Phantom Noir Episode 1 - Knockin' on a New Worlds Door

Knockin' on a New Worlds Door is the first episode of Phantom Noir. It was written by SuperNerd295.

Plot
Like usual, the streets of the afterlife were as lively as could be, with bright neon lights illuminating the tall shadowy buildings and the faces of it's men and women. People slowly drifted by the energetic and out of this world occurrences, still thinking they had a limited time to enjoy themselves. Others passed solemnly with regret, a deep self-fueled hatred for what they could have done, and who they missed. People were merely shells of their former self, a completely new and different look decided upon by themselves, their past, their interests, their job, their culture. This is the true, inner heart of one, the refined incorporeal representation of the soul. This is them.

The shuffling crowds of the dead lived on in this world, going about daily activities, talking with once lost friends and family. In a way, this new, immortal life had a great sense of closure, yet also a greater, deeper sense of loss.

He slowly trudged down the street in his olive jacket, the clack of his boot making his presence known to those around him. Turning their heads, those around him stared in disbelief as a gun materialized in his hand. "You know Baker..." He said, pulling his cap over his eyes. "You were really hard to track down. It's almost like your invisible." Pulling his cap up he smirked, staring directly at a man in yellow clothing.

"Listen sir, I don't know who this Ba-" And he was knocked onto the ground as the sound of running filled the street. Without hesitation, the armed man chased after him, looking for the shadow on the streets, the mark of a shoe, the sound of his feet and the harshness of his tired breath. A door flung open and he followed, chasing after the invisible man.

The inside of the room was dark, with only the light of the windows and open street illuminating the space full of glassware. In the dimmed building, he shot at first directly in front of him. BANG! Nothing. To his left. 'BANG! 'Nothing. To his right BANG! And then the shuffling of feet and broken glass. The man smirked. He opened fire at random, hoping to either scare or hit his target. 'BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! 'He scanned the wall quickly but with intense depth. Not a mark of blood could be seen in the dark room, just a few bullet holes were visible. "I suppose I should have switched earlier, now that we're in an enclosed space." He held up his gun and it started to glow blue, eventually fading away. In the place of the pistol came another shape, that of an automatic rifle. The mans hand clenched tightly around it's barrel, carrying it down so he could wield it properly. Staring at the right side of the room, he let loose a stream of bullets. After only two seconds he saw it. Blood. He focused his fire in the one area, but he didn't hit his mark. Confusedly, he looked around the spot where he was sure he hit him. Taking a step forward he noticed that he could see his feet. They rushed towards the man at an incredible pace, leaping over shelves and counters. The man let his gun fade away, pulling his left hand back, as it charged with electricity. Seeing the feet only a few meters away, the once armed man thrust his index and middle finger at the center of his foe, causing a massive electric shock. Thump. And the invisible man lay on the ground, unconscious, as his body faded back into view. The man in the olive coat sat down on his chest, making sure he couldn't move. Someones clapping echoed from the door.

"Well done Wade. That makes twelve." The woman was average sized, dressed in an expensive white dress with long blonde hair. But most peculiarly, she had a human face.

"Twelves not that impressive." Wade said, standing up and cracking his knuckles. "So Rochelle, whens my next mission?"

Attached to her back was a huge golden spear, that she grasped hold of while walking closer to the two men, eventually spinning it to her side. "Soon, I'll have to check the board to see who else is ready for damnation." Wade simply walked off from the man and leaned against a shelf with vases in it. The woman, Rochelle, leaned over the mans face as he returned to conscious. "Hiya!" She said smiling goofy like. The innocence of her grin masked the gruesome process she began on the man, by tapping his forehead with her spear. "Bye bye!" She cheered happily, ignoring his screaming as red cracks opened up over his body. From these openings, a blue liquid seeped out. Around the mans outline on the ground, an orange glow occurred. He began sinking into the ground, his screaming being nullified by that of a million others. People from the street came in to watch. Rochelle stood upright and turned to them, her spear floating to her back, and so didn't her hands. "Don't worry about Mr. Baker. He's just going to Hell until Lucifer has had enough of him." The crowd acted disgustedly, backing out of the building in a mass blob of colors.

"Honestly Roshelle... you don't feel any guilt doing that? It's disgusting." Wade quizzed, clearly annoyed. Rochelle stared at him.

"Wade, these men and women, they are sinners. They have committed unholy actions against the consent of God and his Angels. Whatever they get, they deserve." She approached him. "You yourself were once a police officer. Do you not understand?" Wade twitched.

"While I do agree that those who commit crimes or 'sin' should be punished, don't you think banishing someone to eternal damnation is a little extreme?? Does it ever go through your head how that would feel? Oh, I'm sorry. Your the perfect creation of God, you were born unable to do anything but sit around and do as he demands." The Angel stared him down.

