"Oh, Grandma," Sydney said in a worried manner. She walked over and cringed when she saw one of her boyfriend's comics on the table. He was gonna be mad if he saw that. "Comic books aren't tissues. They're not even made of the same material."

"AHHHH CHOOO!" Louise replied, sneezing into her sleeve. "Sorry, Sydney… I can't control myself when I'm sick… Amber, be a dear and get me a real tissue, please?"

"Sure, Grandma," Amber nodded. She looked to her right and took out a whole box of tissues sitting on the table. Whipping out three of them, she held them up to her grandma's nose. "When I count to three, I want you to blow as hard as you can, okay? One… two… thr-"



Louise blew all of her snot into the tissue, which turned it from white to green.

Slime dripped from Amber's hand, which filled her eyes up with shock and disgust. Wanting to cringe, she peeled the tissue off her hand and tossed it into the garbage. She reached for some wipes next to the tissue box and cleaned her hands of the oozing snot.

"Do you need anything else, Grandma?" asked Sydney.

"Just some tomato soup will do," Louise replied before she sneezed again.

Mason Moonstone: The Sensational Night Shadow, and his best friend: Jerry Vanderhoff came into the living room with a steaming hot bowl of tomato soup in the former's hands. The latter had a spoon and a napkin.

"Did somebody order a delicious bowl of tomato-" Mason said, as he looked down and saw the fate of one of his comic books. "Aw, son of a bitch! Ms. Connor, we've had this discussion three times. Comic books are not tissues."

"I already made that joke, Mason." Said Sydney.

Putting down the soup, Mason picked up his comic and watched as green snot dripped all over Batman's face. He shook the comic in hopes of cleaning it, but the green ooze stuck to the paper.

"Gross," Mason mumbled.

"I'm sorry about that, Mason," Sydney apologized, as she helped her grandma sit up straight. "I promise, I'll buy you another copy."

"Eh, it's fine. This issue sucked anyway," Mason replied. "How're you doing, Louise?"

"I'm okay, Mason," the old woman answered, as she took a spoonful of soup and slurped it down. "Man, this is some good stuff."

"Any idea when she's gonna get better?" Jerry inquired.

"No idea, Jerry," Sydney replied. "She's been like this for days and it keeps getting worse by the minute. Mason and I tried turning down the thermostat, but it didn't do anything. We tried putting the fan on, but that didn't help. I'm not sure what to do at this point."

"Those medications we ordered should do the trick," Amber suggested.

"But that was ordered a few days ago, right?" asked Jerry. "What the hell is taking the doctor so long to get them ready? I'm no medical expert, but it doesn't take long for a doctor to prescribe medications, does it?"

"This doctor, Dr. Don'tBig, makes all of his medications by himself," Sydney responded. "He told me it takes a few days for him to make."

"Are you sure asking that guy to make the medications was a good idea, Sydney?" Mason rubbed the back of his head. "He only talks to people online. Don't you think that's a bit suspicious?"

"Knowing this generation, Mason. Nobody talks to anyone physically anymore," Jerry said. "We all just rely on cell phones to do that shit."

"He's got a lot of good reviews, Mason," Sydney patted her boyfriend on the shoulders. "I'm putting my trust in him. But god damn it, if he doesn't call in the next five seconds-"

Sydney's cell phone began to ring.

"Wow, how convenient," Mason chuckled.

Reaching into her pocket, Sydney pulled out her phone and answered the call.


"Hi, this is Dr. Don'tBig. Is this Sydney Connor?"

"Yes, this is her. How are you?"

"I'm doing great. Hey, listen. I have the medications ready for your grandmother. Sorry, it took me a while, but I had to buy all the medications and customize some ingredients. But I got it all set up here. How's Louise doing?"

Louise sneezed on Mason's comic.

"Son of a bitch!" Mason snarled, yanking the comic from her hand.

"She's… fine," Sydney replied. "Thank you so much, Doc. I'll be there in a few minutes to pick it up. What's your address again?"

The doctor gave her the address.

"Thank you again," Sydney smiled. "I'll see you in a few. Goodbye."

Hanging up the phone, the girl heard her relative sneeze again.

Just as Sydney went to grab her sweater, she looked over at her grandma and watched her sneeze into a soft tissue. Amber gently fed her a spoonful of soup, as she lifted her head up and placed a pillow underneath. Mason and Jerry took a few covers from the couch and laid it over the old lady's body.

With a low sigh, Sydney placed her sweater down and walked towards her grandma.

"Mason, could you and Jerry go to the drug store?" she inquired. "I'm texting you the address."

