A Debt Owed

Drake lent against the cold alley wall and closed his eyes. He dropped the knife next to him, blood dripping from the blade. He was shivering uncontrollably, and he tried to think clearly.
What had he done? He’d never thought himself capable of murder.
But he’d been protecting himself. Did that make it right?
Not in his way of thinking. He’d been on the street for six months now, and he’d survived without doing anything illegal, and without dipping into his savings.
What to do, what to do? Darkwing rocked back and forth, feverish. When the cops found out, they’d lock him up. He couldn’t take that. Walls, fences, rules, all made him feel dead. He wouldn’t let himself die! Not again.
The idiot! Did that thug of a dog really think that Drake didn’t have a little something for safety. And he hadn’t even had anything for the dog to steal, except a little food.
Though, out here, that was enough to seal your fate.
He wasn’t going to go to prison. He’d pay his debt back some other way. He wouldn’t let himself get away with it, his conscience would not have ever allowed it.
What to do, where to hide?
He could stop it from happening. He could stop anyone else from dying. An impossible task, perhaps, but it could be driven towards. And he sure owed society now. He owed St Canard and it’s people a lot.
Atonement. Repaying for his crime.
He’d do it well. He’d use his trust fund. The one thing that his parents had ever given him, and it was going to save his life.
Drake knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself without giving back more than what he had taken.
He could wear a mask, so no one could ever say he’d been the killer. A whole costume perhaps! Drake sniggered through his misery.
A superhero, just like in the comics. Yeah, maybe he’d even get his own comic one day.
Uh, right. Last time he looked, they didn’t do comics about murderers.
He couldn’t wait till his soul was wiped clean. Do good, help others, save lives, that was the way to heaven, right?
Maybe not, but he hoped it was enough to clear his mind and his heart of the worst crime there is. The one he’d committed.
Drake stood up, and cleaned the handle of the knife with his shirt. He’d better get rid of this shirt too. It stank anyway, and the rips made it almost worth going naked.
He walked to the other end of the alley, to go out on the street. He started walking to the bank, to retrieve the money he needed.
They have no idea what I’ve done, he thought as he walked. I wont let them know what I’m going to do either.
He’d be a saving shadow in the night, like he should have been before.
Get rid of the image of himself being an angel of death.
Become the duck that slept without fear of his past at night.
Become a hero.

Story Copyright Rachel Baker ’98. Characters Copyright Disney, and used without permission.

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