"Listen Wade. I'm trying my best to do what I can, not just for you, but for everyone. And I apologize if my ways of doing that are dodgy, but that was what I was ordered to do by my superiors. And stop calling me by name unless it's absolutely necessary." She turned around. "Your motorcycle is outside. I'll inform you when you have your next mission." She walked out, aggravated. Wings sprung from her back as a yellow glow engulfed the angel, leaving nothing but a feather behind on the sidewalk. Wade closed his eyes and hung his head. Scratching the back of his skull, he too walked outside. Putting his hands in his pockets, he searched for his bike. After a few moments, he located the baby blue machine propped up against a street lamp.

"Honestly, a more conventional place to put it?" He sighed. He took a quick glance at the feather on the ground. It's silky, smooth, rounded shape left it as nothing but perfect. It was almost insultingly so. Wade stepped up and onto his bike and revved it up, driving it down the street and taking a left.

KNOCKIN' ON A NEW WORLDS DOOR
Under the bridge he stood, leaning back on one of it's support beams. The cigarette created a faint light in the long cold night. The fire in his mouth kept that region of him warm, as a soft breeze passed over. He closed his eyes and relaxed, his back slouching, until eventually he found himself sitting down. The cement ground was cold and hard, but welcoming. The water to his right slowly moved downstream, creating a rhythmic swooshing noise. Taking the cigarette out of his mouth, he crushed the small light with his hand. He sat there for a while, silently waiting.

Bzzzt!

The small device in his pocket lit up. It buzzed again, flashing once more. He stood up drowsily, slowly hobbling towards the street. Arriving at the location of his parked motorcycle, he hopped on and put the keys in. Shooting down the long and curving road, the bike let out a stream of blue light. It zipped by car and pedestrian alike, cruising and turning before he ended up on the street where he had his earlier mission. Slowing down, due to the bustling crowd, he managed to get to the dead zone. This street was the road that never ended, an infinitely long stretch of asphalt that went on, and on, and on, and on. The dead zone was the area where the city stopped. All one could see from this point on was nothing but the empty darkness, surrounded by the black grass. No strand of light dared touch it. Unfortunately enough for Wade, this road just so happened to be where his home and job resided. He took a long sigh, the moisture in his breath visible in the cold air, floating slowly away, behind him. "Seven point seventy seven miles left to go." He groaned, his hands clenching on the throttles and twisting them, the bike accelerated at unreal speeds, whizzing out of view in a mere second, a fading blue trail behind it.

---

Skrrrrt!

Wade drifted into the small parking lot in front of the brick building. Since the only people that would bother too go out this far are drunken hippies, it didn't follow the conventional outwards design of the city, instead opting for something older, yet more traditional. The construct was made out of typical red bricks, with a cement base on the bottom. It had two large, wooden doors with fancified depictions of biblical stories, symmetrically carved onto each door, stained glass windows with images of a cross stood towards the top of the doors, much too far up for anyone of normal stature to see. Lanterns hung on both sides of the door, creating a dim orange glow, something that reminded Wade heavily of his home. Wade walked up the concrete steps leading to the doors, firmly gripping the silver handles and bringing them down, pushing forward, and once more continuing his march forward.

The inside was decorated like a high class hotel, with a theme heavily reliant on reds and yellows. The carpet was intricately designed with intertwining lines and circles, almost appearing three dimensional. To both sides of the door were potted trees, willows to be exact, shrunken down to a size that let them fit perfectly inside of a laundry basket. The carpet led up to a fine wooden counter, with two doors on both sides. A familiar face was seated at it. "Took you long enough." Rochelle said, leaning forward, hand on cheek. She was dressed more casually then usual, wearing a shirt that read; "Without a doubt, you're a trout" and a pair of jeans. Her spear wasn't to be seen. Wade stepped closer to the counter.

"You buzzed right when I was starting too enjoy my time off." He groused, turning to face the doors and leaning on the counter. He shuffled his hands into his pockets. Closing his eyes, he let his head fall back. The angel lightly kicked the ground, changing the position of her office chair. She turned around to face him.

"There's no rest for the wicked, Wade." She said, lighting a cigarette and putting it in her mouth. His head turned and his eyes opened a crack.

"Thought you said you quit smoking." He remarked lightheartedly, closing his eyes again and returning his head to it's original resting point.

"That was nearly two-hundred years ago. Plus, it's not like you of all people should care, considering what I found under your bed the other night." She reached into her pant pocket and grabbed a small box and slid it towards him. Picking it up and examining it, he discovered it was his last pack of cigarettes, opened, with one missing. Amused, he glanced over at Rochelle, who was currently smiling.

"You sly bitch." He said laughing. She gave him a chuckle back.

"Careful who you're talkin' too, you old bastard." She jokingly retorted back. Wade gave out to a few laughs and pocketed the pack of cigarettes.

"You're older then me, boss." He jabbed, standing up and walking to his right. She pretended to be hurt by his words.

"How dare you call me old!" She gasped, trying her best not to smile. Wade just shook his head and threw up his hand, signaling his farewell.

"Knock when you want to tell me about my assignment." He reminded her, walking into the hallway. Rochelle scrambled up, sending her chair crashing down. She slid over the counter and opened the hallway door, knocking on Wades shoulder. He turned around and grinned. "Alright, so who is it?"