Mason's phone received the message. Its owner checked the notification and said, "I thought you were going to get it."

"I wanna stay here and take care of my grandma with Amber. I need you and Jerry to go get the medicine."

"Let me help," Mason smiled. "It's not fair to leave you two alone. You need all the help you can get."

"I know what I'm doing, sweetie. Can you and Jerry just get it, please?"

"I don't see why Jerry and I have to go, why not have him get it by himself? I mean, I usually handle everything in the household, so I might as well stay and take care of everything, right?"

Sydney's eyes widened when she heard her boyfriend's statement. She adjusted her glasses before she snarled. "What?... d-did you just say that I don't do enough around here?"

"What?" Mason raised both eyebrows. "N-no! That's not what I said at all!"

"You know what, forget it! Just go and get the medicine!"

"But, Sydney!"



Before he could continue, Mason and Jerry were suddenly pushed out of the door by Sydney. She grabbed her boyfriend's car keys and threw them right at his chest, they landed in his hands. Giving Mason one last growl, she slammed the door and grunted to herself.

Jerry shared a frightened expression with his best friend.

"…let's go get the medicine." Mason gulped.

"Right behind you," Jerry replied.

Driving down the road in a silver van, Mason flipped on his turn signal and made a right-hand turn, blending in with the course of traffic. He was driving on the road unlike most civilians, who flew their vehicles across the sky. But unfortunately, he wasn't the only one driving on the road. People were cutting him off and honking at him for no reason, which angered him to an extent. Rolling his eyes, he honked at someone who was texting on their phone.

"It's 2035 and you're still texting while driving?" he snarled. "Step on your gas, asshole!"

Jerry scrolled through Mason's phone. He was in charge of navigating their way to the drug store. Clicking on a right blue icon on top of the screen, he zoomed in and saw that they were only a few minutes away from the store.

"How far are we, Jerry?" Mason inquired, as he flipped his left signal and made another turn.

"We should be there in three minutes," Jerry replied. He watched as Dunnere stuck the middle finger at another driver on their phone. "Hopefully, we don't get involved in too much traffic. Amazingly, we live in a society where people are still dumb enough to text and drive."

"Like my grandpa always says, you can't fix stupid," Mason lightly stepped foot on his brake, as another person cut him off. Honking his horn, he cursed, "You son of a bitch! Use a god damn signal! This is Seattle, not Florida!"

Jerry chuckled at the insult.

As he calmed himself down, Mason glanced over his demon, who rested on his shoulder. Gripping his hands around the steering wheel, the French man took a deep breath, as he thought about the dispute he had with Sydney.

He wondered if what he said was truly awful. He didn't mean anything harsh when he said it. Looking at his mirrors, he was curious if what he said did hurt Sydney's feelings. It was true for the most part; he cooked, he cleaned, he went to work, he'd go out as Night Shadow, he'd do some laundry, he'd do everything imaginable, but he also remembered that Sydney contributed to his home as much as he did. While she only worked nights while he worked most days, she did tidy up the apartment to the best of her ability. Mason lowered his head in shame and shook it left and right, feeling bad for putting Sydney down in front of her sister and her sick grandmother.

He turned to Jerry, wanting an opinion.

"Hey, Jerry. Can I ask you something?"

"Was ist los, Mason?"

"When I told Sydney I normally do everything around the house, did you think I was being harsh to her? I have a feeling I was."

The German man looked to the side and tapped his chin. "Hmm… I wouldn't say that you were being harsh. Some people may say so, but I think that this was an example of miscommunication. You were implying that because you do a lot around the house, it would make sense that you'd help out Sydney with taking care of her grandma. However, Sydney took that in the wrong way and assumed you were calling her useless, meaning that this is an example of interpersonal communication. My man, Friedemann Schulz von Thun would be proud. Make a right down this street."

Mason did as told, chuckling. "Thanks, Jerry," he frowned and took another breath. "Sometimes, when I argue with Sydney, I feel like I'm treating her as horribly as her dad did."

"Nah, I don't think this argument was that serious. It's not like you called her out for being creative like he used to do."

"True. But I hate arguing with Sydney. I know couples fighting with each other happens a lot, but whenever we fight, I feel like I'm as selfish and arrogant as her father. He and his wife were ruthless billionaires who believed that any artist should be taken to an insane asylum. What kind of parent says that to their children? I certainly wouldn't tell my kid that!... I know it sounds like I'm overreacting, but the truth is, I don't want there to be a day where I lose my head to the point where I become a clone of her father… am I overreacting to this, Jerry? Or am I just being a millennial who doesn't know shit about relationships?"

