Conspiracy

A few days later back in Nashville, Smartz was patrolling on the rooftops in a shell that perfectly masked her Hispanic roots. Under the pale moonlight, she stood in a cat leather suit with long flowing locks of dark hair that caught the moonlight's shimmer and skin that was only a little bit darker than the complexion of milk. She looked as though she were standing at the edge of the earth and the view was staggering.
As she stood on the lonely rooftop, she felt the pressures of being in a role of leadership. She was now known as the experienced brains of the operation and she didn't know if she was truly ready to take on the daunting task of leading such a young group of men and women with the potential to do something legendary. She didn't have the same natural leadership abilities as Brody had or the same confidence as her best friend, Angel, and she wondered if intelligence would be enough to lead a group of people who already seem like they despise and distrust her.
She ran on those rooftops, leaping from one tall building to another with the same question pumping through her head. "Am I good enough?"
The wind she ran through was chilling but brisk enough to wake her up from another reality. It felt as though it were cutting away at her exposed smooth face, but she would not let the cutting wind damage her calm or resolute as she fought to find answers to questions she could not herself answer. She jumped into what seemed like an endless vortex of stars and spreaded her arms, embracing the freedom her intelligence built. The Smart Suit. One of her greatests inventions.
Just then a dark, masked figure shattered her calm as he tackled her into an adjacent office building. They both fell into a nearby set of cubicles, both made visible by the bright flourescent lights. They rolled and tussled for a few seconds before both of them regained their footing.
Smartz stood up first, be it a flow rise. She watched her opponent rise not much after she had. Like her, the dark figure was also masked, but unlike her, the masked figure only had his eyes and his nose covered and she could clearly see that the masked man was white. But a well built white man he was as she watched his muscles rise right along with him.
The man's massive build matched the fear building in her heart. His wingspan seemed to cover the entire room as the shadowy cloth on his back manipulated and covered the flourescent lights.
She followed the rise of the large shadowy figure and clenched her fists, ready to do battle with the impossible. Her eyebrows burrowed into an annoyed scowl as she peered into the shadow. No matter the fear that bubbled and boiled inside of her, she still knew she had to fight. It was then she had her epiphany. If she survived, she had to prepare her small troupe to battle an army of people that hated their kind. If she survived. If she didn't, she had to at least make sure she left behind a dent in the dark army, starting with this large shadow in front of her.
She sized the shadow up in what seemed like milliseconds and then she did the unexpected, at least for her. She charged fist first into the Shadow Man, declaring the first hit on the shadow.
His dark cloak had enveloped her as it seemed like she passed through an ethereal darkness. She swung wildly but it seemed as though she was fighting against a void oc nonexistence.
The sharp black corners of the Shadow Man's cloak engulfed her adage continued to fight off the temptation to succomb to the darkness with her fists, but she soon found that this was an exercise of futility. The corners attacked at an alarming rate and the light that was emitting from the flourescent lights soon became nothing but black. Her screams were inhuman, but in the chaotic city that was Nashville, her screams were unnoticed. They only fell on deaf ears as she was swallowed whole by the blackness, the conspiracy that was Shadow Man.