---

Wade was now seated in a blue plastic chair, bending forwards to get a better look at his target. His face reeked of boredom and he was having trouble staying awake. Rochelle stood in front of him with a PowerPoint slide and a pointing stick, which she used almost entirely to slap the screen in order to get Wade to wake up. "Alright Wade, your target is the head of one of the most wanted men in the city, known only as Lovin' France." An image of the man in question popped up on screen. He had a black and white face, separated by squares. His eyes were in the shape of diamonds and his chin was sharp. He wore a grey trench coat and a white shirt and pants. Black sneakers where on his feet. Rochelle scrolled through several images of him, some displaying him utilizing what appeared to be a cold gas. Out of the seven files attached to the presentation, only one was a video. A short one at that, and to top it all off it was security footage. "This video was taken a few weeks ago." It showed the man beating five people outside in a parking lot. It looked as if he was manipulating the gas into icy bludgeons, clobbering two of the men over the head with them. Out of the corner of the camera, a sixth man wielding a gun could be seen, but his hands and feet froze up in ice. France smashed the club over the hood of a red car like a beer bottle, setting off it's alarm, and charged at the man, impaling him. The car alarm appeared to have garnered some sort of attention, as lights could be seen as France ran away. The video ended. "This is all we got on him. Not much to go on, but then again, you've solved a few trivial matters like this." Wade was focused on the screen.

"Play the video again." He said, stroking his chin. Rochelle willingly complied.

"Feel free to watch it as much as you want." She said, walking behind him and out of the room. Wade sat there, rewinding, pausing, putting it on slow motion, for nearly an hour. This quick, thirteen second clip was the best lead they had on him. He stood up and dashed over to the computers, typing as fast as he could, trying to pull up any connections. He opened a map of the city, and soon found the parking lot in question. It was outside of a furniture store. Wade continued researching, writing down his findings in a notebook. After a few hours, at twelve o' clock, he exited the room and approached the angel.

"Got em'."

---The tires screeched to a halt by the alley. Wade parked the bike and took the keys out of ignition, throwing them into his pocket. He casually walked further into the alley, whistling to himself. Next to a bright neon sign where three men, all of a bigger build then himself. They had scars and tattoos, one even missing an eye. They all stood around a door, which lead to his destination. Eyeing him, one of the men tapped his comrades shoulders and pointed at Wade. Unresponsive, he continued his slow walk to the door. The first man got up, and then the other two followed. Cracking their knuckles, they approached Wade. The first man bumped into him, the others making a triangle behind him. "What do you want, officer?" Wade smirked, and looked at the man.

"Thank you for being so kind, but could you please refer to me as Chief Deputy Evans? It would make my little heart tingle." A little aggravated, the larger man exhaled. the others had their hands on their belts, presumably readying weapons, in case the situation went South.

"What do you want?" He said again. Wade sighed.

"I'm terribly sorry, I must have stumbled into the wrong alley." He responded sarcastically. Finally snapping, the man balled his fist on Wade's shirt collar and lifted him up.

"You're gonna tell me now, or else." He threatened, snapping his fingers. The other men pulled out a baton and a gun respectively. The larger man took out a lead pipe from a trash can next to him. Wade's expression flattened out.

"I'm here for Lovin' France, your boss. If you'd be so kind, you could tell me everything you know about him on the spot." Instantly, Wade was dropped on the ground. The man in front of him swung the pipe, Wade barely avoiding it with a crouch. He elbowed the mans inner arm, causing it to jerk upwards. Wade stood straight, and with ease, snapped it. Crying out in pain, the man to Wade's right took it upon himself to get closer with his baton. Wade side kicked him in the gut, causing him to hit the wall. The other man fired a round near Wade, hitting his coat. To this, Wade summoned a pistol, and shot at each of the mans joints. He fell on his knees. The man behind him was still not finished. The gun in Wade's hand morphed into a baton, identical to the other mans. Wade swung it behind him, hitting his foe across the face. Taking advantage of the opening, he jabbed it into the mans throat, causing him to puke blood. Wade promptly slapped him on the back of the next, knocking him out. Walking over to the man he shot, Wade kicked his head into the wall, his screaming and crying muting almost instantly. His head slowly wobbled before limping forward, and his body slouching. With two foes knocked out, Wade walked over to the big man. He turned around, with a back fist, hitting Wade flat across the cheek. Wade sucker punched him in the jaw, and trigger fingered his side. Hobbling back, Wade laid down the finishing blow with a bop in the head with is baton. Turning back to the door, he pulled out the small device, tapped a button and said. "Guards are down. It'll be over soon."

Opening the door, Wade smiled.

TO BE CONTINUED

Cast

 * Wade Evans
 * Rochelle
 * Lovin' France
 * Various fodder characters.

Trivia

 * The name of this episode is a nod to the song "Knockin' on Heavens Door" by Guns N' Roses.
 * After nearly half a year of brainstorming and planning, it's finally here! I started this project back in October I believe, so It's nice to see it finally kick off.

Teaser
A shadowy figure sat seated on a throne, decorated elegantly with velvet and gold. It turned to face something to it's side. "Watermelon," It said. "Bring me watermelon."