Jerry placed a hand on his best friend's shoulder. Dunnere moved over and sat on Mason's head. "Listen, Mason. I think you're overthinking this. You and Sydney have been together for years, you've loved each other since college. I've seen some arguments between you two and you always make up in the end. Do I think you act like Donald when you two argue? No. You're far from the man Donald is. I think you and her need to have a small talk when we get home. Clear things up with her, you know?"

Dunnere nodded in agreement.

Mason made another right before looking up at his demon, who replied with a wink and thumbs up. Mason smiled before he fist-bumped his best friend.

"Thanks, Jerry… I needed that."

"Kein problem, dude-whoa, we're here!"

"Oh, shit!"

Mason looked over his shoulder before he quickly flipped on his signal and made a sharp left turn, nearly bumping into another vehicle. He pulled into a driveway and approached a parking lot, where an old stygian restaurant lied in the middle.

With a red and yellow paint job on the roof, the place was covered in white-colored bricks and had badly painted cartoon characters on the side of the walls. One resembled a dog while the one next to it looked like a rooster. It was hard for Mason and Jerry to make out their features because the paint was peeling off.

Both men raised their eyebrows and exchanged a curious nod.

Jerry handed Mason back his phone, as the latter looked down at the app. The screen told him that he arrived at his destination, but both men were concerned.

They looked at the restaurant, then at the phone, then at the restaurant again, then at the phone.

"This can't be right," Mason said, as Dunnere got a closer look at the screen. "Are you sure this is the place?"

"It says so on the map," Jerry replied. "But that doesn't make sense. Why would a doctor's office be at-" He turned his head to the old restaurant. "Hold the phone."

Getting out of the van, he closed the door and walked a few feet forward, looking up at a damaged sign. He snapped his fingers and turned to Mason.

"Mason, get out here! You gotta see this!"

Hesitant, Mason and Dunnere exchanged a glance before both of them got out of the car. With the salamander demon sitting on his shoulder, Mason stood next to his best friend.

"Does this place look familiar to you?" Jerry inquired.

Mason squinted his eyes, carefully analyzing the grotesque place.

It took him a few seconds to figure out what it was.

When he did, he dropped his jaw. "Holy shit!"


"This isn't what I think it is, is it?"

"Oh, yeah it is."


Both Mason and Jerry spoke the restaurant's name. "Street Dawg Munchies!"

They both laughed and looked back at the place.

"Dear God, I remember this place. This was one of the ugliest food places in Seattle!" Mason folded his arms. "Pizza stains all over the floor, the smell of burger grease all over the place, rigged video games, the whole thing was a disaster!"

"Well, you know it wasn't always a fast food arcade crap hole," Jerry pointed out. "Remember when this was an Italian Diner? What was it called again?"

"Weegee's," Mason replied. "Yeah, that place was amazing! Sydney and I had our first date there."

"Didn't Nelson and some chick double date with you guys here?"

"Yes, he did! Gosh, Weegee's was amazing! Gorgeous scenery, delicious food made from fresh ingredients, and the live music was so catchy. That was music at its finest. Not that crap that's played today."

"Back before dubstep and techno took over the world, ha-ha," Jerry placed a hand on his hip. "This place used to be remarkable, but sadly, it was bought out by some kids company. When that happened, it went from being a peaceful eatery to another one of those arcade places that serve crummy food."

"Tell me about it. I'm very surprised the manager of Weegee's sold his place to those corporate assholes," Mason shook his head. He then snapped his fingers and turned to Jerry. "Hey, wait a second. Didn't your sister, Charlie, have her fifth birthday party here?"

"Oh, Scheiße," Jerry rolled his eyes. "Don't remind me to the time my brother acted like a complete asshole."

"Mark?" Mason inquired. "What did he do?"

Jerry rubbed his arm, rolled his eyes again, and clapped his hands. "Five years ago, my parents had Charlie's fifth birthday party here, even though I told them having it at home would be cheaper and nicer. But of course, they don't listen to anything I have to say. So, they decided to take us here… where I got humiliated by my dickhead brother."

"You're starting to sound like Pyro Lad," Mason chuckled. Dunnere did the same thing. "But in all seriousness, refresh my memory. I don't know what happened. That is if you're cool with telling me, of course."

Jerry was skeptical to tell him at first, so he turned to the side and cracked his fingers. He rubbed his blonde hair and stretched his arms; he was ready to share his tale. "Mark made me look like a fool because I was scared of the main mascot: Street Dawg. I'm sure you remember, but if you don't, it all started when we picked you up from your dad's apartment and we pulled straight up the driveway…"